#slytherin sunday

[hotcinnam0n]

For Sallow Sunday, here is some dark Seb 🔥

[bloodstainedsapphic]

Happy Slutty Sunday to my savior Benjamin Wadsworth and no one else

[oldhotcinnam0n]

For Sallow Sunday I'll give you all scruffy Sebastian getting ready for his job interview at the Ministry of Magic ✨

[asterialunarr]

another trailer for chapter 6 because I cant stop thinking about them

[bloodstainedsapphic]

…fucking hell, in the best way possible

Why Not Both.

PAIRING: Mattheo Riddle x Reader x Theodore Nott

INFO: Lucius Malfoy, fueled by disdain for your family's wealth and competitive Pureblood status, makes an unwanted advance at a public event. Fortunately, two old friends from your Hogwarts days come to your rescue, and grateful for their intervention, you seek a meaningful way to express your thanks.

TAGS: 18+, THREESOME. complete filth. slight sexual aggression/unwanted touching, violence, an ungodly amount of flirting, SMUT, fingering, hickeys, drug use, mentions of blood, throat fucking, oral(mrec), piv, degradation kink, praise kink, italian.

"Please, for the love of all things magical, conduct yourself appropriately tonight, figlia."

Hidden behind the obscurity of your tinted black sunglasses, you executed an eye roll so pronounced you half-expected your eyes to vanish into the depths of your skull. The subtle percussion of your tongue against the back of your teeth preceded the moment as you composed yourself enough to deliver a response.

"I already told you," you retorted, curtly. "I'll play nice if he does."

Your father reciprocated the eye roll, reclining back against the supple leather of the limousine seat with an irritated huff. His gaze lingered on you, a silent calculation etched across his face, contemplating what tempting offer might sway you into comportment. He knew that you were not going to make it out of this gathering alive if you let your attitude get the best of you.

"What's the price tag this time, hm?" He tutted, fingers deftly adjusting his tie while sharing an anxious glance with your mother, perched nervously beside him. "A new purse? Some shoes, perhaps? Or are we gunning for another car?"

Suppressing a smirk, you lowered your sunglasses down the bridge of your nose, casting a pointed gaze over their rim at him.

"Are you seriously resorting to bribery, padre?" The feigned disbelief laced your voice, but your mother's glare sliced through it like a knife--a silent command to hush, one you chose to disregard. Adjusting your glasses, you exhaled a theatrically exasperated sigh. "Your lack of faith in me is genuinely disheartening. I assure you nothing but the epitome of professionalism from me tonight."

"Stronzate," (bullshit) your father snapped back, his eyes smouldering with a frustration intense enough to sear through your facade, clearly fed up with your antics. "Last time you peddled that line, you ended up with Lucius Malfoy's hand around your throat during what was supposed to be an informal business dinner."

You scoffed, a smirk playing on your lips before you could restrain it. "Not my fault that lunatic can't handle the damn truth. Would you prefer I let him take advantage of you? Step on you like a fucking cockroach?"

"Listen to me," he shifted to the edge of the limousine seat, his elbows finding a perch on his knees, hands firmly clasped together. Leaning forward, his gaze locked onto yours, his serious demeanor demanding your full focus. "Just because we have money doesn't mean I will bail you out if you happen to land yourself behind bars tonight. Do not fuck with the Malfoy's, figlia, I mean it."

"You sound afraid of him," you fired back, your expression a stoic mask, unruffled. "I wonder how your esteemed associates would feel about that...one of the wealthiest Pureblood wizards...intimidated by a bleached blonde-"

"Enough," he exhaled, weariness tainting his tone as he implored, "For Merlin's sake, behave your age for once--just tell me what you want."

Pouring a measured amount of champagne, he lifted the glass to his lips, the subtle clink echoing a blend of frustration and reluctant acceptance in his gaze. You huffed, reaching into your purse and retrieving your lip gloss and flip-open mirror. As you leisurely applied it, your thoughts raced, contemplating what might rein you in.

"I want him to stop mentally undressing me in front of his wife," you declared bluntly. "It's just plain rude."

Tossing your lipgloss and mirror back into your purse, a ripple of annoyance traversed your father's features, his countenance ready to unleash a torrent of reprimands in Italian, ones you'd heard a countless number of times before. It didn't take much to get under your father's skin.

However, before the first word could escape, your mother intervened with a firm, "Cut that out, figlia--just answer the bloody question."

Her intervention carried the weight of both authority and exasperation, effectively halting the imminent linguistic storm your father was about to unleash. With another dramatic eye roll and a matching huff of irritation, you straightened out against the leather, flattening the fabric of your tight black dress out against your thighs.

"Fine," you ground out through clenched teeth. With your chin defiantly raised, your gaze flicked back and forth between your parents. "Bags. A new Fendi, a replacement for the Christian I lost, and another Prada."

Your father grumbled something discontented in Italian, the disappointment clearly etched across his features as he parted his lips to respond; his brows pinched so tight it looked painful--until your mother swiftly raised a calming hand, quelling the potential storm.

Turning her eyes to you, she wore a wry smile and declared, "Deal."

A devilish smirk played across your lips as you nodded in agreement, satisfaction colouring your calculated arrangements. Handbags were hardly a necessity, considering you already owned more than you knew what to do with--but, if your father was determined to buy your silence, to keep you from retaliating against the biggest assholes in the entire wizarding world, one of whom was intent on tearing down your family's name out of sheer jealousy--then the price wasn't going to come cheap.

As the limo glided to a stop outside the opulent venue, you composed yourself, aware that tonight meant facing a sea of influential figures. Pureblood wizards--from the Nott family to the Riddles, the Malfoys, and the Berkshires--were all gathered at this prestigious ball, amongst many others. You knew tonight carried immense importance for your family, and you harboured every intention of keeping your opinions in check, and keeping your mouth shut.

But you couldn't say the same about your legs.

Stepping gracefully from the limousine, the resonance of your red stilettos hitting the cobblestones beneath them echoed in sophistication. A subtle adjustment of your dress against your thighs preceded your purposeful stride toward the entrance. Cameras relentlessly flashed from all angles, rendering the protective shield of your sunglasses almost futile against their blinding onslaught.

Squinting, you ascended the velvet stairs, only to feel a sizable hand rest on the small of your back, accompanied by a honey-like drawl in your ear.

"Easy there, Bella...we wouldn't want that perfect ass meeting the cobbles, now would we?"

You scoffed, your smirk undeniable. Turning your head, you caught a glimpse of the charming Italian boy you hadn't seen since graduation. The desire to fling yourself into his arms simmered within, yet you reserved such greetings for the more private confines indoors.

"Gods, how I've missed that sexy voice of yours," you teased, a pleasant warmth enveloping you at the sight of him. Clad in a crisp black suit, his hair styled to perfection with light stubble grooming him nicely--he looked even better than your memory served. "Remind me to grant you a proper kiss once we're inside."

"Missed more than just the voice, I hope," he quipped, a smug grin playing on his lips. Adjusting his suit jacket with a casual flair, he leaned in, his voice a low murmur. "Inside or outside, Bella, I'm not one to decline such tempting offers."

"Believe me, I'm keenly aware," you retorted, a sly grin playing on your lips. "You never were good at resisting temptation."

"Can't resist the irresistible, principessa,"  he replied, his tone laden with a provocative confidence. "I'd take your ass right here if you asked."

"Aren't you as bold as ever," you quipped, a grin playing on your lips as you finally reached the grand double doors. Theo's hand reluctantly left your back as he positioned himself behind you, gently ushering you forward. "Perhaps you could at least buy me a drink first?"

He huffed. "Anything you want--it's yours, angioletta."

Theodore graced your ass with a subtle smack as the two of you glided into the grand ballroom, its excessive expanse pulsating with the energy of wizards and witches converging from every corner of the globe. The occasion? A celebration for the new Minister of Magic--a matter that scarcely held your interest. The real allure? A night to revel in intoxication and reconnect with the charming Slytherin boys you'd wanted to see since graduation.

And here you were, the night only just unfolding, already engaged in a provocative exchange with one of the men you'd been yearning for. His hand rested tantalizingly low on your back, skillfully guiding you through the bustling crowd.

You drew nearer to Theodore as the two of you continued weaving through the crowd, lowering your voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "My parents gave me strict orders to steer clear of the Malfoys tonight, specifically Lucius."

"Huh, can't say I'm shocked," Theo chuckled, his grin stretching across his cheeks. "After that little incident at the meeting, I'm surprised they're letting you share the same room with him."

"So you heard about that." A flush warmed your face as you peeked at him over the edge of your sunglasses. "Was I really that terrible?"

He cast you a sidelong glance, his eyes twinkling. "Let's just say, your mouth has a reputation for getting you into quite a bit of trouble."

"Maybe," you quipped, your gaze confidently drifting towards the bar across the room. "Then again, it's also been known for getting me out of a fair bit of trouble."

Theo slipped behind you as you navigated through a cluster of witches, their dazzling diamond necklaces almost blinding, even through your shades.

"Mm, I wouldn't doubt it," he husked, the audible smirk in his voice. "That mouth of yours has its own set of skills, Bella...some men just can't handle it."

"Well, lucky for me, I prefer those who can handle a little challenge," you purred, turning to shoot him a sultry glance over your shoulder. "I intend on staying far, far away from him tonight."

"As much as I want to take your word for that..." he replied with a sly grin, cocking an eyebrow. "We both know how you are."

As the two of you finally reached the bar, a dazzling array of diamond bottles adorned the shelves against the wall. The counter, a masterpiece of ornate gold foiling on a white marbled surface, beckoned with an air of opulence. Theodore leaned over it, flashing a cheeky grin at the bartender.

"Two glasses of Dom Pérignon champagne," he requested smoothly, the words gliding off his tongue like silk, "per favore e grazie."

"Dom Pérignon?" Your jaw fell open, and you drew your sunglasses down the bridge of your nose to look at him. That champagne was over three hundred dollars a fucking glass. "Are you trying to get me to fuck you, or fall in love with you?"

He choked, snorting at your bluntness. "Why not both?”

Your grin was untameable as Theo's laughter resonated through the bustling room. Collecting himself, he accepted the glasses from the bartender, presenting one to you with a deviously charming grin. His eyes sparkled with desire as they traced the curve of your lips, before falling to observe the way your red-manicured nails delicately wrapped around the crystal glass.

Shaking himself from his reverie, he met your gaze again, his smirk growing wider. "Not to burst my own bubble or anything...but if it weren't for my parents picking up the tab, we'd be toasting with sparkling cider."

A soft laugh escaped you at his cheeky admission, and you raised your glass to meet his with a playful clink. "To your parents' tab."

As you toasted, you couldn't help but savour the familiar charm that had always intrigued you about him. Despite the magnetic connection and your undeniable attraction, the boundary between friendship and something more had remained uncharted territory throughout your school years.

You had every single intention of changing that, tonight. 

As the liquid elegance glided down your throat, leaving behind a lingering warmth steeped in opulence, you held Theo's gaze as you lowered your glass, acutely aware that his eyes had yet to stray from yours. Taking a measured step closer, you tilted your head back slightly, maintaining the captivating connection as you closed the distance between your bodies.

"I believe there's still something I owe you, hm?" you purred, your voice a sultry whisper. "And perhaps...given the circumstances," you gestured to the expensive champagne in your hand, moistening your lips, "I might now owe you more."

Theo's response was a low, husky chuckle as his free hand found its place on your hip. His fingers pressed into your side with a possessive grip, while the hand clutching the glass tightened, threatening to shatter within his fingers.

Spurred on, you continued. "Unless, of course, we consider it a mere indulgence on your parents' generous tab...either way-"

"Oh no, no," he interrupted with a knowing tut, his gaze piercing through half-lidded eyes. "My parents appreciate repayment just as much as I do...consider me their collector."

"Mm," you breathed, red fingernails on your free hand trailing up his chest. "I suppose I better get to work, then, hm?"

His response was a low huff, a smouldering spark in his eyes. "Dio mi aiuti..."

A smirk played on your lips, a rush of heat colouring your face as his teasing plea to God sent a surge of desire through your thighs. Gliding your fingers higher up his chest, you seized his tie, drawing his mouth down to yours in a deliberate, unhurried kiss. With no sense of urgency, you explored his mouth, savouring the moment for all it was worth.

Until, abruptly, a curt voice sliced through the charged air, instantly extinguishing the flames that had been blazing between you and Theo. The sound made you want to vomit near instantly, the feigned niceness in its tone grating on your nerves like nails on a chalkboard. You knew there was only one fucking man a voice that sickening could ever belong to.

"Well, isn't that just adorable...young love in all its glory," he sneered, and as you and Theo reluctantly pulled away from each other, you released your grip on his tie, taking a measured step back. "...never thought you'd be able to find someone who would put up with that attitude of yours...colour me shocked. "

As your gaze met the tall, arrogant blonde man peering down at you, you bit your tongue hard enough to taste the metallic tang of blood. His eye twitched as he shamelessly scanned your body, tracing over every curve and inch of body that his evil gaze could find. You were grateful for your sunglasses now more than ever, as they perfectly concealed the intense eye roll you were directing at him.

And then, just as you were poised to respond, you caught sight of his son, Draco Malfoy, and his nephew, Mattheo Riddle, two more of your old housemates. Draco, accompanied by his wife, Astoria Greengrass, sauntered up beside his father. Each of their eyes widening in disbelief at the unexpected sight of you.

As Mattheo Riddle approached, clad in a crisp black suit and tie, his curly brown hair framing gleaming dark eyes and a strong jawline, your body ignited once more. The charm he exuded brought forth a desire you had worked extremely fucking hard to suppress during your school days, now resurfacing with an intensity that left you breathless.

"Holy shit," Mattheo breathed, moistening his lips as his dark eyes roamed over you from head to toe. He pulled you in for a hug, the smell of his cologne filling your nostrils and making your head spin without effort. Against your neck, he muttered. "Now that's a fucking sight for sore eyes."

Heat flooded your veins, spurred on by the sight of him and his compliment. You let your hand rub tender circles into his back, feeling the taut muscle tense beneath your touch.

"Flattery will get you everywhere, Riddle," you purred against his ear, your grin impossible to conceal, the warmth of his embrace intensifying the heat that flooded your veins. "I see your charm hasn't lost its touch...surprised you're not locked down yet."

"Never been more glad that I'm not," his hand slid lower, finding the small of your back, calloused palms catching on the fabric. "You're leaving very little to the imagination, wearing this..."

"Little something to fuel those late-night thoughts," you murmured, your voice a sensual drawl, heat rolling off your tongue, overflowing your veins. "Better enjoy the view while you can."

"Mm," his hand found your ass, giving it a harsh squeeze. "Don't doubt that I will."

As Mattheo finally pulled away, stepping over toward Theo and embracing him in a bro-hug, Lucius peered down at him in disgust. The atmosphere was filled with the low hum of conversation as Theo, Draco, and Astoria were deep in discussion.

Lucius was busy rambling on to Theodore's father, who had now also joined the group, seemingly oblivious to the tension simmering beneath the surface--but then abruptly shifted his attention to his nephew.

A wry huff of arrogance escaped him. "Do you possess any self-control?"

"Some, on a typical day," Mattheo replied, undisturbed, and with his gaze drifting back to you, he smirked. "Currently, almost none.”

"Right." Lucius' voice was flat, devoid of any emotion as he turned back to you. "Where are your parents? I've been needing to discuss some things with your father."

"They're around," you replied flatly, taking another sip of champagne, determined to deflect his probing. "I'm sure you'll run into them eventually; no one would ever dare ignore you, Lucius."

"A compliment from you? How peculiar." Lucius tilted his head slightly, a malicious glint in his eyes. "Similar to your father's recent behaviour...I must say he has been raising a few eyebrows lately."

"And how is that any concern of mine?" you retorted, your tone laced with partially-restrained irritation. "I don't keep tabs on my father's every move. Perhaps you should address him directly with your concerns."

"Perhaps." He smirked, his gaze lingering on you as he stepped closer--Theo, Mattheo, Astoria and Draco lost in their own conversation now. "But I believe you're easier to talk to, more...amenable."

Your eyes narrowed at his implication, but you maintained a stoic exterior. "I have no interest in entertaining conversation with you."

As he closed the distance, his gaze briefly shifted to the boys beside you, ensuring they were sufficiently distracted before refocusing on you.

"You should," he murmured, an insidious charm lacing his words. "You should want to hear what I have to say."

"Your arrogance is outstanding." Through gritted teeth, you practically snarled at him, "Get to the point."

"Your father has been dabbling in rather dubious dealings of late. It reflects poorly on me and those associated with him." Lucius leaned in closer, his voice a low murmur filled with calculated venom. "If something doesn't change, I'm going to have to take matters into my own hands."

"I try my best to stay out of my father's business," your pulse quickened, a surge of anger coursing through your veins, the air around you growing tenser with each passing second. "But, if I'm being honest, Lucius, I don't appreciate the way you're running your mouth. My parents-"

"Ah, ah," he raised a hand, silencing you. "You'd do well to remember your place, little witch." Lucius's eyes glinted with a sadistic satisfaction, and a smirk played on his lips. "Though I do suggest you start caring about your father's affairs; it might save you from the consequences of his foolish actions."

"I never asked for your advice," you hissed, the thread of restraint in your voice now frayed. "But if we're trading favours, I suggest you leave me the fuck alone before this gets ugly."

Lucius eradicated the remaining space between you, his imposing presence sending a shiver down your spine, the strong scent of whiskey enveloping you. Your gaze remained locked with his, refusing to yield, but as he leaned in, your body tensed. His lips brushed your ear, and you swallowed, fighting the discomfort.

"Women shouldn't curse, little witch, it isn't very ladylike..." he sneered, his voice dripping with vindictive amusement, the words crawling over your skin. "Perhaps your parents failed to teach you that? Amongst other things, it seems..."

You fought the urge to retch. "Get fucked, Lucius."

He huffed, his touch ghosting your hip as he muttered, "I just might."

The moment you felt his fingers graze your body, your hand rose instinctively, before you even had a chance to process it--delivering a swift slap to his cheek, making his head whip to the side, blonde locks flinging upon impact. A moment of tense silence hung in the air as you watched the anger seep into his features, witnessing his eyes darken with fury. Mimicking a move he'd pulled on you before, he seized your jaw, forcing your back against the edge of the bar.

But then, before he could utter a word, the scene unfolded like a rapid, chaotic dance. Strong hands forcefully grappled his shoulders, ripping him away from you within an instant.

"Keep your fucking hands off of her." It was Theodore's voice. Followed instantly by Mattheo's. "The fuck is wrong with you."

In the blink of an eye, Theodore was in action, hooking his arms around Lucius to restrain him, while Mattheo, fueled by raw anger, threw a powerful punch that landed square on Lucius' jaw. The room buzzed with gasps and whispers, the unexpected altercation taking center stage in the glamorous event.

Your stomach fell dramatically. There goes the handbags you'd bargained for.

As Lucius seethed with fury, he forcibly pulled himself out of Theodore's grasp, retaliating by landing a punch on his nephew. The impact split the skin over the bridge of Mattheo's nose, but undeterred, Mattheo swiftly retaliated with another punch, forcing Draco to step in and restrain him.

Sensing the escalating tension, you rushed forward, attempting to break up the skirmish. However, Draco hissed at you, his arm darting out to halt you, eyes narrowing in warning, "Just get out of here. You've done enough damage."

"Are you kidding me?" you snapped back, the clink of your glass punctuating your frustration as you discarded it on the bar. "You've always been a sickening little daddy's boy--wake the fuck up, Draco. Your father is an absolute asshole."

Before Draco could respond, the voices of your parents, entwined with Mattheo and Theodore's parents, resonated through the room, silencing and halting every single one of your collective movements. Your father unleashed a barrage of reprimands in Italian, while your mother shook her head in utter disappointment. She gripped your arm with enough force to make you groan.

Her words were no less than a snarl in your ear. "You had one fucking job tonight. One."

"I didn't do anything--he started it," your heart pounded, vision tinged with red as you spat back, uninterested in the ridicule. "He fucking touched me."

Lucius, now somewhat composed, turned to the security guards standing amidst the commotion and pointed decisively at you, Theodore, and Mattheo, his stern tone leaving no room for negotiation. "I want them removed. Immediately."

Your mother's grip on your arm loosened, her voice now softer as she said, "We'll talk about this later."

The security guards seized you, Mattheo, and Theodore by the arms, forcefully guiding you away from the group. Under the intense scrutiny of Lucius' gaze, you were pushed through the concealed back exit, leading to a row of valet cars waiting in the shadows. The door slammed shut behind you, leaving the chilly night air to greet you as the security guards swiftly retreated back into the vibrant chaos of the celebration, leaving you, Mattheo, and Theodore standing alone in the dimly lit alley.

Without missing a beat, Mattheo smoothly extracted a small container from his pocket, revealing a blunt that he quickly found a comfortable spot for between his teeth.

An irritated huff escaped you as you yanked off your sunglasses, shoving them into your purse. "What an insufferable prick."

The night air became tinged with the scent of both smoke and potent weed as Mattheo exhaled, Theodore hastily loosening his tie around his neck as Mattheo passed him the herbal offering.

"He's got his eyes set on you," Mattheo stated matter-of-factly, the words casually hanging in the air as if discussing the weather. "Not exactly discreet about it either, especially when his wife's not around."

As Theodore passed the blunt to you, you took a long, slow drag--the bitter taste of the weed lingering on your tongue as you mulled over Mattheo's words.

"He’s just looking for another thing to hang over my father's head." A sardonic smirk curled your lips, and you passed the weed back to Theo. "I'm not interested in anything he has to offer...there’s nothing he can give me that I can’t get myself.”

Theo smirked, the dim light casting shadows across his features as he took another drag of the blunt.

“I'll have to admit, it was quite the sight watching you slap Lucius bloody Malfoy..." he purred, smoke twirling around him as he paused, passing it back to Mattheo now. "Not many would dare."

“Well, he had it coming,” you chuckled, the tension of the evening dissipating slightly. “...I'm not one to back down."

"Oh, we know." Mattheo laughed, smoke escaping between his lips, wiping the blood off his chin with the back of his hand. "Your bad ass is always stirring up trouble, don't think that'll ever change."

You smirked, the corner of your lips curling with a hint of mischief. "What's life without a little trouble, hm?"

Theo chuckled, practically a scoff. “A little?"

"Please," you teasingly nipped at your bottom lip, head tilting in a seductive manner. "You know you love it."

Stepping closer to them, you sensually reached out, your fingers making deliberate contact with the fabric of their suit jackets, covering the strength of their strong arms. Moving slowly and deliberately, your touch trailed upward, both of their eyes locked onto every nuanced movement, captivated by your enticing grace.

"I believe I owe you both a special thanks for coming to my defense back there...my heroes." Your voice dipped lower, a sultry edge creeping in as you trailed your fingers upward, grazing their shoulders. "How could I ever repay you for such...courageous acts..."

"Sexy little damsel in distress…" Mattheo smirked, the blunt dangling from his lips as he leaned in, eyes dipping over your lips before falling lower, tracing your curves. "I can think of a few ways you could show your appreciation.”

Theo's grin mirrored Mattheo's as he added, "I think we'll have to discuss those options somewhere more private...back at my place, perhaps?"

"Mm," your stomach leapt with excitement, your stomach tightening in anticipation, you slowly withdrew your hands, stepping back. "Lead the way, boys."

Without needing to hear another word, Mattheo and Theo exchanged a knowing glance before they began to move toward the valeted cars, Mattheo's eyes scanning the line until they landed on a sparkling blacked-out Range Rover. Discarding the blunt with a casual flick, he turned back to you, a smirk playing on his lips.

The night air shimmered around Mattheo's dark pools as he confidently asserted, "We can take my car."

A casual wave set the valet into motion, retrieving his vehicle for him within an instant. The driver expertly guided the sleek black Range Rover to the forefront, its glossy paint reflecting the ambient lights. Mattheo opened the back door with a flourish, gracefully sliding in and making himself comfortable on the far side. A sly grin danced on his lips as he gestured for you to join him.

"After you," Theo's purr accompanied a playful smack to your ass, forcing a slight squeak from your throat, and you tsked at him before obliging.

As you settled into the lavish embrace of the Range Rover's spacious backseat, Theodore smoothly slipped in next to you, closing the door behind him. The interior exuded opulence, the cold leather meeting the warmth of your thighs. Mattheo leaned forward, parting the partition to share Theodore's address with the driver, his cologne enveloping you in an intoxicating embrace.

The air crackled with anticipation as he ended the conversation and slid the partition shut, reclining back against the seat with a provocative spread of his legs. Loosening his tie, he extracted a small bag from his pocket, revealing a white powdery substance within its confines.

"Fuck sakes," he grumbled, catching Theodore's attention. You both met his eyes. "Any chance you've got a mirror in that purse?"

"Who needs one when you've got her?" Theo huffed, snaking an arm around your waist, pulling you snug against his chest. His lips hovered over your ear, and he added, "She's got more than enough to work with, hm?"

As Theo's lips brushed your earlobe, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine, you couldn't ignore the electrifying sensation that danced across your skin. Mattheo's intense gaze fixed on you, adding to the palpable tension in the air as he waited, seemingly holding his breath for your response.

"Mm." Your voice came in a breathless, shuddering whisper, "go on then, Riddle."

Mattheo's eyes darkened with a mischievous glint as he inched closer. Unhesitatingly, he tapped a sprinkle of white powder delicately above the neckline of your dress, right on the edge of your chest. Theodore pulled you even closer against him as Mattheo leaned in, his head lowering to quickly sniff up the line of powder. A cascade of goosebumps erupted across your skin, and your back instinctively arched.

After he'd finished, lingering tingles traced along your skin, intensifying by the millions as Mattheo sensually licked up the remaining powder. His tongue danced against your skin, brushing the delicate tops of your breasts, provoking a series of deeper breaths from your lungs. Your thighs clenched involuntarily, all while Theodore chuckled softly into your ear.

Mattheo pulled up, his lips dangerously close to yours as he whispered. "You want some?"

When you shook your head, Mattheo shrugged, moving to pour more onto your chest--your heart racing as you watched him, eyes dark, jaw tensed. On instinct, you tugged your dress down a bit further, offering him better access. Arching your back into him, your breasts spilled out as you tugged the fabric a little too far, now nearly entirely revealed, nipples just barely covered by the black fabric. At the sight, Mattheo sucked in a sharp breath, jaw falling open.

"Fuck me," he murmured, his hand instinctively coming up to grope the one not covered in cocaine.

Theodore groaned against your ear, watching the entire show with just as much exasperation as Mattheo. His hold on your waist tightened, fingers digging into the fabric of your dress as through he was trying to tear it apart within his grasp.

"That's what you've been keeping from us...." Theo's voice rumbled with dark lust, the words almost tangible in the air as his lips grazed your skin. "…for all these fucking years."

The tender caress of Theo's lips on your neck elicited a soft whimper, matched by Mattheo burying his face in your chest, sniffing up the rest of the drugs, his fingers tightening their grip on your breast, kneading it with a primal urgency. Theo's initial gentle kisses on your neck evolved into hungry bites and passionate flicks of his tongue, sucking vibrant welts into your skin.

Your body wrestled with conflicting waves of sensation, not knowing which to focus on first--blood pooled beneath Theo's teeth as he broke the vessels and marked you violet, inspiring an electrifying surge between your legs, growing more desperate with each passing second. Each touch and graze intensified the sensitivity of your skin, leaving your mouth slightly agape, head tilted back, giving both men easier access.

Mattheo groaned into your chest, a primal sound echoing desire. His rough hands moved lower, finding the hem of your dress and sliding beneath it with urgency, hiking the fabric higher up along your thighs. Your legs willingly surrendered, drawn onto his lap as he pulled them there. His nails dug into your skin as he shifted his mouth higher up your neck, capturing the side opposite Theo, working his teeth along your pulse as he too began marking your skin, sucking purple possession marks to life.

A low, sensual moan escaped your parted lips, a delicious shudder rippling through your spine. As Theo pulled his lips from your skin, you turned your head toward him, drawn by an irresistible force. The moment your eyes locked, an electric charge sparked between you, and in an instant, his lips claimed yours--a blend of sweet champagne, the faint taste of cigarettes, and the lingering hint of weed creating an intoxicating mixture, dizzying your head even more than it already was.

Mattheo's grip tightened around your thigh, a deep, primal groan escaping him, reverberating against your neck. You gasped against Theo's mouth, your fingers moving to find Mattheo's big hand, squeezing him tightly, conveying a silent, unspoken urgency--inviting him to go higher.

Taking the invitation, Mattheo's fingers crawled upwards, pushing your dress further up your thighs until your thong was nearly visible. Theo's hands left your waist, curling around your stomach before moving higher, cupping your breasts and tightening his hold on them; palming and groping and squeezing as much of the supple flesh as he could.

As you whimpered into his mouth, he groaned in response, bucking his hips against you as his long fingers worked to tug them free, exposing your entire chest to the thick, heated air within the Rover.

"Fucking hell." Mattheo muttered, instantly stalling his movements, his plush lips glistening with saliva as his eyes hungrily took in everything you'd just exposed to him. "Now this is fuel for my late night thoughts..."

Lowering his face to your chest again, taking one of your nipples in his mouth without hesitation while Theo gently rolled the other one between his fingers, their collective movements causing you to whimper and squirm against them, eyes rolling back as they each panted against you; lips and hands and teeth claiming as much of your body as they could.

Mattheo's palm slipped higher, grazing your heat over the fabric of your panties, the pads of his first two fingers catching your clit through the thin layer--immediately causing your hips to buck toward his touch as he swirled his warm tongue around your nipple, sealing his lips around it, teeth giving it a gentle tug before he released it with a wet pop.

You moaned, entire body shuddering with need as Theo's teeth tugged on your bottom lip. Breaking the kiss, his mouth moved to press hot, moist kisses against your cheek before falling to your jawline and softly nipping at the ridge. You met Mattheo's gaze, his face flushed with lust, his eyes drilling into yours as he teased you, rough fingers ghosting over your slit, catching on the hem of your panties, watching every single subtle ministration of your face as he did.

"Please," you whispered, the desperation in your voice palpable. "Stop teasing me, Riddle."

"Eager little slut..." Mattheo huffed, amused, and you could feel Theo smirk against your skin, each of their grips hardening to iron. "Look at you...spoiled little rich girl--fuck...you need to be finger fucked in the back of my fucking Range, don't you?"

A guttural groan escaped you, your head falling back against Theo's shoulder. He huffed in your ear, and there was a shared satisfaction between the two of them as they reveled in the newfound ways they had you wrapped around their fingers, surrendering to them in ways you had never dreamed of before.

Mattheo exhaled, a visible effort to rein in his self-control, brushing his thumb against your clit, his free hand coming up to grip your jaw, redirecting your eyes back to his.

"You wanna make a mess all over my expensive fucking leather, huh?" His voice was torn, shredded, a snarl past his teeth. "Tell me."

Theo's hand inched lower, his teeth nipping at your earlobe, and you nodded, swallowing the knot of lust clogging your throat. "Yes-fuck-I do-please."

"Say it," he muttered, voice low, leaning closer to you as he brushed your clit again, sending a burst of electricity through your veins. "I want to hear you fucking beg for me."

Theo's hand found your thighs, slipping between them and pulling them further apart, his heavy breathing washing over your ear.

"Mattheo, fuck-please," you grumbled through a heavy breath, lungs hitching as he teased the band of your thong, slipping under and trailing down to your mound, pausing there. "Please stop being insufferable."

"Oh, Bella...wrong fucking answer..." Theo chuckled, nails biting into your thigh. "Try again."

You groaned, attempting to inch your pelvis forward, attempting to coax his hand further, but Mattheo was unyielding, instead choosing to shift his hold on your face, forcing your jaw apart with your thumb.

"Did you forget that we saved your pretty little ass back there, hm?" His thumb pressed on your tongue, eliciting a gag, his dark eyes taunting you, revelling in your vulnerability. "Drop the fucking attitude or I'll do it for you."

You nodded against his hand, tongue fighting him to no result. His fingers jabbed into your skin, craning your head back, forcing the back of your skull to rest against Theo's shoulder. He relieved your mouth of his thumb, quickly shifting his hand to your neck.

"Tell me you need it." He commanded, tightening his grip, partially obscuring your airway. "Tell me how bad you fucking want it."

"Please," you gasped, spit leaking from the side of your mouth. "I need it so bad, I need you to make me fucking cum-fuck-please..."

"Look at that...much better bambina..." Theo murmured against your ear, his warm breath inspiring a rush of heat to your cunt. "Who knew the spoiled little rich girl could beg."

You rolled your eyes, and Mattheo caught it, returning his thumb to your mouth while simultaneously rewarding your obedience. The pad of his finger drew slow circles around your clit, warmth flooding your body, your lids fluttering in relief. Your hands shifted, one clutching Theo's thigh and the other wrapping around Mattheo's shoulder, thrusting into his hair as Theo pulled your thighs further apart.

"Mm, you're already fucking dripping..." Mattheo growled, rubbing faster in response, sending shocks of pleasure through you, your hips bucking. "Filthy little bitch."

His words, accompanied by his movements, made you groan--and Mattheo huffed, craning your head back further. You were looking into the ceiling--not that it mattered. A haze of pleasure was clouding your vision, drool spilling from your mouth as he massaged your tongue with his thumb.

You felt Theo's fingers creep lower, tugging at the fabric of your panties before slipping under, slicking two of his slender digits in your wetness, teasing over your throbbing entrance. You mewled against Mattheo's thumb, causing him to retract it; and he shushed you with his mouth, capturing you in a slow, breathless kiss, long lashes fluttering shut as he increased the pace on your clit.

Theo's chest was rising and falling against your back as he slowly thrust two fingers into your wet cunt, provoking a restrained squeal as your entire body jerked in response, your cunt clamping hard around him. He growled against your ear, curling his fingers inside of you, scissoring you open as he began to pump them in and out.

"My fucking God, principessa..." Theo husked in your ear, his voice torn. "Such a tight little cunt...so fucking wet..."

As Mattheo pulled back, lips falling to attack your jawline, you were working hard to stifle your moans, spreading your legs wider, hips bucking toward their touch. Their movements were frantic and unyielding, as though they were trying to drive you toward orgasm as quickly as possible, your eyes rolling back and your chest reaching for oxygen it failed to find.

"You want to cum, don't you?" Mattheo muttered, his own voice cracking. You bobbed your head frantically, chewing on your lip hard enough to make it bleed. "Let's hear you say it, pretty little whore..."

"Please," you whispered, your voice shredded, trying your best to keep your voice down as Theo increased his pace, the slick sounds of his fingers pumping in and out of you filling the heated silence within the Range. "Please-please-please-"

"Please, what?" Theo husked, his voice breathless, driving his fingers deeper into your cunt.

"Let me cum," you pleaded, eyes squeezing shut, unable to stop the tightness coiling in your core, unable to slow your impending release. "Please, please let me cum."

"Mm," their response was a collective groan, Mattheo's lips trailing back up to find yours as he murmured against your lips. "Cum for us."

Theo grunted, working a third finger into your cunt, rolling his wrist, and Mattheo increased his pace, the two of them collectively dragging you over the edge--and without being able to control it, you wailed, hips bucking and walls pulsing as you came around their fingers, your ears ringing and your heart pounding as the results of their overwhelming, cumulative movements wracked through you, drowning you in a sea of pleasure.

"There we go..." Theo cooed against your pulse, the deep husk of his voice rolling through your body like thunder, your orgasm wracking every nerve, every cell. "I feel that little cunt squeezing me...fuck-I need to get inside you..."

"Oh Gods...oh fuck-" you whimpered, gasping and trying to catch your breath against Mattheo's mouth as the two of them continued to run their fingers along your slit, switching places as Theo brushed his first two fingers over your clit, and Mattheo thrust two of his own into your still sensitive cunt.

Your nails dug into Theo's thigh, the other gripping Mattheo's curls with force. "Fuck-oh...I can't--Theo-Matt...Gods-"

You broke open, moans flowing from your lips like water, unable to keep yourself quiet, unable to take the onslaught of pleasure that was encompassing you. Still sensitive, you were squirming, whining, whimpering into Mattheo's mouth, and they both shushed you, cooing softly as they increased the pace on your cunt.

Mattheo's free hand kneaded your tit, muttering against your lips. "Come on, little slut...you can take it..."

"We know how much you like to be spoiled, principessa..." Theo husked, lips pressed to your ear. "Don't pretend to be shy now...

You whimpered, squirming as you fought through your overstimulation, and this only seem to spur them on as Mattheo grunted before moving back to the side of your neck, hungry to consume any inch of your skin his eyes could catch.

With another groan, he latched on to you and sucked broken capillaries to existence, littering you with his possession. His hips rocked into the side of your thigh, the bulge between his legs becoming more insatiable with every passing second, electrifying the already unfathomable sensations sweltering inside you.

The atmosphere in the car was quickly changing, the two of them becoming far more aggressive, far less patient. You were flying, heart hammering in your chest, every single inch of your skin buzzing and shaking with pleasure. You knew it wouldn't be long before you broke again, your body screaming and begging for more.

"Such a pretty cunt..." Mattheo purred, curling his fingers inside you, jabbing you deep, rocking his wrist in ruthless rhythm. "You like that, little slut? You like letting us make you cum like this?"

"Yes-fuck-" the response was immediate, involuntary. "I love it-I fucking love it..."

"We wanted to do this years ago, bambina..." Theo purred, his voice like a soothing melody in your ear. "All those years in Slytherin...seeing that fat ass in the common room every fucking day..."

"Complete fucking torture." Mattheo added with a groan, the strain in his voice palpable. "I'm going to fuck the life out of this tight little cunt...fucking cum for me, slut."

You whined, your thighs quaking with the onset bursts of ecstasy, Theo moving his fingers over your clit in short, rough strokes--wetness seeping from between your legs and moistening the leather beneath them.

And as much as you tried to keep it together; to not crumble so fucking quickly, the two of them were too skilled, knowing your signs too well, and began to increase their paces, thrusting you deep under the surface of bliss once more--eyes lolling back as your body shivered in wake of your second orgasm.

"That's right." Theo purred, praise lining his lips. "Good girl... così buono.”

Gasping, you swallowed, noting the drool that had began trailing down your chin, and once you were squirming in sensitivity, they both pulled off--conveniently synchronized with the moment the vehicle's movements slowed, before finally coming to an abrupt stop. A discreet knock on the partition signaled your arrival at the destination.

As you readjusted your dress in an attempt to regain some form of decency, Theo popped open the door, gripping your hand and practically dragging you out of the car. Mattheo's palm lingered on your lower back, holding you steady and guiding you until you stood upright, each of them waiting until you'd regained some form of composure before moving. The two of them led you towards the villa, with Theo's firm grip wrapped around your wrist and Mattheo's hand planted securely on your lower back, your heels clacking off the stones with each step.

They ushered you into the opulent house, a stunning display of luxury that stole your breath. Mattheo swiftly took your purse, carelessly placing it on a polished bench by the entrance, shedding his jacket as he disappeared down a hall. Guided by Theo, you marveled at the plush furnishings and elegant decor as he led you toward the kitchen, his grip on your wrist tight enough to bruise.

The second you entered, the atmosphere shifted, the air becoming charged with anticipation as Theo's lips crashed onto yours once again, hungry and urgent and unyielding. He shoved your back against the marble counter, his hands gripping bunches of your dress and tugging it up your thighs, stomach, chest, before urging you to raise your hands--tugging it off and tossing it to the floor beside you.

His eyes widened, tongue darting out to wet his lips as he took in your exposed figure, inch by inch. "Oh mio Dio..."

A mischievous smirk played on your lips as you took hold of his tie, pulling him closer. Your lips collided passionately, and with a sense of urgency, your fingers worked swiftly to strip off his suit jacket and move toward his belt. The desire for release consumed you; you needed him now.

"Fuck, you're so hard..." you murmured against his lips as you'd undid the clasp and grazed your fingers over his throbbing length, wasting no time before tugging his pants down, revealing his black briefs. "Does this make us even?"

"Not quite, but it's a good start," he groaned, his words a breath past his teeth. "You one time inside that little pussy can settle a fucking three-hundred dollar debt?"

You huffed, biting back your smirk. "Only one way to find out."

In a swift, intense motion, Theo seized your hips, spinning you around and forcefully pushing you against the cool kitchen counter. Your breath hitched as he pressed his body against yours, hard cock grinding against your ass as his hands deftly hooked around the band of your panties, smoothly sliding them down your trembling thighs.

As soon as the fabric hit the floor, he groaned, knocking your legs further apart with his knee. His rough palm caressed the curve of your ass, before following it with a sharp spank, making you yelp, jolting forward as pleasured pain rang out over your skin.

Instinctively, you clenched, and from the border of your vision you noticed movement--Mattheo joining back in from where ever the fuck he'd ran off to, his tie removed and the first of his buttons undone.

Bringing himself to the side of the counter opposite you, his eyes traced your form, bent over, breasts pressed against the cool marble, Theodore looming behind you as he began to tug down his boxers, his thick length springing free in relief; tip glistening. The part of the counter you were bent over was not very wide, giving Mattheo the perfect position to loom in front of you, entangling his hands in your hair as he leant down, softly pressing his lips to yours.

"You want this, puttana?" Theodore cooed, teasing your cunt with false thrusts as he slicked himself along your slit, palm caressing the burning flesh of your ass. Before you could even think to respond, he spanked you once more, your flesh quaking from his power as you whimpered into Mattheo's mouth. "You want to take this cock like a good little slut?"

Mattheo pulled back, allowing you the ability to speak--his dark eyes boring into yours as he murmured. "Answer him."

You swallowed, yelping as Theo whacked you again. "Yes! I want to..."

"What to, what?" Mattheo purred, the sadistic nature of his voice drawing heat from your veins. One free hand shifting to palm his crotch.

“I want to take your cock..." you groaned, and Mattheo cocked an eyebrow, a silent gesture telling you to finish the sentence. "...like a good little slut."

"There we go..." Mattheo murmured, leaning in to kiss you again. "Such a good girl."

"Mm-so fucking wet," Theo groaned, teasing you with the head of his cock. "Shit..."

With his hand on your hip, he plunged into your warm, wet cunt, choking on his breath as you whined and pulsed around him, enveloping him to the base. Fuck--he was big--his thick girth stretching you open, the sweet sting causing you to moan helplessly into Mattheo's mouth.

"Fuck..." Theo cursed under his breath, hissing your name as you clenched around his length, head slamming into your cervix with the very first thrust. “Porca puttana…you're so tight..."

Mattheo pulled back, straightening out and smirking down at you as he fumbled with his belt, undoing the latch before pulling out his throbbing length, your stomach instantly doing a cartwheel at the sight of it. He was just as big as Theo, and equally as fucking needy--cock pulsing as he wrapped his fist around it, pumping himself a few times as he eyed your body--took in the sight of his best friend fucking you against his kitchen counter.

And then, Mattheo's hand resumed its place in your hair, yanking your head back as he directed your eyes to meet his. He leaned in slightly, dark gaze burning wounds into your skin. "Open that filthy mouth...stick out your tongue."

Moans were flying from your lips as Theo quickened his pace, pulling out and slamming back in, pinching your hips between his fingers, cursing under his breath in Italian. Through the haze of pleasure, you obeyed Mattheo's command, jaw dropping open before sticking out your tongue.

Mattheo leaned in, closer, and spat into your mouth. "You want to suck this cock?”

Your eyes rolled back, quickly losing yourself in the hurricane of pleasure Theo was providing you with, a deep growl leaving Mattheo's throat as he tightened his grip on your hair.

“Yes, please-“ you whimpered, scalp stinging. “Please let me suck your cock.”

With an approving groan, Mattheo moved closer, guiding his twitching length past your lips, using the hold on your hair to crank your head back, the angle allowing him a long, deep stroke into your mouth, and you groaned, gagging around him.

"Shh," Mattheo purred, head falling back, lids fluttering. "Relax your throat for me."

You choked, drooling and panting as he overwhelmed your throat--but he was so far gone, so encased in fogging fizzles of lust that he didn't even put anymore thought toward your struggles, his groans growing louder with every thrust.

"Fuck..." he breathed, tightening his fist in your hair, tugging the strands with force. "That's it," pushing further, he released a moan when your neck bulged, swelling with the invasion of his cock. "Choke on it, whore."

He snapped his hips, pushing deeper, and you gurgled against his dick, but it only caused him to increase his pace, adjusting your head back as he started fucking into your throat. Every thrust brought a noise from your mouth, and every noise he ignored, fingers scraping your skin as bliss overwhelmed his senses.

Your body was throbbing, desperately fighting off its third orgasm, tears stinging your eyes as Theo fucked you deep, stretching you wide, your wails being suffocated by Mattheo's thick cock, your body physically convulsing in overwhelming, toe-curling pleasure.

"She likes this," Theo breathed, his hand snaking under your hip, fingers connecting with your clit, and you wailed against Mattheo's cock, eyes rolling back in your skull as you drowned in pleasure. "…she likes being used like a piccola troia del cazzo.” (little fucking slut)

"Mhm," Mattheo breathed, voice hoarse with pleasure. "Yeah she fucking does."

Delight resonated at their words--you were so drunk on the euphoria of being fucked that you could only moan helplessly in agreement. You were close, your orgasm a quickly rising tide, ready to crash over you at any given moment. Your body was trembling, near convulsing, cunt clamping down around Theo, pushing him dangerously close to his own peak.

"Fuck-" Mattheo choked, lungs sputtering--Theo's fingers swirling your clit harsher, quicker. They were both close, you could tell. "Fucking pretty little mouth feels so good wrapped around me..."

As your eyes fluttered, dangerously close to reaching your own peak, both men stalled, pulling out abruptly. You almost wailed in protest, almost chewed them each out for abandoning you so fucking close to orgasm like that, until they moved, switching places as though it was a silent understanding, as though they communicated without you hearing it.

Theodore stepped around to your side of the counter, quickly fisting your hair and forcing your mouth to his cock. You whimpered, tasting your own juices on his thick length, but before you could even generate a thought in your head, Mattheo sank into your wet heat, sucking in air through his teeth as it swallowed his heavy, hard length.

"Fucking hell..." he groaned, hands sliding up your sides and finding your tits, cupping them as he began pummelling your cunt. "Fuck-this pussy was worth the wait...so fucking worth the wait..."

You howled in ecstasy, moaning and gagging simultaneously as Theodore fucked your throat with no mercy, thrusting in and out with an animalistic pace. Mattheo slid a hand down your stomach, trailing over the mound of your pussy, connecting with your clit and rubbing vigorous circles against it. The reaction was immediate--your whole body jolting and withering under each of their massive frames, your lungs gasping and panting for air.

"Fuck-you're squeezing me so hard-I'm gonna cum in this tight cunt..." Mattheo breathed, free hand giving your swollen ass cheek another harsh smack. "Fucking slut-shit..."

You whinged, your climax fast approaching, and Theo jerked your head further back, meeting your glossy eyes. "You want to cum, huh?" He muttered, fucking deep into your throat. "You want to fucking cum for us?"

You nodded, or tried to anyways, and Theo grinned, gracing your cheek with a playful smack. "Go on then."

Body obedient out of habit, you snapped, pleasure storming through your raw, shredded nerves, stripping them of any control they had left, legs twitching and lids squeezing shut while you screamed onto his dick. He cursed in satisfaction, his hands squeezing fistfuls of your hair while he held off his own peak, fucking into you until you began to struggle for breath, your lips and jaw going numb.

"Fuck me,” Mattheos voice was shredded, physically in pain, free hand whacking your ass. "She likes cumming on my fucking cock…sexy little bitch-fuck-“

Theo groaned, the sound doing unspeakable things to your body as Mattheo pulled his fingers off your clit and returned to clutch your hip. You knew they both were close, their movements turning erratic--Theo's chest sputtering with each breath until as you felt his hot cum shoot down the back of your throat, you mewled--swallowing every last drop.

You must have blacked out, you must have disconnected from your own body for a moment, because when you came to--all you knew was you could feel Mattheo's climax rupturing through him--you felt the violent fucking into your cervix, the hitching, stuttering of his hips, felt him silence himself against your back while he poured jets of cum into your cunt, felt him throbbing at the hilt as he stopped, wiping the sweat from his brow as he pulled out, tucking himself away.

The room was silent, and for a few moments you were paralyzed, focused on trying to bring breath back into your lungs, focused on trying to return your heart rate to a normal pace. At this point, you weren't sure what was intoxicating you anymore--wether it was the alcohol or the buzzing, overwhelming lust that was slowly fizzling off your skin--but you knew that you were spent, your body nothing more than a limp, exhausted, sweaty mass of flesh.

Mattheo gripped your arms, tugging you off the counter. Theo passed him his white dress shirt, and Mattheo aided you in slipping your arms inside before wrapping his arm around your waist--walking you over toward the couch, plopping down and lying back along its length. Theodore joined in, moving to your other side, the both of them nuzzling up against your exhausted body as the three of you worked to come down from your highs, worked to return your pulses back to a normal pace.

After a moment, once your head had stopped spinning, you flicked your gaze over the both of them, smirk teasing your lips. “Round two?”

[nezuscribe]

𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬

pairing: gojo satoru x fem!reader

part two of after all this time

summary: you try to make sense of everything after that night with gojo satoru, the slytherin prince, but as much as you try to run away from it, it seems to follow you more. but he has to hate you for it, right? that could be the only explanation for why he seeks you out...right?

warnings: 18+ mdni all characters are 18, gojo slight angst, messy makeout, gojo eating pussy like his life depended on it, fingering, unprotected sex, penetrative sex

word count: 12k

note: yay! part two is done! please comment and reblog, it's really appreciated. thank you @jadeisthirsting for beta reading! <3

slytherin!gojo masterlist + jjk masterlist

If there was one thing you grew to understand about Hogwarts, it was that the castle was entirely unpredictable. 

From the moving staircases, the random ghosts that would appear out of nowhere, to the disappearing portraits that sometimes only reappeared to listen in on student gossip, you knew you had to expect the unexpected when it came to ancient school. 

But never in your wildest imagination would you have thought that you would’ve kissed Gojo Satoru. 

You couldn’t even pretend that it didn’t happen, despite the fact you wanted so desperately to obliviate your mind and move along with your life. 

You could still feel his lips on yours, even days after it happened. You could feel his hands on your body, the way he held you to him, the way he kissed down your neck. You could still hear the way he said your name, breathless, almost desperate. 

“Fuck,” he had whispered, heavy on your lips as he dipped down again to kiss down your chin tilting your head up to expose the column of your neck, “Fuck,” he said once more, diving down as he sucks and bites at your skin, his movements growing faster and more erratic once he hears the soft and sweet mewls that escape your swollen lips. 

You tried to blink it away.

“Satoru,” he had said against your skin, “Not Gojo. Not you.” 

Not you. 

That Saturday and Sunday you refused to move from your bed, huddled under blankets as the other girls in your dorm came and went. You could hear the loud party they held after yet another win at the quidditch game, so you just cast a silencio charm around your room, feeling your mattress create a permanent dent in the fetal position you were lying in. 

One of the kinder girls of your dormitory, Celeste, crouched down to where your head peeked out from your swarm of blankets, her brown brows furrowed together with worry, but you promised her it was just a stomach flu, nothing to worry about, and told her to go enjoy the party. 

That next Monday morning you made sure to go to the transfiguration classroom, glad to find that skipping breakfast helped to see that nobody except for Professor McGonagall seemed to be in the room, of course, aside from that little snowy owl perched atop her desk, its wide eyes blinking slowly at you as you walked in.

You remember how Professor McGonagall looked up briefly, annoyed that a student was here before classes even started, but she did a double take when she noticed it was you, welcoming you by saying your last name with a little bit of surprise. 

“How may I help you?” Her eyes looked at you over her glasses, her hands lay flat on her desk, next to the quill she was just using. 

“Professor, I have a request to ask of you.” 

A part of you was glad that you were such a good student, one who never asked for much and gave everything you had towards the work you did, especially for her class. McGonagall’s thin bow raised slightly, her lips pursing together as you motioned for you to continue. You swallowed thickly, pulling out the thick pieces of parchment tied together, your contribution to her essay, as you laid it down on her table. 

“I would like to change my partners…if possible,” your voice was shaking, “I have my work all done here,” quickly going to show her the work that you had done, but her hand outstretched, her slender finger grasping yours as you halted your movements. 

When you looked at her face, the only emotion you could trace, which was one you had never seen on the older woman, was genuine concern.

“Has Satoru done…something” She tried to find the right words, but you insistently shook your head, trying to act as if nothing was wrong aside from you.

“No, no,” you sputter out, “It’s me. He’s done nothing wrong. I just,” you sigh, trying to calm down your heart, noting that the large clock outside had struck three times and that her first-year students would be filing in any minutes, “Please, I’d do the rest of the essay alone if necessary.” You know that you were pleading with her at this point, but you couldn’t care. 

McGonagall looked you over once, noting the bags under your eyes, the way you actively looked like you hadn’t slept in days, and thought for a long second before she nodded, waving you along as other students started to come in. 

“I’ll take care of it,” she said, a promise, and you thanked her extensively, bidding her goodbye as you ran across school to make sure you didn’t miss Lupin’s riveting defense against the dark arts lesson about warding off vampires. 

And she stuck to her word. 

That day you sat in your usual seat, in the back, but instead of Gojo sitting next to you was a disgruntled Charlie Reeve, his arms crossed like a petulant child, depressed to be split up with his friend despite not having any work done. 

You saw his flash of white hair, stopping in confusion when he saw the Gryffindor in his seat, your eyes locking briefly as his nose flared. 

“Oh, Mister Gojo, I had to rearrange some partners,” Professor McGonagall called out, motioning him to come sit up front with Benny Thompson, “Some people thought it’d be better to leave this essay until it was absolutely necessary.” She cast the two Gryffindor boys a knowing look, not necessarily a lie, and deep inside you felt grateful that she was able to find something believable. 

And so, with all of your tedious efforts to make sure that you never bumped into Gojo Satoru, you went weeks without really seeing him. 

Of course, it was difficult, increasingly so as it seemed that he was everywhere you went. When you went to the library, he was there, at your usual table, either reading or working on homework, which meant that you had to weasel your way into the astronomy tower to do your work.

And then he began to go to the astronomy tower, you’d see him looking over the ledge, his hair flickering in the wind, his back thankfully to the stairs as you quietly made your way down, running away to find somewhere else. 

Sometimes when you were lying in bed, trying to go to sleep, unwillingly, your mind traveled back to that night. And it seemed like all your hard work was in vain because despite trying to act as if he didn’t exist, he was something that you could never forget. 

Gojo acted indifferent, however, which both helped and stung a bit. Helped because you were glad he went back to forgetting that you existed, and though you wanted him to act as if he maybe had feelings for you, you knew he never would, and so you blended back into the background

But despite it all, you found that somehow October bled into the unforgiving winds of November, which slowly turned into the winter of December. 

Your classes were wrapping up, and teachers no longer cared much seeing that they too were looking forward to the long-awaited and deserved break.

You found that with the workload that was slowly dying down (for you at least, seeing how you had finished up most of your exams, and all the essays and projects the professors had assigned to you months in advance were done, unlike some people who believed in the power of magic enough to leave it to the last week), you visited Hogsmeade more. It offered you some solace to take your mind off of everything. 

The snow was beginning to set both on the ground and on top of all the roofs and signs, making the small village look like a wonderland you’d see inside a snow globe. A part of you couldn’t stop the happy smile that made it on your face as you walked through the cobblestone streets, looking inside every shop as if you had the money to spend. 

On one of the Saturdays, you were able to give yourself a rest from the work you had to finish before the break started. You bundled up, a silver and green scarf wrapped around your neck, your old mittens (passed down from your mother, of course), and your thickest knitted sweater, went out for Hogsmade. 

Hogsmeade is usually busy during December, which you like, pretending that you were somewhere far away, perhaps a little village in France, as you gently make your way around the eager students ready to buy things for their families for the holidays. 

After a couple of years of visiting this place, you’ve picked up some key knowledge. Never go to Honeydukes before seven, otherwise, it’s entirely ransacked and they sometimes stock up on Saturdays at half past seven. Zonko’s is only good once in a while, otherwise, it’s too overwhelming, and Gladrags Wizardwear had something marked off if they went unnoticed for too long. 

And, perhaps the best part of your visits to Hogsmeade, you had a pass from McGonagall, which let you stay an extra two hours. While most students made their way back before their ten o’clock curfew at night, you were able to get special permission from Professor McGonagall and Professor Snape to stay till midnight. 

You told them that you didn’t do anything crazy and that the only reason why you longed to stay out late was really only for Saturdays because the three broomsticks sometimes brought in the wizarding jazz society, a group of witches and wizards who played live on their respective instruments. It was your favorite part of Hogsmeade, and after some negotiation, you were allowed out after ten. 

But before then, you spent your time in the other shops, browsing for nothing in particular. 

You found yourself admiring some of the intricately made quills outside a window that was on display. Surely expensive, but you simply looked at them, your face almost pressing up against the chilly glass to get a closer look. 

There was a group of friends a couple of feet away from you, and you could hear the giggling now and then about something, but you didn’t think it’d be best if you looked over to see what was going on, mind your own business. 

You walked along, moving to the next shop window when you noticed that the giggling almost seemed to be following you.   

You felt yourself peeking over briefly, somehow not being shocked that it was some of the seventh-year Slytherins, the kids you had grown up with, looking over at you, the girls pointing to something near you as they laughed behind their hands. 

Tough skin, you reminded yourself, trying to ignore it as you tried to look at the new cauldrons. At least, you would’ve distracted yourself had you not heard a loud, almost animated rip. 

You look down, but not quickly enough to see your bag tear open, some of your knuts fell out, along with your chapstick, your tissues, and some other miscellaneous things. 

It didn’t take a genius to glance over at the girls, to see one of them with their wands out as one of the other girls cackles, and while you were used to their antics, it didn’t hurt any less.

You bent down, going on your knees, trying to find some of the things that had disappeared in the snow. One of the girls, Avery McKenna, who talked loud seemed to talk even louder, as if wanting to get your attention. 

“Satoru! Satoru, look!” She spoke in a whisper which was louder than your normal speaking voice, and you looked from your lashes at the mention of his name. 

And you saw him as one of the other girls shuffled around, tugging at his coat sleeves to direct his attention away from whatever shop window he was looking into as she pointed a finger at you on the ground. You quickly looked back down before you made eye contact with him, your fingers growing cold from the bite of the snow. 

You didn’t want to know what he looked like, what sort of smile would take over his face at the sight of you looking like this. You pick up your bag, putting it under your arms so that it won’t grow wet from the snow, inspecting the gash with a heavy heart, realizing that there’s no way to mend it. It looks like a wolf had slashed its claws through the fabric, something that no needle and thread, or even a reparo charm could fix.

You shove the coins in your pockets, holding the rest in your gloved hands as you stand up, cheeks heating up in embarrassment as you feel their stares on you, the snow seeping in through your pants, causing you to shiver as you try to find a place you could into to get this sorted. 

Thankfully, The Three Broomsticks was just up ahead, and so you tried to mute out all the people behind you as you turned your back, walking up the street as you heard the snow crunch under your shoes, sniffing from the cold as you walked into the familiar pub. 

—-

The Three Broomsticks was a Hogsmeade staple. 

Inside the pub was a roomy place, a fire always lit in the corner, the flames crackling almost all the shouts and yells and drunk laughter. Up on the stone walls were photographs of famous witches and wizards who had visited the pub, paintings of people long past that used to frequent it, and family members of those who owned it. It smelled of ale and peppermint, the atmosphere warm and welcoming, something that you always enjoyed. 

It was usually full, so you count yourself lucky to find a little empty booth near the back. 

You got some water seeing how the last knut you needed to buy a butterbeer got lost somewhere in all the snow, and laid out all of your things on the table, including your mauled-up bag. 

You wipe at your eyes, careful that nobody sees the stray tears, and allow yourself to sit against the wooden booth, shutting your eyes for a second. 

You count to ten, allow yourself to calm your breathing down, and crack your neck, moving it around to your left and right side. The sun was nearly starting to set and it was already five, so it was going to be a bit before their usual jazz band came. Although you’d been looking forward to it since last week, at this point you just wanted to go back, have some soup, and then sleep. 

When you open your eyes you find yourself staring at the ceiling, breathing deeply through your nose as you look back down, a surprised gasp escaping your lips to find somebody sitting in front of you.  

“I-” Gojo starts but you’ve already started collecting all of your things off the table, your heartbeat skyrocketing as you shove whatever you can in your pockets, sitting up as you try to leave.  

But he’s fast, sitting up from his seat, blocking you with his tall body as you feel your heart in your throat, pounding away rapidly as you try to look away from him. 

He’s here, he’s here, he’s here. 

His hand is holding your elbow, he’s holding you, and he seems desperate, his eyes searching yours, begging you to just listen to him. 

Why is he here? Why is he holding you?

“Can we talk?” His white brows are furrowed, his lips parted as his thumb rubs up and down on your skin, “Please?” 

What does he want? 

You’re looking at him, really looking at him for the first time in months, and despite not seeing him face to face for a while, you can still notice the little changes. There are bags under his eyes, he seems worn down. His eyes, the ones that you often dreamed about, were swirling with unspoken emotions. His lips looked like they were chewed raw, much like yours. 

But he still looks like he did that one night in October, the way he spoke your name as if it were the only thing he could say, his hair tousled by the December winds, and his cheeks flushed a rosy pink. 

“I n-need to…” you swallow thickly, your mouth running dry as your eyes dart around to not look at him, “I need to go.” 

But you don’t, and he knows that you don’t.

“Your water…miss,” the waitress suddenly comes around with your mug full to the brim with water, looking curiously at you and Gojo as she sets it down on the table, giving you a small smile as she walks away. 

“Please,” he says one more time, and his voice is heavy, piercing through your chest and into your mind, working like a devil’s snare as it wraps itself around you until you are entrapped by everything that is him. 

You look at the door of the pub, noting that none of his friends are either there or outside, and you look at him once more.

You lick at your gnawed lips, letting out a defeated sigh as you give him a single nod, watching as his face breaks into a smile, his shoulders sagging from the release of tension as he helps you back into your seat and climbs into his own, across from you, and you set all your stuff back on the table. 

His eyes follow your movements, look at your bag and the contents that used to be in it and he whips out his wand, going to cast a spell before you cut him off. 

“Reparo didn’t work,” you mutter, fidgeting with your fingers as you awkwardly sink into your seat, watching him intently as if he had been a painting you’d been studying that suddenly came to life. 

His eyes flicker to yours and he puts his wand away sheepishly. 

“I didn’t know that they were going to do that,” he finally says, breaking the silence. 

You nod curtly, looking at your hands resting in your lap as you try to think of what to say. Of which emotion you should call upon to do the talking for you, which thing you had been itching to say to him ever since that night. 

“It’s nothing they haven’t before,” you finally say, looking up at him with a sad smile, watching as his chest rattles with an inhale. His fingers are interlocked with each other as they rest on the table, his green sweater resting snuggly on his muscular frame as he leans in, as if he were scared you were going to disappear. 

He goes to open his mouth to speak, but you cut him off again. 

“Why do you care?” 

His mouth shuts, his blue eyes shimmering brightly in the light of the fireplace. He doesn’t seem angry or annoyed, just shocked. 

“What?” 

You breathe roughly out your nose, looking away briefly as you click your tongue against your teeth, your fingers gliding across the mug, the little water droplets that slid onto the table creating a ring around the cup. You twist and turn it around by the handle, deep in thought. 

“Why do you care so much? Why do you care about what happens to me?” You press, your head tilting to the side. You try to look fierce, trying to channel the anger, the pain, the hurt that you’ve been feeling not only since October but since you first stepped foot through that castle. 

His lips parted as if he were going to say something, but his head dipped, his fingers playing with that gold ring on his finger, the one of his family crest. 

“I…” Gojo can’t seem to finish, can’t seem to find the words. But that’s fine because you’re finding them for him. 

“I’ll find a new purse and I’ll move along with my day because I’m used to this Gojo,” your voice is slowly growing, “I’m used to your friends, to you and your pureblood hierarchy. So stop acting like you’re this hero that should get rewarded with whatever it is you want from me by talking to me o-or pitying me,” you ramble, your voice dripping with venom, your eyes stinging as you try to control yourself, “Just please stop acting like you care.” 

He doesn’t say anything, his lips pressed together tightly, his jaw ticking. His eyes reflect a storming sea right now, one a sailor would never return from.

“That night, when you kissed me,” your voice was loud enough to be a whisper, but he hears you, his breathing hitching as he most likely thinks back to that night, “Were you able to cross off another check mark on your list? Did you finally fulfill all the crazy things you wanted to accomplish?” 

“Stop,” he seethes out through clenched teeth, his eyes daring you to continue. 

You’re glad that the pub is so busy and so loud to cover the two of you. 

“Did I taste different than the pureblood girls? Than Alicent? Than Eliana?” You pushing him, pushing at his buttons because this has to be it, this has to be when he finally tells you that you were some bet that he made with his friends, that kissing you was worth some extra galleons to fill his pockets as he came back gallivanting to the other Slytherin purebloods. 

His eye twitches, his breathing heavy as he murmurs another stop but you just shake your head, hoping that he doesn’t see the gloss covering your eyes, the way your lips are trembling thinking of all the possibilities. 

“You’re mean, Gojo,” the words fall from your lips, heavy, pointed straight at him, and you can feel a tear drop down your chin, splattering on the table, right next to all the water droplets from your mug, “A-and you don’t even realize it. Or maybe you do, I don’t know,” you shrug, “Those weeks when we were working on that essay I sent an owl to my mum and she sent one back saying how happy she was that I finally had a friend.” 

There’s a beat of silence. 

You can’t stand to look at his face. 

You helplessly wipe at your cheeks, looking away as you heaved in a shaky breath, nodding confidently for your own sake as you stood up.

“I need to go,” you mutter,  your water sat untouched as you made your way around the people standing and talking, made your way out the door, and let your tears loose. 

—

The break couldn’t come by any faster. 

You occupied your time and mind by doing everything possible. 

You found a broom closet that was big and comfortable enough for you to do your work, and most days you found yourself there. You ate your meals alone, as always, and made sure that wherever Gojo was, you weren’t.

One of the only things you could look forward to was when the holidays came and when everybody left. It meant that only a handful of Slytherin’s stayed and that meant that you could finally have some moments of quiet to yourself. 

Hogwarts was a different kind of magical during Christmas time, and you tried to take time to appreciate the dozen trees, the floating candles that had red ribbons tied around them, the little snow clouds that sometimes followed you around, and the mistletoes that some of the fifth years thought would be funny to hang up around the castle. 

And when the breaks finally came around, you watched as people bid each other farewell, their bags packed sufficiently enough for the two-week break as they made their way out of the school and to the train, waving at each other until they departed. 

You watched from the stairs, knowing that you too could go home, but seeing that your mom picked up more shifts around the holidays, you’d just be spending these two weeks alone rather than surrounded by strangers, which you still preferred. 

The professors seemed to be in a better mood around this time as well, and it helped with distracting you from all the other thousand thoughts that were running through your mind. 

The Slytherin common room was always empty around this time of year. Seeing that most of the kids went to their families, it gave you some time to actually enjoy the amenities you usually miss out on during other times of the year. 

The room itself was decorated with a large Christmas tree near the large, arching window that looked out into the black lake, and stockings on the fireplace of those students that were staying. 

Despite Slytherin and their hatred for the color red, the room was a nice mix between the two clashing colors. 

After dinner, on the first night with everyone gone, you made your way down to the dungeons, muttering out the password as the large doors swept open, allowing you inside. 

Your first thought was to sit in front of the fireplace on one of the couches and catch up on reading, but seeing that there was almost nobody here you decided to go change into something more comfortable. 

Making your way up the stairs that led to the girl's dormitories you noted that most of those who were staying were relays from years before, some fourth and sixth years, a couple of first years, and rounded the corner that led to your room. 

Well, that would’ve led to your room had it not been blocked. 

“Sorry!” You cry out in surprise, a little shocked, and then your shock melts away as you feel like banging your head against the stone wall when you see that it is none other than Gojo. 

“I need to tell you someth-”

“The train left!” You cry out, feeling like dragging him out by his hair. 

“I’m aware-”

“Then why aren’t you on it?” You push past him as you go to open your door, feeling him right behind you. 

You’re glad that all of your other roommates are gone because Gojo doesn’t seem to be giving it much thought as he comes in as well. 

Your arms are crossed as you look around, looking for something, anything, that you could use to ward him away. He’s standing awkwardly at the doorway, wringing his fingers in a way that he never does. 

He’s wearing a loose sweater, gray in color, and it seems to make his eyes even more striking. There are still bags under his eyes, but his face seems a little more flushed as if he was slowly coming back from the dead. His white hair is tousled, and you note that he hasn’t styled it in a while. 

“I’ve been thinking ever since the three broomsticks,” he’s talking and you’re pacing around the room, trying to act like you don’t care that he’s here, “And I have some things I need to tell you.” 

You’re rummaging around in one of your cupboards, but he knows what you’re doing, and he steps a little closer to you, shutting the door behind him as you glance up at him briefly, raising a brow. 

He swallows, running a hand through his white strands as you turn your back to him, looking through your jewelry box as you begin to take off your earrings. 

“I saw you, this summer.”

You stop. 

Gojo continues. 

“My parents had some ministry work to do, and we went to the city. I was walking around one day, trying to figure out where I was supposed to go when I saw you,” Gojo sounded nearer, his voice more desperate, “I saw you through a window. You were working… I think. You had this apron on and you were walking around this little restaurant.” 

You swear you could hear your heartbeat. 

“And you were smiling at something this guy said, and you just looked so…happy,” he pauses, “And pretty…you looked so pretty and I didn’t know what to do because I’ve never felt this strange feeling in my chest where…” 

Where everything just stops, then starts moving in tandem as if there had been a loose screw the entire time until now. 

“And I think I’ve always felt this way, you know?” He’s not stopping, and you’re scared that if you look at him you’re going to believe him, believe that he’s telling the truth and that this isn’t some sort of dream you’re forcing yourself to see, “In our fifth year, when you were telling the class about your happiest memory, you had this smile on your face. Or last year, when we were in potions and Nanami said a joke, you’d laugh and I just felt so…lost.” 

He’s lying. 

“N-no, no, you’re lying,” you croak out, moving past him as you keep your head down, going over to your bed as you sit at the end of it, needing something to sit down on because otherwise you’d collapse.

“I’m not,” Gojo pleads, his voice behind you, “And for so long I thought I was lying to myself because I didn’t know what I was feeling,” he takes a few steps closer, standing at your bedpost, “I’d never felt this way about anyone. A-and you’re right, you are different. You’re so different from anybody else and I love it.”

You’re shaking your head, your back to him as you sniffle. 

“I don’t believe you,” you mutter, your arms wrapped around your middle as your head dips down, lashes wet with tears. 

He doesn’t say anything for a few seconds and you realize it’s because he’s moving to where you’re sitting, and you see him clearly as he crouches down on the ground, his hands moving to hold yours as he forces you to look at him. 

It’s such a strange sight seeing the Gojo Satoru, the Prince of Slytherin, the most stoic and composed person you’ve ever met so…vulnerable in front of you.

“I know-” 

You’re shaking your head at him, lips pouting together as you blink slowly, your nose scrunched up in frustration. 

“You’re lying-” 

“I’m not, I’m begging you, please-” 

“You’re lying, Gojo,” You say, your voice cracking as you feel your tears rolling down your, collecting on your chin before they splatter crudely on your bed sheets, “You don’t feel this way about me. You’re either lying to me o-or to yourself because…” you struggle to find the words, “Because in no world would you feel this way about me.” 

His hands are warm, his thumb gentle as it rubs over your knuckles. And you don’t notice it until he pulls them away to wipe at your tears, his fingers soft and slow against your skin as you hiccup.

“But I do,” he whispers, his thumb cradling your cheek, “I do. Y-you’re so smart, and kind, and witty, and caring, and you’re so wonderfully you.”

This is too much. 

“You don’t know anything about me,” you plead, wondering when he was going to give up the act and leave so you could be alone. 

“You only eat your eggs if there’s a little bit of syrup on them,” Gojo says immediately, and your eyes shoot up to his, “You put an extra flick on the dots of your i’s, you like McGonagall most out of all your other professors, you never change your necklace, you-” 

You push him by the shoulders, frustrated knowing that he’d never stop, changing the subject.

“If you cared about me you would’ve done something,” your voice isn't yours and you can’t recognize it as it escapes your windpipes, “I mean, you only had three years. Y-you called me a mudblood, your friends never stopped when they were doing, you - you,” deep inside, your breath is lodged inside your lungs and you choke on it. 

Gojo cradles your head, pulling you into his chest, and for some reason you let him. You melt into his warmth, into the way he holds you as if you were the thinnest piece of glass, and you can’t remember the last time somebody held you like this.

His hand rubs up and down your back, and you feel your tears and snot wet his sweater, but he doesn’t seem to care. 

“I did,” his own voice shakes, “I did, and I…” he swallows his bile, “I wish I could go back and take it back, take all of it back. If I could trade everything I have to turn back time and change the past, I would. I’ll spend my life making it up if you’d let me. You have no idea what I would do…” for you.

You pull away from him, and he lets you. 

“You’re all I’ve ever been able to think about this past year. And especially ever since that night, I couldn’t get you out of my mind,” his hands go up to hold your face, tracing your features with the most delicate touch, “Your eyes, your nose,” his finger glides down the slope of it, “Your lips, your skin, your hands.” 

“But,” your hands go up to his wrists, pulling them down and he lets you rest them on your lap, hanging off your every word as if you were religion, watching you preach as he remembers every word, every syllable, every tone and inflection you have as gospel, “I’m a muggle-born,” you laugh wetly and painfully, “And you hate muggle-borns.”

And for once you see him break into a small and melancholy smile that's full of years of longing, of confusion, of wanting, and his white strands fall on his face. Unconsciously you move them out of the way so that you could see his eyes. 

“My parents hate muggle-borns, and I’m their only son,” your eyes drop to that gold ring, and he notices, “I believed them, and for so long I felt so confused because you weren’t like anything they described,” his lips quivered, “I don’t hate muggle-borns, and I don’t hate you,” he raised your hands to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to them, “I could never hate you.”

You inhale shakily, your heart thumping in a strange, new rhythm. 

“What about the others?” You ask shakily, “Your friends, your parents, everybody else?” 

He shrugs, looking indifferent as he plays with your fingers. 

“I’ll get new friends,” he shoots you a small smile, “And I can just buy new parents.” 

You snort, rolling your eyes at his antics, and he brightens up seeing your change in demeanor. 

“You…like…me?” You ask finally. 

He lets out a little bit of air in a disbelieving chuckle. 

“I like you more than the air I need to breathe,” he kisses your knuckles again and you snort, rolling your eyes as you wipe at the corners of them. 

“Then how have you been breathing all this time without me?” You ask a bit teasingly, wondering how you never noticed that his eyes have little specks of green in them, or how the blush on his cheeks sometimes traveled up to his forehead. 

“Horribly,” he says and you give him a small laugh, “But it feels like I just took my first breath after eighteen years.” 

—

After that, Gojo could not be separated from your side. 

He sat next to you during all of your meals, throwing nasty jinxes at anybody who looked at the two of you weirdly. Sure, people couldn’t stop talking, but after the first three people who left with a red ink-looking stain on their face, they learned to keep their whispers low. 

When the two of you were in the common rooms he laid next to you as you read, or vice versa, pulling you into his chest as he told you stories from his childhood. 

And of course, it took you a while to warm up to him, but slowly and surely you felt at ease around him, feeling like you could be as true to yourself without any fear of repercussions because he loved you wholly, and he had no cares about anything else. 

“What’s that you’re reading?” He’d say sometimes, looking over your shoulders to scan whatever book it was that you were reading. Thankfully you still had a couple of days till Christmas, and another week of break after that, so the common room was empty, spare for a few stragglers. 

The fireplace crackled in the background, the smell of cinnamon and cloves heavy in the air. 

“Voyages with Vampire,” you reply, turning the page as you hear him groan next to you. 

“Lockhart? The fraud?”

You giggle, shoving him a little bit, eyes never leaving the page as you try not to lose your spot. 

“Yeah, but his books are interesting.” 

And Gojo didn’t care too much, because as you got to read your book he got to be with you, which was all he’s ever wanted since he was fourteen. 

Other days he’d take you to Hogsmeade, his hand holding onto yours, letting you steer him into the different shops you wanted to look at, a content smile on his face. He loved the way you looked, bundled up in your scarves and sweaters, and he loved that it was mainly just the two of you, seeing that Hogsmeade was unusually empty with everybody gone. 

And sometimes he’d squeeze your hands a couple of times just to let you know that he was there, and you’d squeeze back twice, looking behind your shoulder so that you wouldn’t miss his boyish grin. 

He mentally noted all the things you picked up, asking if you wanted it, but when you saw that he was beginning to pull out his wallet you shook your head sheepishly, putting it back as you began looking at other things. 

“Let me just get this-” 

“No!” you cried out, embarrassed as you moved away from whatever shelf it was, hearing him let out a sigh of frustration, laughing at his childish antics. 

“But I can just-” 

“No, Gojo,” you’d tell him, your voice a little sterner, “I don’t like you because you have money. Too much of it, might I add.” 

And he’d pout, his arms circling your waist as he petulantly stays in place, resting his chin on your shoulder so that you can’t move. 

“But I just so coincidentally seem to have it,” he pressed a kiss to the side of your head as you tried to look at something else, trying to act like you didn’t turn to jelly in his hands, “Why won’t you take it?”

You giggled, angling your head to look back at him. 

“Because I don’t need a bursting raspberry delight,” you chided him and he’d groan, pulling you even closer to his chest as he outstretched one of his long arms, picking up something in front of you, inspecting it as he showed it to you, putting it back as you shook your head, “And I don’t need cockroach clusters.” 

And you smiled, feeling happy, genuinely happy as you continued to look around the store with Gojo latched onto you. You felt normal for once, felt the way you’ve been wanting to feel ever since you were eleven.

—

The days passed by and you found yourself back in the common rooms the night before Christmas, sitting on the couches, facing Gojo as you listened to him talk about all the things he’d been wanting to tell you.

The days passed by and you found yourself back in the common rooms with Gojo the night before Christmas, letting him play with your hair as you leaned up against him on the couch, reading another book. 

“Did I ever tell you how Benny Thompson didn’t know what an animagus was?” Gojo says randomly and you gasp, looking over your shoulder as he nods as you lay your book down on your chest. 

“You’re lying,” you say and he shakes his head, twisting and turning that ring on his hand the way he usually does when he likes to fidget. 

“And he asked me if the books in the library had all been written in the actual library,” he continues and you let out a loud, shocked laugh, holding your hand over your mouth in disbelief. 

You put your book on the table so that you could move up closer to him so that you wouldn’t have to crane your neck so much. 

“Well, to be fair, I think he was just a bit disgruntled to be moved away from his partner in crime,” you move some of the hair out of his face as helmets you sit on his lap, his hands resting comfortably on your waist as you lean in to whisper, “Seeing how I saw them hooking up in one of the broom closets.” 

Gojo’s lips part, eyes wide in shock as you nod slowly, a smug grin on your face.

“Makes sense,” he finally muttered and you snorted, thinking back to how the two boys literally couldn’t be away from each other for too long before they made a fuss about it. 

Most of the other students had gone up to their beds, excited for the early morning they’d be having with presents and such, but you liked staying up this night, liked watching as the presents slowly appeared under the tree.

His mouth opened in a small yawn and you moved slightly, feeling guilty for keeping him up so long. 

“Do you ‘wanna sleep?” You offered, twirling some of his white strands around your fingers as his eyes traced over your features. 

His hands moved up and down your back, holding you close to his body. 

“But the presents?” Gojo started, looking at the big Christmas tree near the fireplace as you giggled, noting how he was trying his best to control the yawns that were threatening to spill from his lips. 

“I’ll just look at them tomorrow,” you promise with a giggle, swinging your legs off from him as you stand, stretching your arms above your head as you let out a tired yawn of your own, rubbing at your eyes as you bookmark the page you were at, watching as he stands up, doing a little stretch of his own.

He slings an arm around your shoulders, pulling you to him as he presses a kiss against your forehead, letting you lead the way back to the dormitories. 

“Promise to wake up early tomorrow?” You say, looking at him with a raised brow, watching as he crosses his hands across his heart. 

“Swear on it,” he assures you with a little cheeky grin, his shoulder playfully knocking yours as you snort. 

The two of you walked in comfortable silence, your eyes taking in all the festive decorations, not noticing how he couldn’t stop looking at you. The girl's dormitories were on the left, and down the hall, you’d find the boys, which meant that you were the first to depart as you neared the top of the stairs. 

You move to stand in front of your door, your book in your hands as you stare up at him, noticing the pink flush that never seemed to leave, all over his cheeks. He looked so pretty like this. 

“This is me,” you say jokingly and he chuckles softly, his hands back on your waist as you feel him press a gentle kiss to your forehead. He never pressured you to kiss him back, always leaving small yet thoughtful pecks either on the crown of your head or on your face, wherever he’d find that you didn’t squeal as he tried to kiss.

He says your name quietly, looking down at you as you meet him in the middle. 

“Merry Christmas Satoru,” you whisper, and you see the wide, boyish smile that breaks across his face when you say his name, loving it only when he hears it from your lips. 

“Merry Christmas sweetheart,” his voice quieter than usual, kinder, and in a lovesick way that not even amortentia could replicate.

You look up for a brief second when you sense something is off, and you giggle at the little green and white plant that is forming above your head.

“Mistletoe,” you mutter. 

“Hm?” He sounds confused until he looks up when he sees it growing, it’s green leaves and little white flowering buds, looking back down at you. 

And again, just like that night in October, you don’t know which one of you it was that moved closer to bridge the gap, but either way, only seconds later did you feel him press his lips against yours, and you were gone.

He was gentler than the last time as if he was savoring your lips, your taste, the way you moved against him. Gojo wrapped an arm around you, tugging you to him, his other hand fumbling with the door handle as the two of you tumbled inside, his foot raising to kick it shut as you tangled your fingers in his hair. 

“S-satoru,” you whine, needing more of him, needing him in a way you’ve never felt, your eyes fluttering shot when he bites at your lips, his tongue prodding past your lips as you let him, your stomach fluttering delightfully, “More, need more,”

His eyes flicked open for a second, ensuring you were okay, and he grinned. 

His lips resumed their movements, sucking and yours, teeth nipping as your face became of a mess of spit, moaning slightly as he nudged your jaw up with his nose, your head tilting backward as you gave him more room on your neck. 

Mindlessly you reach for your wand in your back pocket, waving it near the direction of your door as you lock it and cast a muffliato charm, something you would thank yourself for greatly later.

Gojo was relentless as he pressed kisses and sucked harshly on your skin, needing to mark up what was his, needing people to see that you were his, and you could only whine as he left dark marks on your skin, soothing them with little pecks as he moved down. 

His scent was all-consuming, the way he held you made you go dizzy, and if only you knew that what you felt, he felt ten-fold more. Gojo was so crazy about you, that if you told him to jump from his broomstick he’d gladly do it.

“Is this,” he sighs, trying to catch some air, “This okay? Do you want me to stop?” 

And you quickly shake your head, muttering out no, no, as he chuckled darkly, moving your (his) sweater away from your shoulders so he could kiss down there too. 

Your hands, which had been wrapped around his neck, fell to his chest, pushing at his sweater as you wanted to paw at the skin, wanting to feel more of him, and you heard his breathing stutter, his lips pausing momentarily at the feeling of your hands on him. 

He says your name like a mantra like he’s been waiting his entire life to say it, and you catch his eyes once again like he’s asking for permission to continue, and you nod, smiling up at him as you let him.

Your fingers grasp at the hem of his sweater, tugging it upwards so that you could see his skin beneath, the muscles sitting nicely, a glimpse you sometimes saw when he was moving around too much, and your heart stumbled. 

He helped you, tugging it upwards and over his head as he discarded it somewhere on the floor, and for once you feel the air get knocked from your lungs. 

He’s built. Long, muscular shoulders, soft skin that shouldn’t be as daunting as it looked right now, but he wasn’t even focused on that, his nimble fingers running across your waist where your sweater had hitched upwards, and you just know that you need more of this. 

You’re not even thinking as you shed it off of you, joining him on the floor, and his eyes widen, swallowing thick as he sees what he only thought he’d be able to see in the back of his mind as he dreamed. 

You were stunning, and suddenly he thought back to the statues he saw in Italy when he traveled there as a child. He thought back to how those ladies looked, and how the sculptors must be twisting and turning in their graves when they could’ve had you as their muse. 

“Stopp,” you whine, embarrassed, your hands going up to cover your naked skin, but he gently pushes them down, kissing your collarbone, the skin above your breasts which were still hidden with your bra as he shakes his head. 

“You’re beautiful,” he mutters, the words escaping him as if his mind is working faster than any other part of his body, “So beautiful.” 

He dips his head back down to kiss you, and a surprised sound escapes your lips, but you welcome it nonetheless, feeling entranced by him, by the fervor in his movements, as if he wouldn’t survive without this.

His hands worship you, slow and careful as they run against your naked skin walking you back so that your knees hit the back of your bed. 

“You’re pretty good-looking too,” you try for a joke but it falls short from your lips because it’s true. You’d read stories of Aphrodite and Persephone fighting over Adonis just because he was the most gorgeous man they met, and you were worried that if the gods were real you’d have to hide him away forever. 

He hums in the back of his throat, as if he didn’t believe you, and gingerly laid you down on your bed, his massive body looming over you as you smile, a gleeful smile on your face as you try to make sense of what your life was. 

“What’s so funny?” Gojo teased, pressing little butterfly kisses on your cheek, the tip of your nose, your chin, and you couldn’t stop smiling, feeling ticklish when he kissed your neck again, a light giggle falling from your lips that made his ears turn pink. 

“Nothing,” you said breathlessly, squealing when he bit the skin in the middle of your tits, swatting at his head as he grinned, pressing a soothing kiss to the spot. 

“No, it has to be something,” he argues, kissing down the valley of your breasts, down your stomach, never breaking eye contact with you as you swallow thickly, no longer laughing as you feel a heat growing in your stomach, “Is it funny when I kiss here?” He presses a kiss above your navel, “Or here?” He’s reaching the top of your jeans, pulling them down slightly to kiss your hip bone, “Or maybe here?” 

And you shake your head, want and desire in your eyes and he chuckles darkly, slowly unbuttoning your jeans as he slides them down your legs, his heart sputtering in his chest when he comes back up to see you all sprawled out for him. 

You feel self-conscious about your choice of undergarments, both old and nearly falling apart at the seams, not matching in any sense of the word, but Gojo doesn’t seem to care. He looks at you as if you’re a painting that’s suddenly come to life, and he doesn’t know how to handle that. 

You reach behind yourself to work at the old clasp of your bra, sliding it down your arms as you lie back down, looking sheepishly at him as you realize you’re far more exposed at the moment than he is. 

But Gojo seems to have gone to another world, not moving from where he was as his eyes don’t leave from your chest. 

“Don’t look at me like that!” You shout, trying to cover up your bare chest with your hands but he gently tugs your wrists away, his blue eyes wavering as he groans, getting closer to you before he glances up.

“Don’t hide from me then,” he’s pleading, beginning, “Please.” 

And you can’t, because the way he presses gentle kisses to your bare breasts is unlike anything you’ve felt before. You’re breathing hitches, and your head falls back to your pillows as his mouth closes over on your nipples, a moan ripping from your throat. 

“Oh,” you say, breathing shakily through your nose as his other hand goes to your other tit, his thumb flicking over your nipple as you feel yourself grow wetter down there, terrified that there’s going to be a pool when he looks. 

He sucks, bites, marking up this territory that only he’s going to see, his pink lips switching to your other one as you whine out loud, feeling lightheaded as he presses three kisses to your hard nipple, worshiping you like you were his deity. 

“You’re going to be the death of me,” he says with a mouthful of tit, pulling up from your chest as he kisses you briefly, kissing down your body one more time before he settles in between your legs, “And no man has been more willing to die than me.” 

You whine when his hot kisses trail up from your calf to your knees, wet as they glisten in the candlelight as if he was making his path visible up to where you were burning, needing for him to meet you. 

“You talk a l-lot,” you’re trying to sound steady but you can’t when he’s looking at you like that, but he just kisses the inside of your thigh for a second long, his nose nudging at your clothed cunt as you whine. 

You’ve only heard about the other girls talking about sex, feeling embarrassed as they acted out what the other guys did with them. They talked about how they threw them around on the bed or how they pushed their heads down into the pillows but they never mentioned anything about this.

“You’re right,” he murmurs, “I should stop.” 

And he doesn’t give you any warning as he presses a kiss to your clit through your underwear, your little gasp of surprise going straight to his dick. He hitches your legs on his shoulders, looping a finger around the waistband of your panties as he slides them down, a deep, guttural groan almost punched from his lungs at the sight of your glistening cunt. 

Fuck, he thought to himself, you actually were going to be the death of him with the way he still can’t properly breathe around you. 

“Perfect,” Gojo whispers, his head dipping down, “You’re perfect.” 

And before you can chide him again, he dives down, his tongue licking and sucking at your pussy lips, your back arching off of the bed as your fingers grasp onto his head for support, unknowingly pushing him even further into you. 

He’s fast, tasting you as he groans again, your saccharine essence bursting against his tongue, and he can’t control himself. It’s so messy and wet, and you can see your juice shining on his chin when you glance down briefly to look at him. 

“O-oh,” you stutter when he pushes a slender finger inside your walls, clenching down on him as his lips find your clit, suctioning at it as you whine for him to go fast, “Oh god,” 

He smiles against you, his finger slowly moving in and out, his lips kissing your clit, feeling the way you grew tight around him and didn’t stop. 

When he added his middle finger you felt like you were going to die, not knowing how you’d be able to handle all of him if this was just you losing yourself on his fingers, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care right now. 

His fingers are long and reach deep within you, something you’ve never felt before, but knowing that you’d surely die without it if he stopped.

“S-Satoru,” you’re mewling, and he thinks he could just cum with the way you’re saying his name, “Don’t stop, please, f-faster.” 

And he kisses your cunt to tell you that he hears you, his fingers positioning in and out of you, his tongue alternating from where his fingers were to going back up to your little bud, your eyes screwed shut as you feel that rope grow tighter and tighter in your stomach. 

His unoccupied hand travels up your stomach to toy with your breasts, flicking your nipples back and forth, the added sensation along with everything else causing you to nearly lose whatever sanity it was that you had left. 

Your toes curled, your fingers gripping onto his white strands even tighter, feeling bad for how hard you were pulling at him, but he urged you, loving that sting. 

“How do you feel?” He takes a break, his voice a little muffled, his fingers not stopping as you whine helplessly, “Everything okay?” 

And you can tell he’s just teasing you because when you push his head back down he goes willingly, acting as if you were his last meal on this earth and he just couldn’t wait for the sweet release of death. 

“Good,” you moan, “S-so good,” and your voice is egging him on, making him go faster and faster, your toes curling as he switches between his fingers and his mouth, doing something heavenly that you never knew you could experience. 

You’re growing tighter around him, your chest heaving as you feel something strange, unlike anything you’ve ever felt before, coming. 

“W-wait, ‘Toru, I…” and you can’t stop it, your eyes going white as he doesn’t stop either, his fingers pistoning in and out of you with no remorse, “I don’t know…fuck…coming, I…” and you’re just babbling mindlessly now, your back almost off of the bed as something snaps and you’re gushing around his fingers. 

It’s euphoric, the feeling. You can’t breathe but somehow you can breathe better than you have in your life, your walls clenched around him like a vice, your thighs shaking as you cum around his fingers. 

You wailed out a hopeless moan, your hands covering your mouth as if that could silence you, fat tears dotting your eyes from the overwhelming pleasure you were feeling and you were trying to fill your lungs back up with air as his mouth never stopped sucking at your clit until he was sure your climax was over.

When you finally calmed down and sank back onto the bed, Gojo sat up from between your thighs, his hair messy, chin and lips soaked with his spit and your release, his eyes a bright cerulean blue. 

You watched as he stuck his fingers in his mouth, cleaning you off of him, moaning like a whore at the sight. He dipped back down, kissing you feverishly, letting you kiss yourself on him as you whine, feeling like a different person entirely. 

When he pulls away there’s a line of spit connecting your lips, and he’s never looked happier.

“Are you feeling good?” He’s rubbing soothing circles on your hips, “Want to stop?” 

You groan, swatting at his shoulders. 

“You’re too attentive,” you say, and he snorts, kissing in between your brows as he pecks your lips one last time, reaching down to unbutton his pants, and throw them somewhere along with the rest of your clothes. 

You watch in a love-sick haze as he tugs at his boxers, his fingers quick as he discards them too, and suddenly, the two of you are bare before each other. 

He is Adonis, you finally decide when you get to get a full look at him, there’s no question. 

His legs are just as toned as the rest of him, his thighs huge with pure muscle, something necessary to be quidditch captain as well as one of the best seekers Hogwarts has ever seen. The v-line that leads down to his…oh god. 

He’s huge, and while you haven’t been with any other guy, you can tell that he’s big. His dick sits hard and angry against his stomach, his pretty pink tip leaking with pre, curving slightly. Your mouth waters at the veins that start at his base, his white hairs trimmed, and go upwards. 

How would he fit in you? 

“Don’t worry,” Gojo assures you, as if reading your mind, “I’ll go slow. Tell me at any point if it hurts, okay?” 

And you nod, your mouth watering as he climbs atop of you, his hand near your head as he presses one final kiss to your hairline, wrapping your leg around his waist as his other hand goes down to finger his dick, plunging two fingers into your wet pussy, lubricating it in your wetness as he looks down at where the two of you met. 

“Ready?” He asks, and you can only whine, murmuring out a needy yes as he chuckles, your legs spreading open to accommodate him, and he lines his tip up with your entrance. 

You feel like the air that you had so tirelessly gulped back seconds ago was punched out of you at the feeling, and he stays true to his words, going as slow as humanly possible so that you could get used to his length. 

He pushes past you gently and carefully, your walls clenching around him, memorizing every vein he has, the curve of his dick, and you watch as his hips press into yours, the way his abs tense as he tries to go slow. 

It stings, but in the most delicious way possible. Your eyes dot with tears, but you need him to move, not knowing why he was taking so long.

Gojo balances himself above you, and you grow wetter and wetter the more he sinks into your warmth, your legs circling his waist to pull him in even closer, your arms tangling around his shoulder, into the hairs at his nape. 

“More,” you whisper, needing him unlike anything you’ve needed before, “M-more, ‘Toru, please,” 

His eyes look at you with slight apprehension. 

“Are you s-” 

“Yes,” you cut him off, your legs tightening around him as he groans, his dick pressing more into you, sinking into you completely until all of him was sheathed inside your cunt. 

You could feel him in your stomach with the way he was pressing up into you, feel the outline of his dick against your skin, and his head dipped down so that you couldn’t see his face anymore, his breathing stuttering as he tried to regain his composure, trying his best to not pull out and slam back into you. 

Gojo gives you a couple of seconds to grow used to him and tries to be as much of a gentleman as he can be, but with every other tick of that clock on the wall he thinks he’s going to go inside, not recognizing himself anymore. 

Your chest heaves, and you nod. 

“‘M ready,” you say finally, and his head draws back up to you, his brows furrowed together, trying to make sure that you weren’t just saying that for his sake, but you nod again, “I’m ready.” 

And god, he feels like he’s finally seen the light as he pulls out of you, nearly all of his dick from your snug cunt, your juices shining in the light, and he pushes himself back in, groaning out from deep inside his chest as you clench around him. 

He does it again, and again, and again, and before you know it he’s slamming his hips into yours. 

“Shit,” he moans, his voice deeper and lower in pitch, “F-fuck, you’re so tight, you have’ta,” he lets out whine when you clench around him, “You have to relax, please sweetheart, you’re killing me.”

His hands are leaving bruises on your hips from how hard he’s holding onto you, your moans mixing with his as your ankles dig deep into his back, your back arching so much that your tits were pressed up against his chest, gleaming with sweat. 

“Mhh, ‘Toru, oh my g-god,” you can’t even recognize your own voice, “S-so good, s’big ‘Toru,”

You watch as he drops a hand in between your two bodies, his fingers rubbing at your clit as your mouth opens in a silent scream, sweat dotting at your forehead as you bit your lip to keep in your debaucherous moans. 

He bites down on your shoulder, leaving yet another mark, his nose inhaling at the last remnants of your perfume, making sure he’d never forget a single thing about tonight. 

His fingers along with his dick are driving you to ruin, and you feel that same coil coming back, being pulled taunt deep within you far quicker than the first time. He’s relentless against your clit, kissing your tits gently as you cry out. 

“Shit, I…” you can barely breathe, his own groans and moans filling up the room, “I can’t, I feel like…!” 

“I know, I know,” he says, knowing what you’re meaning, what you’re feeling, because he’s not too far from his own release either, “Come on, let go, I’ve got you,” he muttered against your glistening skin, edging you on even more.

Your fingers tangle in his white strands once again, pulling him closer to you as your lips lock with his, the kiss messy and not even coherent but you don’t care because as his tongue mingles with yours, his hips never stopping and his fingers picking up pace, you moan out loud, lewd and wanting into his mouth as you come. 

This time is even more intense than the last time, and you can’t stop clenching around him, your cum coating his dick, making it even more wet as you spasm around him, your eyes seeing stars, feeling a loud thumping in your head and chest. 

It doesn’t help that he doesn’t stop either, your orgasm lasting even longer as he chases his own high, his head thrown back in an instant as he pulls out to finish on you, white spurts coating your heaving chest, painting you like his own portrait. 

“Fuck,” he sighs out, his white lashes fluttering against his cheeks as he looks at you, underneath him, covered in his cum, and feels something primal surge in his chest at the sight, like you’re his god and he’s finally in heaven.

Even after he pulls out you feel yourself pulsing around nothing, already missing him as you whine absentmindedly at the loss.

When you finally calm down, you crack your eyes open to see him sitting on his haunches, pushing back his sweat soaked hair away from his face as he shoots you own of his wide grins, your own face breaking into a smile as you throw and arm across face. 

You feel the bed dip, and peek out to see him walking away. 

“Where…?” You croak out, your voice hoarse, and he throws you a wink from over his shoulders, finding a clean towel in your little bin that you keep at the end of the room for when you and the rest of the girls need to shower.

He brings it over to you, grabbing his wand, casting a small aguamenti charm on it, only to get it slightly wet, as he comes back to where you were lying. 

You silently watch as he gingerly drags it across your body, cleaning you up between your legs, wincing at the way you inhaled sharply, still feeling raw, and kissing your stomach in an apologetic manner. He then dragged it across your chest, making sure he got everything, throwing the towel in the dirty bin as he climbed up to bed with you. 

“Thirsty?” He asks, and you nod meekly, graciously accepting the cup that he fills with the pitcher near your bed stand, gulping it all down as some of the water droplets fall on your chest, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand as you set it to the side, falling back in your bed 

The bed isn’t really meant for two people, especially one with his size, so you have to cuddle close together, but you don’t mind the way he pulls you closer to his chest, pulling the blanket above so that it rests on your naked body. 

“Good?” He asks simply, and you nod again, craning your neck to look up at him as you smile gleefully. 

“Good.” 

—

That morning, you were the first to wake. 

You blink slowly, sitting up, wiping at your eyes as your mouth opens in a loud yawn. 

You look over to Gojo next to you, his hands still strewn across your waist, his lips parting slightly as he sleeps gently. 

You don’t want to wake him up, not used to seeing him so at ease, but you remember that it’s Christmas morning, falling back down to your mattress as your fingers tap on his bicep, watching as he cracks one blue eye open. 

“Hmm?” He hums tiredly, annoyed that you had moved away from him, pulling you back to the furnace that was his chest. 

“You promised you’d wake up,” you say with a whine, giggling when his eyes snap open, never wanting to break a promise he makes to you, sitting up suddenly as he looks around the empty room. 

“I’m kidding,” you tease, “I don’t usually get much, come back to sleep.” 

Gojo yawns, rubbing his hands across his face, and gives you a knowing look. Your brows furrow together in confusion, tilting your head to the side. 

“What?” You ask, sitting up next to him as his thumb traces against your knuckles. 

“Nothing,” he kisses your forehead, your nose, your cheeks and then finally your lips, “It’s just that I think that the majority of presents under that tree are for you,” Gojo says with a grin, watching with a smile as your face breaks into the cutest grin, your eyes bright as you tug on his fingers. 

“Really?” you’re already getting out of bed, the smile on your face never ending as you tug on your jeans from the floor, “Really?” 

“Really,” he says, handing you your sweater as you pull that on mindlessly, your movements fast and hurried, excited for Christmas morning for the first time since you were a kid. 

“Oh, and,” he holds onto your wrist, stopping you momentarily as you try to pull on a sock over your feet, “I have something I wanted to give you…in private.” 

Your eyes squint together, trying to see if he was going to say a dirty joke or if he was actually serious. 

When he releases your wrist, he unfolds your hands, taking your ring finger as he slides a ring across it, something that he must’ve had hidden in his hand for a good second because you never saw him get anything. 

“What…?” You turn your hand around, only to see his gold ring, embellished with his family crest, shining back at you. 

“‘Toru, I…” You were shaking your head, going to take it off, but he stops you, his blue eyes shimmering a light sky color, creasing upwards as he gives you one of the smiles that he only reserves for you. 

“It’s yours,” he says, closing your fingers into a fist as he brings it up to his lips, kissing it softly, “And besides, it’s just a placeholder.” 

You let out a disbelieving chuckle, looking at the ring once again as you glance up at him. 

“Placeholder for what?” 

Gojo gives you another knowing look, as if you should know the answer to this question. 

“You’ll see,” he promises, and you laugh, helping him put on his own clothes, messing with his hair, pushing it back so that it wouldn’t be so messy. 

“You want to be my husband?” You say teasingly, walking to the door as you cast him a glance, “Because you should know that I need to get a stable job and house and everything before I even think of marrying. Are you sure you’ll want to wait that long? After all that time?” 

He pulls you in for a hug, kissing the crown of your head. 

“Even after all that time,” he murmurs against your hair, “Always.”

taglist: @satorusemepls, @mokonasenpaiposts, @kao-ri, @rinxgojo, @notsochillnerd, @astral-hydromancy, @holylonelyponyeatingmacaron, @tedbunny333, @13-09-01, @mynameislove1, @hyunsuks-beanie, @uziwork, @haychhans, @cccccccccccleo, @sweetteez, @mxdwomann, @sorcerersseestars, @tiramusuc0ffee, @sourairi, @luringfantasy, @gojoswife69420, @empathum, @luna-v-roiya, @r0ckst4rjk, @hyori2, @kaisenkalogathia, @kraytjustkrayt, @nobayashi-blog

[thatdesigirl17]

tolerate it

theodore x fem!reader

based on the song tolerate it by taylor swift

warnings: arranged marriage, reader being really in love with theo, language, implied cheating, angst, theo having daddy issues

Theodore’s father had arranged Theo’s marriage with Y/N Y/L/N as soon as Theo had reached his last year at Hogwarts. In his eyes, she was perfect for him, a pureblood Slytherin with an influential family background. Y/N was happy, she had always been attracted to Theo but she wished it was them that had made this decision and not their parents. In a few weeks, Y/N had already fallen for Theo who, on the other hand still seemed cold and distant. Yet, she was determined to make him let down his guard and see how perfect they were together. She had been successful in her endeavours to an extent. Whenever she got the chance, she would sit with her head low and watch him intently, reading for school, observing his face or when they would spend the night together, she would watch him breathe with his eyes closed, his face peaceful and serene. The mere sight of him was a source of comfort for her. Whenever he would be upset, frustrated or even excited, she was glad to be there for him and listen to him vent. Theo had gained a soft spot for her, thinking that he could love her. Even when he didn’t wish to accept that his father was right, he couldn’t deny that Y/N was as close to a perfect fit as he had ever gotten, but the thought of giving in to his father was eating him alive. 

Y/N was completely oblivious to these thoughts of Theo. She was elated that Theo had been reciprocating some of her love. Until they had started fighting, Theo had started calling her a bit too clingy and stating that she always took up too much space and time. That hurt her like a dagger to the heart, she had always been trying to be perfect for him, but she tolerated it. She took all his indiscretions in good fun, she tried to be better and give him space. All of that still didn’t seem to satisfy Theo, if only, it made him take her for granted, it made him assume that he always had her to fall back on. Soon, their arguments became more frequent and Theo returned to his cold and distant self. She started noticing the little things that he had started doing to avoid her and the things he didn’t do, the little things that he used to do earlier that made her feel like he could love her back. Y/N thought it’d be best to go home for the weekend, giving Theo some space and then she would surprise him hoping that it’ll make him a bit happier. 

Theo had accompanied her to the station. ‘I’ll miss you.’, she said, pecking his cheek. She felt him get away from her touch as he said, ‘It’s only the weekend.’ ‘Right.’, she sighed, feigning a small smile. Wordlessly, he turned around and walked away as she made her way back to her carriage. 

While she was set to return to Hogwarts on Monday morning, she had planned to surprise Theo by returning on Sunday evening. She had baked lasagne for him, the recipe for which she had taken from the Nott’s house elf, in an attempt to make it taste like his mother’s. She knew how much he missed her and how this dish was his comfort food when she used to make it for him. She had also bought him a watch that he had had his eye on for a while, ‘only the best for Theo.’, she had said after her cousin noted that it was way too expensive of a gift. 

When she returned to Hogwarts, she made sure to enter the Slytherin common room, when it was the time for the boys’ Quidditch practice. She set her luggage in her dorm and got ready in a dress that Theo had gifted her. She went down to the common room and set up a table in a secluded corner to have some privacy. She laid it all with fancy shit, the silverware, the Italian wine that was Theo’s favourite and the dish in the middle. She sat on one of the chairs which had a clear view of the common room door, waiting for him to return, like she had done several times before. She rested her chin on her hands as she laid her head down on the table. It was almost time for dinner, other students were leaving the common room to go to the Great Hall, but Theo still hadn’t returned. She had an uneasy feeling in her chest as she waited for him, her heart growing heavy with every passing moment. 

Soon, the sound of the door opening made her perk her head up slightly. The scene that unfolded in front of her, made her breath hitch and her heartbeat falter. Theo entered the common room with his arm wrapped around the shoulders of another girl, their faces inches apart as Theo leaned in and whispered something in her ear that made her grin. ‘Theo?’, she called out, the feeling of being broken evident in her voice. Theo turned at the mention of his name, his steps faltering and his hand returning to his side quickly as her eyes met Y/N’s figure slowly standing up from the chair. ‘Y/N, wha-what are you doing here?’, he stuttered, the faintest hint of frustration in his voice. His dead eyes took in the view, the table all set in front of him with the food and wine. ‘What-what is going on? Who is she?’, she scoffed in disbelief, her eyes wandering between the two of them. ‘Y/N…Let me explain. Come with me.’, he started, moving towards her, his hand stretching out to hold hers. She snatched her hand away, shaking her head, ‘If it’s all in my head, tell me now. Tell me I have got it wrong somehow. Were you going to cheat on me?’ 

She searched his face, waiting for an answer, waiting to see the briefest glimpse of remorse or guilt in his emotionless eyes. ‘Or have you done it already?’, she said upon not receiving an answer, looking at him, her voice breaking as tears welled up in her eyes. Theo didn’t meet her gaze, his eyes focussed on the floor, ‘I-I’m sorry.’ ‘Oh, you’re sorry? Is that it?’, she said, her anger taking up over the grief. He looked up, meeting her eyes as the tears rolled down her cheek, ‘I don’t know what to say.’ She sighed in disbelief, her rose-coloured glasses coming off. ‘You have always tolerated me, haven’t you? You never loved me, it was always a facade. A fucking act! All of it!’, she spat, her fist slamming on the table. ‘What did I not do for you? I made you this food that you liked! Bought this wine, this watch you wanted!’, she said, as she flipped over the items, throwing them on the floor as they shattered. ‘Y/N, don’t make a scene. It’s not like that.’, he said, closing his eyes. ‘Oh, you have some fucking nerve, Theodore. I made you my everything, gave you all that I had, and went through all that shit you threw at me. For what? For this?’, she spat coming closer to him, the use of ‘Theodore’ instead of ‘Theo’ making him wince. ‘Anyone else would be lucky to have a person who would love them like this, but you had to throw all of this in the flames didn’t you? My love should’ve been celebrated but you tolerated it. All the while I thought that you were finally coming around.’, she said, every word, every bit of realisation making her heart shatter further, as he shook his head, denying her accusations. 

‘Tell me, Theodore. What would you do, if I left everything? If I break free, take this dagger you put in me and remove it? It would leave you in ruins, you know that. You know your father and what he’s capable of.’, she said. Theo looked up and the mention of his father made him realise how royally he had fucked up. ‘I’m sorry, Y/N. Just talk to me once, please.’, he pleaded. She shook her head, ready to walk away from everything with him, ‘There’s nothing left to talk about, Theodore. It’s all over.’

[caramelcal]

Hi, I love your story!! I wanted to know if you can do a when theo is jealous and leave hickey to fem reader. If your not comfortable that’s fine thank you 🤭.

LOVEBITES AND POTIONS

word count: 1.4k

a/n: hiya lovely! thank you for sending a request<3

warnings: fem!reader, no house specified. jealous!theo. boyfriend!theo, playful allegations of cheating/going on dates with others. hickeys.

"Hey, y/n!" A voice called out from behind you, halting you in your movements.

It was a Friday, and you had just left your last class of the day, ready to relax over the weekend with your boyfriend, Theo. That's where you were heading right now; to his dorm.

Well, until someone called out from you.

"I'm glad I caught up with you," The voice said as you turned around, eyes catching onto Zacharias, a Hufflepuff boy in your year, and your potions partner.

"Hi, Zacharias," You gave the boy a pleasant smile, trying to be as nice as possible. You held your books in your hands in front of your chest, looking at the boy who seemed a little out of breath.

"Hi, um-" He started, scratching the back of his neck as his eyes cast away from you for a second, "I wanted to talk to you about our potions project."

You looked at him with a small smile, urging him to go on as he took a deep breath. Tons of students bustled around the two of you, loud, excited to get off to their dorms or hang out with their friends, and although you wanted nothing more than to run to Theo's dorm, you were patient with the boy in front of you.

He seemed nervous.

"Well, I was thinking we could get a headstart on our project, maybe tomorrow in the library?" He proposed, his eyes looking pretty much everywhere but your face, "I mean, I really need a good grade on this project, and I know that you like to..."

Zacharias continued, but you zoned out a little as your eyes caught on to a particular group of Slytherin boys. They all joked about, pushing each other, and just acting generally boisterous. Not a single one of them wore their robes, all claiming to be far too cool for them, their ties loosened and white sleeves rolled up.

Your eyes caught onto the familiar tall figure of your boyfriend as he laughed, his blue eyes catching onto yours as you smiled, getting a smile in return. His friends all started to notice you too, riling Theodore up as boys do when they saw the look in his eyes.

"Y/n?" A hand gently brushed against your shoulder, drawing your attention back towards Zacharias, his eyebrows slightly drawn, and a slight redness in his cheeks.

"That sounds like a good idea, Zacharias," His face brightened a little, "but I can't do tomorrow, I have plans with my boyfriend, sorry."

"Oh."

"We can start on Sunday though? How does that sound?"

A small smile makes its way back onto Zacharias' lips as he nods, "Yeah, that sounds good."

Before you can respond, however, to work out times or anything, you hear a call from behind you, "Y/n! C'mon! We don't have all day!"

Your head whips around, hearing Draco shout after you to get you to hurry up, only to realise all of the Slytherin boys are staring at you, waiting for you to come with them. With a smile, you turn back around and say your goodbyes to Zacharias, before practically skipping over to the boys.

Your eyes don't move from the tall blue-eyed boy, your arms thrown over his shoulders as you reach up and peck him on the cheek. His eyes don't quite meet yours, focusing on something behind you as his hands snake possessively around your waist, a kiss being placed on your forehead.

Then, you're whisked away to the Slytherin common room, and soon enough, Theodore's dorm. The door shuts behind your boyfriend as you place your books down on his bedside table, and he wastes little time pulling your robe away from your neck and down your shoulders, slipping it off your body.

"I missed you," You spoke quietly as you turned around in your boyfriend's hold, your hands going over his shoulders and curling into the hair on the nape of his neck.

Your head is on his chest, breathing in the scent of his cologne and cigarettes, eyes closing at the comfort it brings you.

Theo hummed in response, pulling back a little as he picked you up with ease, placing you down on his bed as he sat beside you, facing you.

His lips soon find yours, his hand sitting around the back of your neck, keeping your lips firmly on his as his thumb caresses your hair away from the side of your neck. His free hand pulls at your tie, then unbuttons the top two buttons of your shirt, moving the fabric to free the side of your neck.

Then, his lips latch onto your neck, near your jaw, and the second you feel him suck and his teeth lightly graze over the skin, you know exactly what he's trying to do.

"Theo, lower. Those marks are going to be visible above my uniform."

Yet, he doesn't stop. In fact, he seems even more eager to mark up the side of your neck when he hears those words tumble from your lips.

"Theo."

He pulled away a little, but you could still feel his soft breaths against the bare skin of your neck. You looked down at him with a quizzical look.

"Why are you doing it so high?"

He avoided the question, his hands pushing your hair back once more as his eyes cast back down to the skin of your neck, "You excited about your date with your little boyfriend?"

"I didn't realise we'd planned a date this weekend."

"I'm talking about your other boyfriend," He quipped back sarcastically, before his lips made contact with another spot on your neck, littering what you can guarantee are going to be countless dark bruises along your neck.

Your eyebrows furrow at this remark as you try to piece together what Theodore could possibly be talking about. What other plans did you even have?

"Are you talking about Zacharias? He's just helping me with our potions project," You informed your boyfriend, your hand coming up to grab at the strands of his soft hair once more.

"Tell him to leave it, I'm better at potions anyway. I'll help you," Theodore bargained, without his mouth moving away from your neck.

He wasn't wrong. Theodore was brilliant at potions, but regardless of that, it was your and Zacharias' project, not you and Theodore's.

"Wait," A subtle smirk came to your lips as you began to piece together what was happening, your hand pushing Theo away from your neck, "Are you jealous, Theo?"

You held him in such a way that he was unable to attach his lips to your neck to continue his attack, your head tilting a little as you waited for a response.

Theodore rolled his eyes in response, mumbling, "No."

"Are you sure?" You pouted a little, raising an eyebrow at the way his eyes were cast to the side, not looking you in the eyes. His hair was a little messed up, and a small pout had made its way to his lips, too. He crossed his arms over his chest, almost comically, as if he was a child in a huff.

"That puff has nothing on me," He mumbled cockily, making you laugh softly as you moved your hands from holding him back. Not skipping a beat, Theo latched his lips back onto your skin, on the opposite side now.

"Stop," You laughed a little, "Snape's going to have a heart attack if he sees these."

You had absolutely no doubt that these were going to be a pain in the ass to hide. Even with your hair down, it was going to be a real struggle. With how many Theodore had left too, you knew the chances of you being able to cover them with makeup was going to be difficult, too.

"Hope the puff does, too," Theodore mumbled almost childishly.

"Don't be jealous, Theo," You spoke softly, your hand coming up to play with his hair once more, your other hand rubbing his back, "You know I'm yours."

"You're right," Theodore responded, pulling away from the last hickey he made, then pressing a soft kiss against your neck, now littered with marks, then your jaw, then your lips. Finally pulling back, his blue eyes meet yours, a smile coming to his face as he surveys his work, then your face, "All mine."

[hotcinnam0n]

Happy Sallow Sunday my lovelies!

I'm wrapping up the Firefighter series with our hottie Sebastian. Enjoy!

[raven-dor]

Hi, could you write something with Charlie Weasley x reader, where reader is friends with the twins and they invite her to the burrow where she meets Charlie, and she's really smart and knows a lot about dragons and that's how her and Charlie start to bond.

Also could reader maybe be a Slytherin, I'm a Slytherin so I just think reader would be too, but the house can be unspecified or something else if you want.

lost without you

in which charlie weasley meets the love of his life

PAIRING: charlie weasley x slytherin!reader

WARNINGS: fluff, sneaking around, falling out, love confessions, molly weasley (sorry...)

AN: i love this request so much... thank you for asking!!

WORD COUNT: 3.7k

🎶 : lost without you - freya ridings

She was exhausted, that was for sure. Spending all night- she blushed. She shouldn’t have done that, but he was so kind and strong. Mysterious but gentle. He was brilliant; she could tell by the look in his eyes. 

She giggled as he kissed down her neck, squirming from his touch. He scoffed, no malice behind it. “Love, stop moving…” 

She blushed wildly, hiding her face behind her hands. “I never do this…” 

He pulled himself back to her level, prying her hands away. “There you are.” He whispered. “Don’t hide from me, please.” 

“I’m embarrassed.” She whispered back. “I never-” 

“Never do this.” He smirked, laying beside her and staring at her intensely. “You’ve said.” 

She moved herself closer, tracing shapes on his chest. “What do you do for work?”

He laughed, and she thought to herself he had a rather jolly laugh. “Do you really want to know?” 

She nodded, her eyes begging to shut. His hold was comforting despite the fact that she had known him for approximately two hours. “You look like you have a…” She yawned. “An interesting job.” 

He smiled, leaning his head on hers. “I work in…” 

She had fallen asleep before she had heard where.

Y/N blushed thinking about it. There she was, sleeping in a stranger's arms. 

Then again, it hadn’t felt like that. It felt like she had known him for years. She shook her head, trying to stop herself from daydreaming. George laughed, nudging her ever so softly. “Wake up, Dolly Daydream.” 

She rolled her eyes, shoving him away from her. “I am awake, thank you very much.” 

Fred smirked. “You have that look on your face.” 

“What look?” She glared. “I don’t have a look.” 

He nodded. “Yes, you do.” He laughed. “It's that look when you can't stop thinking about someone.” 

George wiggled his eyebrows. "A secret admirer, perhaps?"

She turned beat red, walking ahead of them to escape the interrogation. 

The twins had a tradition, one they had kept up since they’d gotten into Hogwarts. Every Sunday during the summer, their best friend would come to the Burrow for dinner. There had never been a Sunday she had missed (besides the brief time she was on the run from Voldemort with Ron, Hermione, and Harry). 

And in all that time, Y/N could proudly say she had met every one of their siblings. Except Charlie. According to Mrs. Weasley (who Y/N knew was prone to dramatics) he absolutely hated his family and chose the furthest possible job to worry her. 

Y/N was sure it was because he actually wanted to go to Romania. All her children were good people, and she doubted Charlie stressed his mother out on purpose. 

They had been walking into the Burrow when a shriek rang out from inside the home. Gripping their wands, they ran in ready to fight, when they saw that the shriek had come from Mrs. Weasley, who was sobbing rather dramatically. 

They lowered their wands, peering further into the house to see a young man, not much younger than Bill, being hugged tightly by Ginny. Fred and George left their best friend's side instantly, hugging the man tightly.

“Charlie!” 

Y/N tilted her head, her eyes widening instantly when he turned around. 

What was he- This was the infamous Charlie Weasley. Seeker, Head Boy, and expert Dragonoligist. His grin was bright, and she loved the way his freckles accentuated his cheeks. He locked eyes with her, a twinkle appearing in them. He extended his hand, his voice light and full of humor. “You must be Y/N.” 

She nodded, ignoring the fact that her cheeks felt like they were on fire. She could never tell George and Fred. “That’s me.” 

He smiled, shaking her hand lightly. “I’m Charlie.” 

“I know.” Her eyes widened, and she stumbled over her words, backtracking. “I meant that- Fred and George- I’ve met all of your siblings, so I just thought-” 

He laughed, interrupting her. “It’s alright.” 

Fred raised an eyebrow, clearing his throat. “Shall we eat? I’m famished.” 

Y/N nodded, walking away from Charlie abruptly. George linked arms with his friend, pulling a face when she looked up at him. She rolled her eyes, shoving him away and sitting down. 

Molly smiled at her second eldest son, loading food onto his plate. “You look as if you’ve been starved, Charlie.” 

He glared, taking the food without complaint. “I’ve gained weight since you last saw me, Mum.” 

“What have they been feeding you in Romania?” 

“The same thing you’re giving me now, Mum.” He looked over at Y/N, winking. “I’m all muscle now.” 

Fred shoved him, hissing. “What are you doing?” 

Y/N’s cheeks were still red, and she looked away. Was he trying to fluster her; because he was succeeding. Charlie kept pestering her with small talk, much to her and her blushing nature’s dismay.

“What house were you then?” 

“Slytherin.” She spoke through her food. Placing a hand over her mouth, she said it once more. “I was in Slytherin.” 

His eyebrows rose, but he made no movement to disparage her house. “Makes sense that the twins were drawn to you.” He smirked. “They’ve always been rather cunning.” 

Molly sighed. “You are one of the only Slytherins I’ve been able to stand talking to.” She smiled. “Which is quite the feat.” 

Y/N smiled shyly, not liking all the attention that was currently on her. Normally, she faded into the background, only providing (what she thought) were witty remarks when necessary. And now, here he was, pulling her out of her shell. It was some kind of cruel joke, she decided, that they had met the way they had.

Loud knocks rang through her apartment, and she groaned, shoving her face into her pillow. “One moment!” 

The knocks persisted, and she threw the covers off of her body, racing towards the door, wand in hand. “I said one-” She tilted her head, looking through the peephole to see Charlie. Now suddenly highly self-conscious about her appearance, she cast a beauty spell, smoothing out her hair before opening the door. “Hiya.” 

He nodded. “May I come in?” 

She crossed her arms. “Why?” 

He smirked, stepping closer. “Is it so shocking that I wanted to see you?” 

She blushed, stepping aside so he could enter. Watching suspiciously as he looked around at her flat, she shut the door. “You wanted to see me? That’s it?” 

He nodded, picking up a photo album. “What’s in here I wonder?” 

Y/N laughed, reaching out to steal it from his hold. “Charlie-” 

“Indulge me.” He sat down, patting the cushion beside him. “Tell me about them.” 

She sat beside him, peering over her shoulder and explaining each photo he asked about. “That’s me and the twins in fifth year. I think that was two days after they’d left the hospital wing.” 

Charlie laughed. “When they tried to enter the Triwizard Tournament?” 

She nodded, laughing with him. “Exactly. And that-” She pointed to the next photo. “Is me and George at the Yule Ball.” 

He tensed. “You and George-” 

She shook her head quickly, placing a hand on his arm. “We’re just friends, trust me. Ange would have my head.” 

He smiled. “Ah. Well…” He looked back at the book, smirking at the baby photo. “What’s this-” 

She snatched the book from his hands, clutching it to her chest. “Absolutely not.” 

Charlie had been coming over practically every day since his first impromptu visit. During those visits, they’d discovered that they both had a mutual love of dragons and that her knowledge of dragons rivaled his, a professional dragonkeeper. 

(She never let him forget it.) 

She sat at her bar as Charlie cooked them a Romanian dish he had made ‘one hundred times before.’ Y/N trusted his cooking, after all his mother was Molly Weasley. She then reasoned with herself that his brothers were also Fred and George, who couldn’t cook to save their lives. He moved around her kitchen like he’d lived there for ages, and she tried not to drool as she watched his muscular frame. 

He cleared his throat, laughing. “Williams? You alright?” 

She sat up, realizing she had started daydreaming. Nodding quickly, she smiled. “Great.” 

He sat his spoon down, walking over to her until they were right by each other. “Are you sure? You seemed…” He whispered, staring at her lips. “Distracted.” 

She laughed, walking away. Salazar, if he looked at her like that again, she didn’t know if she could resist- “No, I-” A hand grabbed her wrist, and she gasped. Her skin felt like it was on fire. “Charlie.”

He stood behind her, his breath fanning over her neck. “Tell me you haven’t thought about that night, and I’ll stop. I swear to you.” 

“Charlie, we can’t…” 

“Don’t.” He pulled her close. “Have you thought about that night, yes or no?” 

“Yes.” She nodded, turning around to face him. “Every night.”

He smirked, leaning down. “Every night huh?” 

She nodded once more. “Charlie, stop teasing. It’s-” 

He slammed his lips against hers, grabbing her legs and wrapping them around his waist. “Godric, you’re going to be the ruin of me.” 

That had been months ago. She had felt horrible, keeping it a secret from the twins, Ron, and Salazar, Ginny too. She hadn’t told anyone, which could have been why she felt so wracked with guilt. It was odd, she told herself, to be sleeping with her best friend’s older brother. 

But when Charlie held her in his arms, she forgot all about her guilt. Her heart felt full, and she reasoned with herself that Fred and George would be happy for her if she told them. Happy that she finally found someone that cared about her as much as she-

“Love?” Charlie's voice rang through the door. “Can I come in?” 

She yelled back, casting a beauty spell over herself. “It’s open!” Walking out of her bedroom, she smiled shyly at the ginger man, holding hoards of groceries in his arms. He sat them down on the counter, taking each item out and putting them away.

“How was work?” 

She shrugged. “Same as always I suppose. Kingsley told me if I keep it up, I could be one of the youngest team leads in history.” She laughed, helping him put the last of it away. “Except Harry, of course.” 

Charlie nodded. “He’s quite the talented wizard.” Grabbing the vegetables for their salad, he began rinsing them off in the sink. She walked over, wrapping her arms around his torso. He hummed, smiling to himself. “Do you think we should-” She closed her eyes, taking in his rich scent of teakwood and tobacco. “Do you think we should tell my family about us?” 

Her eyes shot open, and she pulled away from him like he was scolding hot. “What?” 

His back tensed, but he didn’t turn around. “Mum’s been asking to meet the girl who’s been taking up all my time.” 

“Well, what did you say?” She walked toward her fridge, grabbing a butterbeer. 

“I said I’d have to ask her.” He turned around, watching anxiously as she refused to make eye contact. “So, what do you say?” 

“Charlie…” 

His voice was small. “Are you- are you embarrassed?” 

“No it’s not…” She sighed. “It’s not that, Charlie. I just-” 

“I’m sorry I brought it up.” He interrupted. “Let’s just go back to making dinner.” 

She nodded, not wanting to break their peace. But as the night went on, she realized their peace had been broken as soon as she said she hadn’t wanted to tell everyone. The air was tense as they ate, the once warm air turned freezing from the distance between them. She cleared her throat, setting down her fork. “I’ve been meaning to bring this up to you.” 

His face looked sullen, but he sat his fork down as well, staring into her eyes. Her heart fluttered, Salazar, he was beautiful. “Yes?” 

“I-” She gulped. “I think we should stop seeing each other.” 

He nodded calmly. “Is there someone else?” 

She shook her head adamantly. “Merlin, no! I just… I think it’s odd. Don’t you?” 

He tilted his head. “What do you think is odd about this?”

“That you and I-” She stuttered. “I’m their best friend.” 

He nodded. “You are.” 

“It feels wrong, lying to them.” 

“Well,” His voice held a frustration she had never heard before. “That is why we'd tell them.” 

“Charlie…” She was getting tired. “It’s not fair to you; me not wanting to tell them. I’m just-” 

“What?” He laughed hurmourlessly. “What are you?”

“You could be out there, finding someone who you could end up…” She blushed. “You know.” 

He stood up, grabbing his things. “I thought that was you.” His eyes looked heartbroken, and she honestly didn’t know why she was doing this to them. Everything was fine, why- “Because you are.” He smiled lightly. “You are that for me.” 

Her eyes started tearing up. “I’m sorry.” 

He shook his head. “It’s alright.” Opening the door, he whispered over his shoulder. “I’ll see you around then.” 

She’d been a mess for weeks. She’d practically shunned everyone from her life, only going to work because she needed money to live. Peeling off her dress robes, a knock echoed through her flat. Odd, she hadn’t had any planned visitors. “One moment.” 

The knocks were never ending, and she rolled her eyes, stalking towards the door. “I said-” The twins stood in front of her. “Oh.” She stiffened. “Hi.” 

They scoffed, George breaking the tension. “You look like a right mess, Williams.” 

Fred nudged him, murmuring. “George…” He smiled at the girl standing in front of them. “You alright love?” 

Her eyes widened. The last time she’d been called love… It was like she couldn’t forget him. She nodded, ushering them in. “Sit, sit.” 

They came in, taking in their surroundings. Fred cleared his throat. “What have you been up to?” 

“Nothing much.” She forced herself to smile. “How’s the shop?” 

George squinted. “We haven’t seen you for three weeks, and you’re asking how the shop is?” He stood closer to her, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. “What happened, love?” 

“I-” Her throat felt as if it was closing. “Nothing. I swear.” 

He shook his head. “Fine, you don’t need to tell us.” He sat down on the couch, Fred following after him. “Mum’s been asking why you haven’t come to dinner lately.” 

She winced. How would she get out of this?

Answer: she wouldn’t. 

Because moments after, they were flooing to the Burrow, Mrs.Weasley wrapping her arms around her. “Where have you been?” 

She blushed, hugging the older witch back. “Work was busy.” She winced as Mrs.Weasley’s unconvinced stare pierced her soul. “I’m sorry.” 

Mrs. Weasley laughed, ushering her inside. “No apologies necessary. Have you been eating? You look frail, dear.” 

“I-” Charlie was in the kitchen, and upon hearing his mother’s voice, turned around. She felt like she could melt. “Weasley.” 

He nodded, his eyes never leaving hers. “Williams.” 

Mrs. Weasley interrupted. “Why don’t you take a seat in the living room dear. I’ll add an extra plate to the table.” 

She nodded. “Thank you Mrs.Weasley.” Scurrying past Charlie, she plopped down on the couch, staring at the ceiling. 

“You’re alive.” A woman’s voice broke through the silence. She turned her head over, smiling at the new presence.

“Hey Gin.” She stood up, hugging her tightly. “I missed you.” 

Ginny hummed. “I missed you too.” Pulling out of the hug, she grabbed her friend's hands in hers. “Tell me what happened between you and Charlie.” 

Her eyes practically fell out of her sockets. “What are you-” 

Ginny glared. “Don’t play dumb with me. He’s been a whiny mess lately, that can’t be coincidence.” 

“There could be a million reasons for why he's whining. You don’t-” Ginny sat down on the couch, pulling her along.

“What did he do?” Ginny whispered. “I’m very skilled at the Bat Bogey Hex.” 

She laughed. “I know you are. Trust me, it wasn’t his fault. I-” She sighed, leaning against the back of the couch. “I thought you’d be upset at me, if you knew I was seeing your brother. Besides, Charlie is sweet, I’m not the right fit for him.” 

A deep voice echoed through the room. “Don’t you think that’s for me to decide?” Ginny’s eyes widened, and Y/N stared back, begging her not to leave. “Could you give us a moment, Gin?” 

She held on to Ginny’s hands as tightly as she could, but Ginny pulled away, murmuring sorry as she raced out of the room, no doubt telling her boyfriend and entire family. So much for secrecy. Taking a deep breath, she stood up, waving casually. “Charlie.” 

“You’re not the right fit?” He scoffed, walking close enough so that he could whisper and only she would hear. “You’re not the right fit, really?” 

“You know what I meant.” 

“I don’t really.” He grabbed her hands in his. “You are what I’ve-” He took a deep breath, most likely gathering the courage to tell her. “You are what I’ve always wanted. What I’ve always dreamt of.” 

She blushed. “Don’t patronize me…” 

“Love…” He tilted his head. “You are everything to me, and it kills me to be apart from you. Really.” 

“I don’t know how the twins would react-” 

“Who cares!” He yelled, quickly remembering he was inside and lowering his voice. “Who cares? I love you and I-” Charlie’s golden eyes widened, and he stuttered. “I mean-” His smile was sure, brighter even. “I love you, and if you love me, then we can make it. Through anything, including my brother’s disapproval.” Pulling her as close as he physically could, he whispered. “I don’t think I can be that separated from you ever again. It was torture, Williams.” He leaned down, their foreheads leaning against each other. “Utter torture.” 

“I love you too-” He pulled her lips to his, kissing her as deep as his body would allow him. She squeaked, melting in his touch. “Charlie, wait just a moment.” He groaned, leaning his head on her shoulder. “I know you could do perfectly fine with your brother’s disapproval, but they’re my best friends. I can’t just… I can’t lose them.” 

He whispered into the crook of her neck, chills running down her spine. “Even if that meant losing me?” 

She kissed his temple, humming. “I’m sorry.” Forcing herself to pull away, she ignored the chills that fell down her spine when Charlie grabbed her wrist, halting her in her tracks.

"I admire it, how fiercly loyal you are to my brothers." He laughed. "Very Gryffindor of you, I must say."

She scoffed, her eyes tearing up ever so slightly. "What can I say? Weasleys are worth protecting."  

The table was tense, Y/N avoiding every attempt Charlie made at eye contact. The twins were suspiciously watching the pair, wondering what exactly was going on. Ginny had surprisingly not told everyone, contrary to Y/N’s belief. Mrs. Weasley tried to make conversation, but she only made the situation worse. “So Charlie, whatever happened to that girl of yours? The one you were sneaking off to see.” 

Y/N looked up from her plate, staring at Charlie. He sighed, taking a sip of water. “She’s busy Mum.” 

Mrs.Weasley nodded, turning her attention to Y/N. “And you dear? How has work been? I hope Kinglsey isn’t giving you too hard of a time.” 

“Work’s been fantastic, thank you Mrs.Weasley. I actually…” She took a deep breath, grinning from ear to ear. “I just got promoted to team lead.” 

The table erupted into well wishes and congratulations. Mrs.Weasley smiled. “That is wonderful dear. You must be the youngest yet.” 

She nodded, giving a pointed look to Harry. “Besides this one, yes.” 

Charlie cleared his throat. “Congratulations, Williams.” 

The table quieted, and Y/N smiled gratefully, daring to make eye contact with him. “Thank you.” 

Ginny coughed, obviously trying to get her attention, but Y/N couldn’t be bothered to break eye contact with him. His eyes were dangerous, she’d determined, and there was a spark in them that was not there earlier. Butterflies erupted in her stomach, and she shook her head slightly. 

He was about to do something neither of them could take back, she knew it. 

She also couldn’t find it in her to care.

Charlie stood, his seat scrapping against the floor. His parents’s eyebrows furrowed. Mr.Weasley spoke first. “Are you alright son?” 

Charlie nodded, still looking at Y/N. “I’m perfect. I-” He smiled. “I have something to say.” 

Mrs. Weasley smiled knowingly. “Spit it out dear.” 

Y/N held her breath, nodding encouragingly. A second wind overtook him, and he stood strong. “I’m in love-” 

Mrs. Weasley grinned. “That’s wonderful dear!” 

Fred and George teased. “Lucky girl, that one.” 

Y/N tried to control her blush. Charlie smiled. “I’m in love with Williams.” 

She looked around the table, trying to gage reactions based off their expressions. Harry, Ron, and Hermione looked positively shocked, and Fred and George… Her eyes widened. They didn’t look shocked in the slightest. Charlie continued. “I don’t want to upset you two, but we-” 

George laughed. “Why would we be upset?” 

Fred nodded. “We’ve known for months.” 

Mrs. Weasley scoffed. “Months? Charlie Weasley, you kept this sweet girl a secret-” 

“That’s actually my fault Mrs.Weasley.” Y/N interjected. “I- I didn’t want to upset the twins.” They pulled faces, rolling their eyes. “Why would we be upset? If anything, we’d be upset at Charlie for corrupting sweet little Y/N/N.” 

Y/N shoved them. “Shut it, both of you.” 

Charlie smiled, sitting back down. “Well I guess that’s settled then.” Y/N smiled back, mouthing the words he so longed to hear. ‘I love you.’ 

Mrs. Weasley sighed, picking at food. “Shall I be expecting more grandchildren anytime soon?” 

Y/N choked on her drink, clutching her chest. Charlie’s eyes widened, cheeks bright red. “Mum!” 

“I’m only asking.” Mrs. Weasley held her hands up in surrender. “Victorie has been so lonely.” 

Charlie tilted his head. “We’re not even married yet, Mum.” He looked over at Y/N, winking. “But that can be arranged.” 

It was Y/N’s turn to scoff. “Charlie Weasley, absolutely not.” 

He stuck his lower lip out, pouting. “What-” 

“Ask me in a year, not before then or after.” She nodded resolutely, taking a sip of her pumpkin juice, ignoring the looks from her friends. 

Charlie nodded, looking much too happy. “Yes ma’am.”

taglist: @beebeechaos

[winterssecrett]

MIDNIGHT TALKS | THEODORE NOTT

ღ 02:00 a.m and the group of snakes was still on the astronomy tower, a place they had started to love when they discovered that professors and prefects never went to “guard” or check for students out of bed. Sleep was something hard to find with how dark and scary things had gotten in school and around the world, so their best option was to be together as a group and as a family.

Astoria was sitting on the floor with Draco’s head on her chest, playing with his blonde platinum hair. Besides her was Blaise, who had Pansy between his legs, hugging her by her waist. And the other three -Theo, Y/n, and Mattheo- were close to the balcony, finishing their cigarettes.

Y/n didn’t smoke much, not as much as her boyfriend, but it was exams week and the stress alongside her anxiety was too much, she needed to take it down a bit.

— I don’t wanna see a fucking book on the rest of my life — Pansy whined, letting out a huff

Draco rolled his eyes — If you pass, you won’t have to.

— can you believe it? In a few months, we won’t be here anymore — Y/n said with a bittersweet tone of voice

Theo nod a that, wrapping his arms around his girlfriend frame. For some reason, he was always looking for her warmth, and since it was so late and so cold, he loved having her close to his body.

— Does it matter? — Draco asked not waiting for an answer — It’s not like things are gonna change, or that we are gonna be able to escape the hell that our lives are.

Clearly the alcohol was working on the blonde, cause otherwise he would have never said something like that. Draco didn’t talk, and definitely not about how sad his life was back at home. All of them, including the whole house of Slytherin were living in the same hell that the dark lord brought, and that’s why no one talked about it, it was easier to pretend that everything was just fine.

— Well, it’s not a surprise. We have been marked and judged since we were kids, like it was our fault the last name that we carry, or the house that we are in — Theo responded with harshness, making her girlfriend frown

Mattheo let out a sigh — We better play our part, right?

He was the most fucked of the group, he was the son of the person that was trying to destroy the magical world for years on end. The silence invaded them and everyone started to get lost in their thoughts, Y/n turned around putting her arms around Theo’s neck.

— Well be fine, right? — she asked in almost a whisper, wondering how bad things were gonna be once they graduated

Theo caressed her cheek — Well be together, that’s all that matters, Bella.

Y/n smiled at him with sadness, they had just a month left of school and they were trying to enjoy as much of it as they could. For example having breakfast together everyday, even if they were dying to sleep a little bit more. Partying from Thursday to Sunday with not just their house, but also the other three. Swimming in the black lake at night, and then going to the kitchen to get cups of hot chocolate.

Just a lot of things to be happy in times of death, darkness, and cruelty.

— I love you, cara mía, you know that right? — He said with a small smile

Y/n smiled back at him — Of course I know, and I love you too, darling.

One of Theo’s hands went to the back of her head and brought her close to his lips, almost melting when he felt her warmth. God how he enjoyed kissing and touching her.

— Get a room you scandalous people!

Everyone laughed at Draco’s slurred words, he was gonna regret all of the fire whiskey he had drunk tomorrow morning.

[evaslytherpuff]

THE BEARDED ONES!!!🥵🥵😍😍 I’m getting Dylan vibes!!!🥰

Our red flag in green 🐍

And couple with beard...

The things I would do to him..

[oldhotcinnam0n]

Happy Sallow Sunday babes 🐍

[slmjaeyuns]

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ jake sim fics that make my heart go pitter patter⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

beautiful pieces of art written for my most beautiful boy

~~ a new, updated fic rec list for the boy who owns my heart because i be reading okay, y’all *cries*

part one / first jake fic rec list here!!

warning: there are suggestive themes/smut that may be embedded throughout the fluff and angst fics as well)! please dni if that makes you uncomfortable!! (jake x afab reader/gn reader) minors dni, please‼️

‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚.

all time favourites ♡

fics contain a combination of genres including fluff, angst, suggestiveness, smut)

♡ rule number 1: don’t fall in love

♡ kiwi and layla

♡ hold me like you always do

♡ 14 steps to a better you

♡ pocky

♡ always

♡ monkey bars (part one)

♡ roman holiday

♡ to all my firsts with you

special ending

♡ you are in love

♡ the set up

♡ midnight rain (back to you)

fluff ❀

❀ cupid

❀ classmate au

❀ chapsticks

❀ 6:17am

❀ our kimchi

❀ sim jaeyun - the one with things that happen in your friendship

❀ i find my paradise

❀ strawberries and cigarettes

❀ that’s how you get the girl

❀ good girl

❀ go ahead*

❀ 21:14*

*ps: my potterhead self (who happens to be a slytherin) was squealing and kicking my feet reading these two likeeeee eeeeeeepp

❀ wait, date?

❀ try again

❀ sunday mornings

❀ 8:30pm

❀ speak now

❀ home = you

❀ in another universe

❀ care and love

❀ is that seat (=are you) taken?

angst ☽

☽ cupid’s mistake

☽ was this shirt always so big?

☽ can you please come over

☽ i’m low on gas and you need a jacket

☽ wish you back

suggestive/smut ☁︎

☁︎ body on me

☁︎ grateful sinners

☁︎ cruel summer

☁︎ two best friends in a room

☁︎ dying to drive but you can’t find the keys

☁︎ coffee and mathematical physics

☁︎ tease

☁︎ how jake kisses you

☁︎ bestfriendsbrother!jake drabble

☁︎ the taste of you

☁︎ he’s yours, but am i?

☁︎ silly competitions

☁︎ prove it

☁︎ focus

☁︎ fwb!jake

☁︎ can i kiss you?

☁︎ take me away

☁︎ forgotten consequences

☁︎ brand new moves

☁︎ help you out

☁︎ addict

☁︎ talk me down

☁︎ for old times sake

☁︎ get off that stupid game

[malfoyscoffee]

message in a bottle ౨ৎ theodore nott

pairing theodore nott x fem!slytherin!reader genre fluff | 1.8k words | friends/fwb to lovers warnings mentions of drinking alcohol, use of y/n song "message in a bottle" — red (taylor's version), taylor swift

YOU WOKE UP IN THEODORE NOTT'S BED, the soft morning light filtering through the curtains of his dorm room. His room was a comfortable mess, with books and clothes scattered around, and the faint scent of cologne lingering in the air.

You sat up stretching, feeling the warmth of the blanket cocooned around you, and glanced at Theodore, who was still half-asleep beside you.

"Y/n, come on, stay a bit longer," Theo mumbled, his voice husky with sleep as he reached out to pull you back into the warmth of the bed. His eyes, heavy with sleep, pleaded with you to stay.

You chuckled softly, shaking your head. "I can't, Theo. It's Sunday so I need to complete my Transfiguration paper."

He groaned, rubbing his eyes as he sat up, his messy hair adding to his disheveled charm. "You always leave early in the morning. Can't you take one day off and cuddle?"

Your heart fluttered at the thought of spending the day wrapped in Theo's arms, but you knew you couldn't afford to slack off. "I wish I could," you replied, swinging your legs over the side of the bed and standing up. "But if I don't finish this paper, McGonagall will have my head."

Theo smirked, watching you as you searched for your shoes amidst the clutter of his room. "You know, most people would kill for an excuse to stay in bed longer. Especially with me."

You rolled your eyes playfully, finally finding your shoes and slipping them on. "Nice try, Nott."

He sighed dramatically, leaning back against his pillows, the morning sunlight casting a golden glow on his features. "Fine. But you're going to Draco's dorm to hang out later, right?"

You smiled, grabbing your robe and heading towards the door. "Of course. I'll see you later, Theo. Try not to miss me too much."

He laughed, throwing a pillow in your direction as you left his room. The cool air of the dungeon corridors greeted you as you made your way back to your own dorm, a contented smile lingering on your lips.

Later that night, all of your friends decided to drink, but after running out of alcohol, you and Mattheo offered to go get some more. Thankfully, the Weasley twins owed you a favor, and they had some leftover liquor from the last Gryffindor party.

Although both of you were tipsy, making the entire journey humorous, you were sober enough to navigate the dark corridors.

"Matt, stop, you're going to wake up the entire floor!" you shushed Mattheo’s laughter as you walked up the stairs to the dorms.

“All right, all right,” Mattheo whispered back, his voice still carrying a hint of amusement. He was holding the crate full of bottles, which were making noises with every lousy step.

As you approached Draco’s dorm, you slowed your steps, Mattheo following suit. The low murmur of voices from inside caught your attention.

“What do you think they're talking about?” you whispered to Mattheo.

Mattheo's eyes gleamed mischievously. “Let's find out.”

You nodded, turning Draco's door knob quietly to open the door. When the door had a small crack, you both inched closer to the hole, trying to listen in without being noticed.

“So, when are you confessing to Y/n?” Blaise's voice rang out, breaking the quietude of the hallway.

“I’m tired of listening to how you're going to ask her out, then never have the guts to actually do it,” Blaise continued, his tone laced with amusement.

The mention of your name made you hold your breath and you felt Mattheo tense from beside you. In your best friend's head, you weren't supposed to find out this way.

“I agree with Blaise,” Lorenzo chimed in. “Just go on and ask her out already.”

Then came Pansy's voice, her tone teasing. “I can't believe you've fallen for your friends with benefits.”

Theodore Nott likes you?

"I heard Diggory is planning on asking her out this week. If you're serious about her, you should make a move before him."

Theodore sat in silence at Draco's comment, the gears in your head turning like clockwork.

You stole a glance at Mattheo, the new information soaking in. He smirked at your clueless face before he stood up straightening his back and had you do the same.

“We’re back with more bottles! Who’s ready to drink more?” Mattheo walked inside the dorm to set the crate down.

You felt yourself sobering up as you stood by the door, still taken back at the new information. Eventually, you stepped in, closing the door behind you, the open spot next to Theodore reserved for you.

When you sat in your old seat, Theodore’s arm snaked around your waist, placing his head on your shoulder. He placed his hand on your thigh, joining in the new topic that your friends were discussing.

The night continued as if nothing had changed, but the knowledge of Theodore's feelings weighed heavily on your mind.

You laughed along with your friends and enjoyed the drinks but you couldn't help calculate to all of Theodore’s touch, as it felt more meaningful.

The next day, you woke up with a knot of nerves in your stomach. You had Potions class with Mattheo, and you were determined to ask him for confirmation about Theodore. You’d had a crush on Theo for years, and the uncertainty was driving you crazy.

As you walked to the dungeons, you noticed the familiar hustle and bustle of students making their way to class. The cool air and the stone walls of Hogwarts offered little comfort as you navigated through the corridors, your thoughts consumed by the conversation from last night.

When you entered the classroom, you spotted Mattheo setting up your workstation. He glanced up and offered you a small smile, but you could tell that he sensed something was bothering you.

Professor Snape swept into the room, his presence commanding attention. "Today, you will be brewing Veritaserum," he announced, his voice cutting through the quiet chatter of the students.

After a brief reminder of when the potion was due, the classroom erupted into activity as students gathered ingredients and prepared their cauldrons.

You and Mattheo worked side by side, but your mind was elsewhere, the events from last night playing on a loop in your head.

About halfway through the class, as you waited for a potion to simmer, the room filled with the low hum of conversations. Seizing the opportunity, you turned to Mattheo, the anticipation of the previous night's revelations still weighing heavily on your mind.

"Matt," you began quietly, your voice barely above a whisper, the words feeling heavy on your tongue. You glanced around to make sure no one else was listening, the tension palpable in the air.

"What's up, Y/n?" Mattheo replied, his voice barely audible over the gentle bubbling of the cauldrons. He looked at you expectantly, his eyes filled with curiosity.

"Last night, when we overheard the conversation in Draco's dorm... about Theo," you said, the words tumbling out in a rush, the weight of the revelation pressing down on you.

Mattheo's face softened, a knowing look in his eyes as he nodded in understanding. "Yeah, it's true. Theo's fancied you for a while now. You weren’t supposed to find out that way, he’s been wanting to confess. He just hasn't had the guts to say anything."

You sighed in relief and frustration, the words hanging in the air like a heavy fog. "I really like him too, but I don't know what to do. I feel like I'm just waiting for him to make a move but it’ll take forever."

Mattheo smiled sympathetically, his expression filled with understanding. "Sometimes, you just have to be patient. Theo will come around. He's just... not good at expressing his feelings."

His words offered some comfort and you forced yourself to focus on the potion in front of you, but your mind was still consumed by thoughts of Theodore.

After classes finished, you were sitting by the Black Lake, enjoying the warm weather and the rare moment of peace. The sky was clear, and the gentle breeze made the day perfect for a relaxing break.

You noticed Cedric Diggory standing nearby, looking like he wanted to approach you. He caught your eye and walked over with a friendly smile.

"Hey, Y/n," he greeted, standing beside you. "I've been meaning to ask you something." You smiled back, though your mind instantly recalled Draco's words the other night

"What's up, Cedric?"

"Well," Cedric began, rubbing the back of his neck, "I was wondering if you'd like to go to Hogsmeade with me this weekend?"

From a distance, Theodore saw you talking to Cedric. His heart sank as he saw Cedric leaning in, seemingly asking you something important.

He couldn't hear the conversation, but he could see the serious expressions on both of your faces. Panic surged through him as he rushed over, hoping it wasn’t too late.

Theodore left Pansy and Draco's side, their faces confused at his sudden departure. It was when they saw that you were with Cedric, that the two smirked with knowing looks.

As Theodore got closer, Cedric smiled at you one last time before walking away, leaving you alone. Theodore reached you just as Cedric was disappearing from view.

"Y/n," Theo said, slightly out of breath, "Can I talk to you for a second?" You looked up at him, your heart skipping a beat.

"Of course, Theo." He took a deep breath, gathering his courage. "I saw you talking to Cedric, and I don't know if I'm too late but I need to tell you something. I’ve fancied you for a long time, and I’ve been too scared to say anything. I know we're already seeing each other for other reasons, but I fell for you hard."

You couldn’t help but laugh softly, causing Theo to look at you in confusion.

"What's so funny?" You shook your head, a smile playing on your lips.

"Theo, I overheard everything last night. I know that you like me. And just now, when Cedric asked me out, I told him I fancied someone else."

Theodore’s eyes widened in surprise. "You did? Who?" You took a step closer, your eyes meeting his with a warmth that made his heart race.

"It’s you, Theo. I’ve been waiting for you to finally ask me out." A look of relief and joy spread across Theodore’s face.

"Really? You like me?" You nodded, smiling up at him.

"Yes, really." He let out a breath he seemed to have been holding.

"So, how about we make this the start of something new? No more friends with benefits, but an actual relationship?" You squeezed his hands, feeling the warmth and sincerity in his words.

"I’d like that very much." As you both sat down by the lake, hand in hand, you realized that the waiting was over.

Your message has been received.

[moon-child-goddess]

Stay

Mattheo X Fem Gryffindor reader

Summary: After a night together, reader goes on with her life thinking that’s what playboy Mattheo wants.  

Warnings: Mentions of sexual content, all characters are 18 plus, mentions of drinking, mentions of longish hair (Like enough to be thrown over a shoulder),

A/N: Guys I have no idea what this is. I am hormonal and can’t function lmao. There is so much kissing for such a short thing... Anyway enjoy.

A warm hand rested around my waist, holding me close. Under any other circumstance, it might have felt reassuring— but not this. No not this.

“Stay.” He had murmured before drifting off to sleep. His voice had been low and soft. But I couldn't. There was no way he could have meant it.

Mattheo’s grip was loose, just light enough that I could slip out without waking him. As carefully as I could I lifted his arm and wiggled away from him. I squeezed my eyes when he squirmed, but he moved to lay on his back taking his hand with him.

I perched on the edge of the bed, fumbling with the clasp of my bra. One of the bands was twisted. I didn’t have the energy to fix it. It didn’t matter anyway. I just needed to get out of here.

Mattheo was sprawled out on his side of the bed, utterly peaceful, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. Soft snores escaped him. He looked so serene. The scowl he usually wore was gone.

This was such a mistake. A Gryffindor hooking up with a Slytherin? We were supposed to be enemies. It was a drunken mistake. That’s right this was all just a slightly drunken mistake. Even though we both maybe had one drink a piece so I don’t know how drunk I could claim we were. No matter how many stolen glances we’d shared across the Great Hall, no matter how often I’d caught myself wondering what it would be like to touch him, this wasn’t supposed to happen.

I wasn’t even entirely sure how we’d ended up here. One moment we were at that Hufflepuff party, and the next... his room.

The room was dim, lit only by the faint flicker of a few candles. Finding my clothes in the murky lighting felt impossible.  I crawled on my hands and knees patting the floor for my silky dress. When I did find it I threw the thing on inside out.

I needed to get out of here before he woke up. My shoes were scattered one by the dresser and the other at the edge of the bed. Grabbing them both, I padded softly to the exit.

The door wasn’t budging, it seemed to be stuck in the doorway. I had to put some force behind my yanking to get it to move. I sucked in a sharp breath, wincing at the faint creak that broke the silence.  

I glanced back one last time. Mattheo hadn’t stirred. He was still sound asleep; the soft snores had stopped.

This was for the best. He would ignore me come Monday, just like he did with all the others. Mattheo hooked up with half the girls at Hogwarts. Ok, that was an exaggeration, but still it was a fair amount. I was just another notch in his belt.

The stone floor of the castle was cold as I ran to my room.

Saturday morning, Mattheo spent all of breakfast glaring at me. His sharp gaze burned holes into me, making my skin prickle with unease. I tried to ignore him. But it was nerve wrecking. Was he mad that he slept with me the enemy? Maybe he saw it as a mistake, just like I thought he would.  I didn’t regret it and was willing to move on from it. We were humans with needs, and we gave into those needs. It was ok.

Maybe we should have stayed one-sided longing. That would have been way simpler. I expected for him to be colder during Herbology tomorrow. And since he was my desk mate that thought made my stomach churn.

By Sunday night, I was heading back to my common room when something soft hit me in the face. I caught it instinctively. It was my cardigan I must have forgotten it in Mattheo’s room.

I turned to see him leaning casually against the wall a nonchalant look on his face. But there was tension in his shoulder betraying his calm persona.

“Why did you throw this at me?” I asked, slipping it over the dress I was wearing.

The thing smelled like him.

“Why did you leave?”  His voice was tight, and jaw clenched like he was trying to keep himself under control.

“I figured you would want me gone in the morning,” I avoided his gaze “Act like it never happened.”

“Why?” he pressed.

“Because I know your reputation.” I muttered shrugging before adding. “I Know how you are.”

His gaze hardened. Without any warning he grabbed my wrist, pulling me closer.

 “And what is it you think you know, then?” His voice was calm, but the tension in his words rippled through the air.

I sighed narrowing my eyes at him. I had no idea what he was up to.

“I know enough. Enough to know how this goes.”

I yanked my wrist free, but he took a deliberate step forward. Closing the gap, I tried to make between us.

“Enough?”

“You only sleep with girls once and want them gone as soon as possible,” I whispered. “So, I left. Its ok everyone has needs, and their boundaries. I knew that before we ended up in your bed.”

A smirk tugged at Mattheo’s lips; it didn’t reach his eyes. He tilted his head, his brown eyes studying me with a mix of amusement and frustration.

“Is that so? I just toss people aside?” He raised an eyebrow. “You really don’t know me at all, do you?”

“You don’t keep people around,” I snapped, my voice rising. “You just use them, then forget about them.”

I sounded like a jealous girlfriend. And that was the last thing I was. I knew how he was and respected that, and I wasn’t about to cling on to a boy who didn’t care. So, what the hell was his problem. Most guys would be content with my actions.

 “Maybe you’ve got it all wrong,” he said quietly, his tone soft. “Maybe... I don’t want you to be just another girl.”

I stiffened. “I have never seen you with the same girl twice. Like I said it’s fine.”

Mattheo’s lips pressed into a tight line as he stared at me, his expression unreadable. We stared at each other in silence for what must have been a minute. I rolled my eyes and turned to leave. This conversation was going nowhere. His hand caught my wrist again, halting my steps.

“You can pretend to know me all you want, but I don’t think you do. Because I don’t let go of what I want. And right now... I want you.”  he murmured against the shell of my ear, his voice a low growl.

“We are supposed to be enemies.” I whispered staring at the brick wall in front of me.

His fingers danced lightly across my neck, brushing my hair over to one shoulder. “I suppose we are.” He leaned in.

I gasped softly when he pressed his lips against my neck, warm and deliberate. He was playing dirty, and he knew it. “You are a Slytherin, and I am a Gryffin-“

My words dissolved into a sharp intake of breath when his teeth grazed my sensitive skin. My pulse began to quicken.

“Semantics.”  He muttered.

He trailed kisses up and down the curve of my neck, each one more calculated then the last, as if he knew exactly how to unravel me. My eyes fluttered shut and I tilted my head giving him more access.

“You stubborn girl.”  he whispered against my pulse, before placing another kiss. “I said I don’t want you to be just another girl”

“Mattheo.” I breathed out.

My words died on my lips when he nipped at my skin. I almost let out a moan.

I leaned back into him, feeling one of his arms snaking around my stomach, pulling me flush against his chest. I heard an atta girl murmured so low. His lips ghosted over my shoulder as he shifted my sweater aside, placing tender kisses on the exposed skin.

He knew he had me.

His hand tilted my face slightly, forcing me to meet his gaze from the side. His fingers brushed lightly along my jawline, sending shivers through me.

“Do you want me?”

It was such a simple question, with a heavy answer.

“I think so.” I mumbled, a blush rising on my cheeks.

A cheeky smile tugged at his lips. “Then its settled.”

Before I could ask what, he meant, his lips met mine. The angle was awkward, but the kiss was nothing short of intoxicating. It was hungry and passionate. Very different from the kiss we shared Friday. It left me breathless.

When he pulled away the arm still across my stomach spun me, so I was facing him. Mattheo rested his forehead against mine, his hands settling on my hips. The air between us was still charged. His eyes searched mine, as though he was trying to say something he couldn’t find the words for.

“Mattheo.” I said once I caught my breath. “What happens now?”

His lips quirked into the faintest of smiles, though his gaze remained serious. “That depends on you, I’ve already decided what I want.”

I swallowed hard, pulling my head back. This wasn’t supposed to happen—not like this. We weren’t supposed to be here, tangled together like we belonged.

“But we’re...” I trailed off, unable to finish the sentence. I was sounding like a robot.

“House Enemies?” he asked, a flicker of amusement crossing his face. “You think that matters? You think I care about some stupid rivalry when it’s you I can’t stop thinking about?”

My breath hitched, and he took that moment to tilt my chin, forcing me to meet his gaze.

“You want this too,” he said, his voice assertive. “I know you do. So, stop running, stop overthinking, and just—”

He paused, his thumb brushing my cheek. “Stay.”

An ok was all I could muster.

His expression softened. A flicker of relief crossed his face, so fleeting that if I blinked, I might have missed it.

“Okay?” he repeated in a teasing whisper.

I nodded, my hands instinctively finding their way to his chest. His heart was pounding just as wildly as mine, a steady rhythm beneath my fingertips.

Then, slowly, he closed the gap between us, his lips brushing mine again with a tenderness that stole the air from my lungs instantly. This kiss was careful, deliberate.

When he pulled back, his hands still cradled my face. “We’ll figure it out. One step at a time.”

I wanted to believe him. But the part of me that always played it safe knew that this wasn’t going to be easy.

“Mattheo,” I said hesitantly. “What if this doesn’t work?”

His lips quirked into a smirk, though his eyes held a warmth that made my chest ache. “It’ll work,” he said simply. “Because I’m not letting you go. Not now. Not ever.”

The conviction in his words sent a shiver down my spine, and before I could respond with doubt, he kissed me again, this time with a hunger that made my knees weak.

“Is this going to be your solution for everything? Kiss me every time I hesitate?” I asked when he pulled away.

Mattheo’s hand slid down to intertwine with mine, his thumb brushing soothing circles against my skin.

“Yes, because you can’t tell me you don’t feel we are right for each other.”

I bit my lip and sent him a shy smile.

“Come on,” he said, his voice lighter now, almost teasing. “Let’s get you back to your common room before you change your mind and start overthinking again.”

I laughed softly despite myself, shaking my head. “You’re insane.”

“And you’re stubborn,” he shot back, grinning. “Guess we make a good match, don’t we?”