#hogmarch challenge

[thatdammchickennugget]

Just My Luck

pairing - james potter x fem!reader

summary - you get stuck in a shed with your quidditch captain

warnings - gryffindor!reader, quidditch player!reader, kinda grumpy x sunshine vibes

a/n - week one of hogmarch! using the dialogue prompt "if we're stuck here, we might as well make the best of it"

wordcount - 2.3k

The last thing you wanted was to be stuck alone with James bloody Potter.

And yet, here you were.

It had been a long, grueling practice, made worse by the fact that you were forced to take orders from James—James of all people—because he was Captain now, and you weren’t. You were still bitter about it, still fuming over the decision McGonagall had made at the start of the season.

Not that you had wanted to be Captain, necessarily. But if anyone deserved it, it was you. You had been on the team since second year, worked your ass off every season, knew how to run drills better than anyone. And yet, somehow, James—show-off, golden boy, bloody Potter—had been the one to get the title.

And of course, he was obnoxiously good at it.

You huffed under your breath, gripping the heavy crate of practice Bludgers tighter as you trudged toward the equipment shed.

James was beside you, carrying the other half, his usual, infuriating grin still plastered across his face despite having spent the last two hours barking orders at the team.

“Y’know,” he said, effortlessly adjusting his grip like the crate weighed nothing, “if you weren’t so busy glaring at me during practice, maybe you’d actually manage to listen to the strategy I was explaining.”

You shot him a glare that could have set his broom on fire. “Oh, sorry, Captain. Next time I’ll be sure to hang onto every brilliant word that comes out of your mouth.”

James just laughed, completely unaffected, his hazel eyes bright with amusement. “That’s all I ask.”

You groaned, shaking your head as you reached the shed. He had this way of getting under your skin—like an annoying little itch you couldn’t scratch. It wasn’t just the fact that he was a talented player or a natural leader or that he made Quidditch look so damn easy.

No. It was the fact that he knew all of this, and he enjoyed pushing your buttons about it.

The two of you set the crate down inside the shed, the worn wood creaking under the weight. You turned to grab the last few Quaffles, and James, ever the show-off, tossed his into the storage bin without even looking.

“That was luck,” you muttered.

James smirked. “That was skill, darling.”

You rolled your eyes, about to retort, when—

Click.

The sound was so quiet that it almost didn’t register. It wasn’t until you turned back toward the door, reaching to grab another broom, that you realized it had swung shut behind you.

You frowned.

James frowned too, as if the same realization was dawning on him at the exact same moment.

Slowly, you reached for the handle and twisted it.

It didn’t budge.

You twisted harder.

Still nothing.

There was a beat of silence.

James blinked. “Did you just—?”

“It’s locked,” you said flatly.

James let out a nervous chuckle. “That’s funny.”

You turned to face him, arms crossed. “Yeah. Hilarious.”

Another pause.

Then—like the absolute idiot that he was—James reached for the door handle himself, as if that would make a difference. He twisted. Pushed. Pulled.

Nothing.

He let out a sheepish cough. “Okay. So it’s… properly locked.”

You stared at him, unamused. “Brilliant deduction, Potter.”

“Well, no need to panic. Just grab your wand and—”

You narrowed your eyes at him.

James stopped.

You saw it—the exact second he realized.

“No,” he said, his voice dropping into something close to horror. “No, no, no—tell me you have your wand.”

You didn’t answer.

“Tell me one of us brought their wand.”

Silence.

His face fell.

“Oh, bloody hell,” he groaned, running a hand through his already-messy hair.

You let out a slow breath, pinching the bridge of your nose. “We left them in the locker room.”

“Because Quidditch robes don’t have pockets,” he finished, nodding grimly.

More silence.

Then, James turned to you, a half-smile tugging at his lips. “I mean… at least we have each other?”

You deadpanned. “I’m going to kill you.”

His grin widened. “That would be counterproductive.”

You groaned, slumping against the wall of the shed. “This is your fault.”

James raised his eyebrows. “My fault?”

“You’re the Captain. That makes everything automatically your fault.”

He scoffed. “That’s not how it works.”

“Well, I wouldn’t know, because I’m not Captain.”

James let out a dramatic sigh. “Are you still salty about that?”

You glared at him. “I hope someone finds us in here tomorrow.”

James just laughed.

And, Merlin help you, you hated how much you liked the sound of it.

Because for all your irritation, for all your sharp words and glares and gritted teeth… you didn’t actually hate James Potter. Not even a little.

And that was the real problem.

James stretched his arms behind his head, utterly unconcerned about the fact that you were well and truly stuck. You, on the other hand, were pacing a tight line along the cramped space of the shed, trying to think of a way out.

“Maybe if we both threw our weight against the door at the same time, we could—”

“Shatter the entire thing?” James cut in, amused. “Brilliant idea. McGonagall would love that one.”

You whirled on him, scowling. “You got a better plan, Captain?”

James, to his credit, pretended to think about it. “Not really. But if we are stuck here, we might as well make the most of it.”

You gave him a deeply unimpressed look. “And how exactly do you suggest we do that?”

James smirked, leaning lazily against the wall like this was all just a minor inconvenience, like you weren’t actually trapped inside a tiny wooden shed with only old broomsticks and deflated Quaffles for company. “Well,” he said, voice infuriatingly casual, “we could always sit and have a nice chat.”

You let out an exaggerated groan. “I’d rather take my chances with the door.”

“Come on,” James said, tilting his head at you. “I’m trying to be civil.”

You shot him a glare but begrudgingly slumped against the opposite wall, arms crossed.

“Alright, since you’re so interested in chatting,” you said, voice thick with sarcasm, “why don’t you enlighten me? What is it, exactly, that makes you so insufferable?”

James laughed, bright and easy. “Dunno. It’s a talent, I suppose.”

You rolled your eyes. “You would think that.”

He grinned, looking far too pleased with himself. But then, to your surprise, the amusement in his expression softened just a fraction.

“Alright,” he said, a little more serious now. “Your turn. What is it, exactly, that makes you so mad at me?”

You scoffed. “Oh, where to begin?”

James just raised his eyebrows, waiting.

You hesitated.

Because, really—what was it?

What was it that made your blood boil every time he smirked at you? What was it that made you grind your teeth when he swooped past you on his broom, looking like some Quidditch poster boy? What was it that made you so incredibly bitter about him being Captain, when, deep down, you knew he was actually pretty damn good at it?

You cleared your throat, shifting uncomfortably. “You’re just… you,” you said finally, though even you knew it was a weak answer.

James hummed. “Right. And that means…?”

“You’re arrogant. You’re annoying. You think you’re the greatest thing to ever happen to Quidditch.”

He grinned. “I am the greatest thing to ever happen to Quidditch.”

You gave him a look. “See? That. That right there.”

James laughed, but his hazel eyes stayed fixed on you, sharp and searching, like he was seeing something beyond your words. Like he knew there was more to it.

And the worst part? He wasn’t wrong.

James leaned in slightly, his grin never faltering. “You know, I think you secretly like it.”

You snorted. “Like what?”

“The way I get under your skin.” He tilted his head, watching you closely, like he was trying to read you. “The way I push your buttons.”

Your stomach did an annoying little flip. You ignored it. “Oh, please.”

James smirked. “You wouldn’t glare at me so much if you didn’t care.”

A silence stretched between you, not quite tense but not entirely comfortable either. The shed was small—too small—and now that you weren’t moving around, you were painfully aware of how close the two of you were.

James must have noticed it too, because his smirk softened, something flickering in his hazel eyes. “Listen,” he said, a little quieter, “if this is about Quidditch—about me being Captain—I didn’t take it to spite you.”

You frowned. “I never said you did.”

James gave you a knowing look. “You didn’t have to.”

You looked away. Because, maybe he had a point.

Maybe it wasn’t just about the title. Maybe it was the fact that when McGonagall had announced James as Captain, your heart had twisted in a way you hadn’t expected. Because you had worked so hard, and yet—James had gotten it without even breaking a sweat. Like everything else.

And maybe it stung because James—golden, charming, ridiculously talented James—had always been just one step ahead of you.

You exhaled, crossing your arms tightly. “I know you didn’t take it to spite me,” you admitted, voice quieter than before. “It’s just… frustrating.”

James watched you, something unreadable in his gaze. Then, after a beat, his mouth curved into a slow, lopsided smile.

“Y’know,” he said, voice teasing but warm, “for what it’s worth? You’d make a bloody brilliant Captain.”

Your breath hitched slightly, but you masked it with a scoff. “Yeah, yeah. Flattery’s not gonna get us out of here, Potter.”

James grinned. “No, but it might make you like me a little more.”

You rolled your eyes. But this time, it was harder to fight the smile tugging at your lips.

James must have noticed the way your mouth twitched because his grin widened. “Was that a smile?”

You scowled on instinct. “No.”

His eyes sparkled. “It was.”

“It was not.”

James hummed, looking insufferably pleased with himself. “It’s alright, you know. You can admit it. You like me.”

You scoffed, leaning your head back against the wooden wall with a dramatic sigh. “Being trapped in a storage shed with you has made me delirious, that’s all.”

James chuckled, and for once, it wasn’t the teasing, self-satisfied kind of laugh that usually made you want to throw a Bludger at his head. It was softer. Warmer.

And that was almost worse.

Because James Potter was supposed to be arrogant and annoying and completely, utterly insufferable. He wasn’t supposed to look at you like that—like he actually wanted to understand you. Like he wasn’t just playing a game.

You exhaled, shifting slightly where you sat. “I do take Quidditch seriously, you know.”

James tilted his head. “I know you do.”

“I don’t just get annoyed at you for the sake of it.”

“Well,” James said, smirking, “maybe a little.”

You rolled your eyes. “I just—Quidditch is the one thing I’ve always been really good at. And then you come along, and you’re just… better.” You hadn’t meant to say that last part out loud.

James blinked. “Wait—do you actually think that?”

Heat rose to your cheeks. “I—shut up.”

James stared at you like you had just told him the sky was green. “You think I’m better than you?”

You groaned, covering your face with your hands. “Forget I said anything.”

“Not a chance,” James said, still looking mildly offended. “You’re one of the best players I’ve ever seen. I mean it.”

You peeked at him through your fingers, skeptical. “Even better than you?”

James grinned. “Obviously not.”

You let out a strangled laugh, shoving his shoulder lightly. “Git.”

James just laughed, but then his expression softened. “You know I admire you, right?”

You blinked. “What?”

James shrugged, like he hadn’t just casually thrown that out there. “You work harder than anyone. You make plays even I wouldn’t think of. And you never back down from a challenge. It’s kind of impressive.”

Your throat felt oddly tight. “Oh.”

James smiled. “And a little terrifying.”

You snorted, shaking your head. “Good.”

A comfortable silence settled between you. The shed was still small, still cold, still locked. But somehow, it didn’t feel quite as unbearable anymore.

James shifted, bumping his knee against yours. “For what it’s worth, I don’t think McGonagall gave me Captain because I’m better. I think she gave it to me because I’m loud and she wanted me to yell at people so she wouldn’t have to.”

You laughed. “That does sound like her.”

James grinned. “And you would’ve been a nightmare. Can you imagine? You’d have us all doing drills in our sleep.”

You raised an eyebrow. “And you don’t?”

“Fair point.”

Another pause. Then James nudged you again, his voice quieter this time. “Hey.”

You glanced at him.

His hazel eyes were even softer now, searching. “I really don’t want you to hate me.”

You swallowed. “I don’t.”

He held your gaze, like he was waiting for you to take it back. But you didn’t.

And then, before you could talk yourself out of it, you leaned your head against his shoulder. Just for a second.

James stilled. You could hear his breath catch, just slightly, before he let it out. Then, slowly—hesitantly—he leaned his head against yours.

You sighed, closing your eyes. “If you tell anyone about this, I will deny it.”

James chuckled, quiet and warm. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

And for some odd reason, you almost didn’t mind being stuck with him.

Masterlist

Requesting Guidelines

[papercorgiworld]

"I'm not sorry"

Mattheo Riddle x Nott!reader

A game of spin the bottle with your brother’s best friend, what could possibly go wrong? 

I’m sorry I missed the deadline of Hogmarch’s first week by a day, but I battled a migraine to finish this today so that’s gotta count for something right, right? Anyways, I was so happy when I saw the Hogmarch post because it instantaneously gave me inspiration! A big thanks to @thatdammchickennugget , hogmarch is amazing and so are you! 💛

Happy readings everyone and good vibes for the new week!

Theodore Nott was a rather mysterious character at Hogwarts, but one thing was very clear to everyone that knew him. His sister was off limits. 

Mattheo considered Theo one of his closest friends. The astronomy tower and the night sky had heard many of their calmly shared secrets. Theo liked to talk about how lonely he found Hogwarts and Mattheo carelessly ranted about his anger towards everyone’s judgement of him.

But despite Mattheo’s friendship with Theo, he had been struggling to respect his one rule. You had always been on his mind, but you seemed out of reach and that made it possible for Mattheo to keep any thoughts of you buried. However, last summer when he stayed at Nott manor you had literally snuck up on him. 

Theo and Blaise had had one drink too many and had fallen asleep. Leaving Mattheo alone, standing at the balcony of Theo’s room. You had conveniently flown by, hoping to catch a glimpse of Mattheo, but instead you had found him all by himself. “Hi stranger.” You whispered, making Mattheo spin around. 

It was that evening of talking and giggling that took over Mattheo’s mind when he saw you settle down with your friends for a game of spin the bottle. Your brother had disappeared with a beautiful girl and he probably wouldn’t be returning any time soon. Mattheo weighed his options. Should he? 

Well, she’s set on playing the game anyway and if she’s going to kiss someone tonight, it might as well be me. 

Of course Mattheo wasn’t going to leave anything to chance. The bottle was enchanted even before he sat down in the circle. You had a suspicion when Mattheo gave you a lobbed smile. Trademark Slytherin Trouble. 

You nervously watched as Pansy gave the bottle a spin. You could feel your face heat up as Mattheo’s eyes kept finding yours. You missed Pansy’s blush when the bottle landed on Blaise Zabini, because you were too busy wondering if you would get a chance to kiss Mattheo. Surely your brother couldn’t be angry about a simple game of spin the bottle. 

Mattheo eagerly reached for the bottle, claiming this turn. His eyes once again moving to you right before he spun the bottle made it clear to everyone in the circle that Mattheo’s intentions were set on you.

However, to everyone’s surprise there was no worry to be detected in your eyes, but rather a hint of anticipation. 

By the time the bottle had magically landed on you, both of you were too occupied with each other to notice Theodore calmly watching with his arms crossed. Surely, Matt knew to not try anything funny. If it was Enzo, then Theo would’ve already intervened. But Mattheo, he trusted. Theo was confident that Mattheo would give his little sister a peck on the cheek and say something witty to blow off any comments from bystanders. 

You both crawled over to each other, meeting in the middle of the circle, and to your brother’s horror Mattheo’s hand went to the back of your head as he pulled you in for a long and passionate kiss. A kiss that you didn’t want to ever end, so you softly bit his lip, lengthening the kiss by just a few seconds.

Enzo who had seen Theo walk in, just as the game of spin the bottle became very heated, ignored the flirty girl in front of him and gave Blaise, who now sat next to him with Pansy, a shove. “This is bad.” Blaise turns just in time to see Theo pull Mattheo from the circle. “Theo, no!” Your protest echoes through the common room as your brother’s fist hits Mattheo’s nose.

“No, no, no, no.” You protest as you get up, reaching to push yourself between the two. But Blaise, always quick to react, pulls Theo away and puts some distance between him and Mattheo with one forceful shove. 

“Calm down T, it’s just a game.” Blaise barks, while using all his strength and weight to keep Theo back. Blaise hopes that the doubt he feels about his argument was not heard in his voice or seen in his eyes, because he had been worried for a while now that Mattheo struggled to keep his eyes off you. 

“Game or not! Paws of my sister, Riddle!” Theo spits with a venomous growl as he swung an angry arm out, still held back by Blaise.

“Or what?” Mattheo’s voice wasn’t just angry, it was cold and dark. Within the blink of an eye you saw Mattheo’s wand pointed at your brother and Blaise who was still holding him back. Mattheo’s hand didn't shake, he was radiating confidence as he patiently waited for your brother to give the wrong answer.

This time you did intervene and without hesitation despite your fear. Mattheo tried to stay away from his family’s habits as much as possible, but he was and would always be a Riddle when it came down to it. 

“Matt, it’s Theo.” Your eyes carried so much pain in them for having to remind Mattheo who he was threatening: his friend, your brother and the guy who had stood by him more than any other. 

But your words didn’t register, not until you laid your hand on his stretched arm. His eyes flickered to you, his jaw still clenched. Slowly he lowered his wand and it was like the room could breathe again. 

Blaise could finally let go of Theo, since he had calmed down to the point where his breathing was steadying but his furious eyes were still focused on Mattheo.

Draco, whose eyes watched Theo carefully to assess exactly how explosive the situation still was, handed Mattheo a handkerchief. “Go clean up.” He said to Mattheo, getting Mattheo out of the room with a good excuse seemed like the best way to defuse the tension. 

Without a word or any emotion to you, Mattheo left. He disappeared in the crowd that had looked on and would surely gossip about this for weeks. Salazar, I hate this place.

The bleeding had stopped but he still looked crappy when he arrived at the astronomy tower. When Mattheo saw his brother there, he sighed and rolled his eyes. The urge to turn around was there, but he had no place to go. Tom looked from the corner of his eyes, not amused either that he had a visitor on this quiet night, but he immediately turns to his younger brother when he notices the blood.

After a moment of silence, Tom takes a last drag from his cigarette and speaks up calmly. “Care to explain the blood?” Mattheo, now seated on the ground leaning against a wall and watching the stars, simply shrugs. Tom turns back to the night view and glances with annoyance when there’s no response. 

“I kissed (y/n).” Mattheo sighs, disappointed with himself for betraying Theo and disappointed with Theo for not seeing that this could be a good thing. Tom has a pleased smirk on his face as he turns his head to his brother. Why does he always do reckless things like this?  “Was it worth it?” Mattheo is caught off guard by this question, but he immediately knows the answer. “Yeah.” Mattheo’s voice is soft, showing the vulnerability and softness that he usually hides from everyone. 

Tom flicks his cigarette bud into the distance and heads for the stairs, but not before stopping where his brother is sitting to give some brotherly advice. “Make sure she knows that and make sure he knows as well.”

Mattheo thinks over his brother's words as he hears his footsteps fade away, but before they have fully faded they stop. “Yeah, he’s up there.” Mattheo’s hard starts racing as his brother’s steps fade but new ones approach.

“Matt!” The relief when you see Mattheo makes your eyes a little watery. You sit down next to him, a gentle hand strokes his face. “I’m so sorry about this. I-” A heartfelt kiss interrupts you, but you don’t mind. You can taste the longing and you love it. How badly you have been wanting Mattheo to long for you, to feel his passion and now it was even better than you had imagined. 

When Mattheo finally parts your eyes are dreamy and his are gentle. “I’m not sorry, (y/n).” He whispers, his voice raspy. 

With those words all your worries disappear and your lips meet his again. You move closer to him until you have him startled between your legs. “Me neither.” You half whisper, half moan between kisses.

[pizzaapeteer]

𝘽𝙧𝙤𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧'𝙨 𝘽𝙚𝙨𝙩 𝙁𝙧𝙞𝙚𝙣𝙙

An: Hello, it's been a while, but I finally got a burst of inspiration in light of @thatdammchickennugget's hogmarch challenge. I used the prompt 'or is it because you're not in love with me?' almost 3k Mattheo x fem!reader, fluff, with a hint of lewd thoughts

He knew you were off limits, a line he wasn't supposed to cross. She was A forbidden desire, and maybe that’s what made him want her so badly. Despite these feelings, ones that he couldn’t seem to suppress, Mattheo knew it would never end well if his best friend Theo found out he’d developed a crush on his bloody sister. He’d sure have him thrown off the astronomy tower before he could even so much as utter a word of apology. 

But how could he not, when she was always around, always taking up room in his head. Although she was a year younger than Mattheo and the others, she shared a close bond with her brother. Meaning she spent a majority of her time cooped up in Theo’s shared dorm. She fitted in so well, always making the group laugh, leaving Mattheo often with sore cheeks after spending time with her.

It’s not like Mattheo would ever act on these emotions, doubting she even thought about him past another brother-like figure. He cared for his relationship with Theo too much to do anything stupid. Though the temptations were there, whenever she would ask him a question, the sound of her voice like honey setting the butterflies in his stomach on a rampage to where he felt sick. Her smile was so captivating, drawing his attention towards her even on the gloomiest days.

Even away from her, his mind was constantly consumed by thoughts of her. He’d sit at home, running his hands through his hair. It was fucking him up. Doing his best to keep his feelings to himself, always aware of Theo’s eyes on him supervising. His threat constantly on repetition in his head, “If you ever even look at her past platonic, I’ll feed you to a horntail dragon”. His words drive him to act nonchalant around her, treating her like one of the boys. Like a friend who he had absolutely no interest in

Little did Mattheo know, Theo had repeated the near-to-the same speech to her. Theo knew what his friends were like, and while he appreciated the close relationship his sister shared with them, he didn’t want to see her get hurt. His protectiveness for her blinded his view on the way Mattheo seemed to truly care for her.

She, on the other hand, had assured her brother that he needed not to worry. Though she didn’t admit it to Theo, she was convinced Mattheo only saw her as his best friend's sister. His demeanour had always been apathetic, showing no other interest in her other than a friend. She was good at hiding her true feelings, but her heart felt contused, hating how he’d deftly crawled his way in. He’d probably done it to countless girls before her, and that fact stung her deeply. That was the hardest part about being around him, knowing she couldn't have him, and he'd never want her. 

It was currently Friday evening. The classic group of your brother's friends had been lounging in his dorm before you had challenged everyone, to who could create the best muggle fort. The room filled with tipsy laughter, everyone having passed around the fire whiskey Enzo and Blaise had sneaked in. The group was divided into two, with you being partnered with Blaise and Theo.

You had thought the three of you were doing well despite your disadvantage of one man down, Mattheo's absence due to another detention. But your optimism was dropping as you watched for the third time as the fort collapsed, with Blaise accusing Theo again of being a useless twat for misplacing the pegs.

Across from you, you eyed the way the others had worked, laughing as Daphne and Pansy practically ordered Draco and Enzo into working together well. Though you could see the firewhiskey in the boys' systems wasn’t helping, as they had started arguing about the best way to create the fort. You rolled your eyes, giggling at the stupidity of how the night had unfolded.

Taking another drink from the bottle, you clapped your hands and explained your game plan to your team, elucidating to them. “Right, you two idiots, I’m going to connect the fort together from the inside, while you two hold it together from the outside. Make sure you pass me a peg when I yell.” You eyed your brother, laughing slightly as he held his hands up defensively.

Mattheo made his way down the Slytherin dorm corridors, hearing the sounds of his friends vibrate off the walls. He shoved open the door, readily expecting the ruckus he was about to be greeted with a grin cracking. “Wassup fuck-”, his mouth dropped, brows raising as he takes in the current commotion happening in the crowded room.

His eyes are first drawn to the loud bickering occurring between Theo and Blaise. “How long have you been putting pegs on me!? That’s bloody why we can’t find any more!” Blaise complains, reaching around his back to take them off his shirt. Theo struggles to steady himself against the wall as he hurls over, cracking up, gripping his stomach, deep laughter exploding from him. Mattheo’s brows remained raised, watching in amusement as Blaise struggled, spinning around himself like a dog to pry off the pegs.

Mattheo’s gaze shifts as he steps further into the room, dropping his bag on the floor, the sounds of Draco complaining in the mirror. His hands moving in an aggressive action, attempting to smooth out the wrinkles he created during the fort building. Daphne sits beside him, filming his displeasure with her own enjoyment. Mattheo rolls his eyes at his cousin, losing his tie, as his attention is swept once again. This time by Pansy and Enzo, who seem to have moved on after the success of their fort by now throwing lollies into one another’s mouth.

He spins around again, his curiosity peaks as he wonders where the last member of the group is. His heart drops at the thought of you being absent from the night, the expectation of seeing you having pushed him through his boredom in detention. His curiosity is cured when the faint sound of your voice is heard calling out from inside your fort. “Would you two stop bickering and cooperate! I need another peg. I'm literally holding this thing together from the inside!” 

Mattheo chuckles deeply, being the only one to hear you over all the commotion. He takes a peg off Blaise’s back, bending down to pop his head into the fort. He grins at the awkward position you seemed to have put yourself in, finding it amusing and also stupid that you left the two most difficult sheets to be pegged together last. His eyes drift down your figure, taking in the cute loungewear set you had on as you puffed a piece of hair out of your face, sighing irritably.

He knows he should just hand you the peg, but his impulsive thoughts and the fact that you two were actually alone for once made him act. As he leans over your shoulder, reaching forward to peg the two sheets together, making the fort stabilize. Your body shivers slightly as his body retracts back, his curls brushing against your cheek, causing your body to warm up.

You let go of the sheets, turning now to face him, unaware of how close he still is to you. You hadn’t even heard him come in, leaving you unprepared for his now close presence. He shifts back, allowing reasonable space between you two, and you let out a small sigh out, brushing it off as just an act of kindness, nothing more than platonic. You smile casually, “Oh, glad you could finally join us. What was the detention for this time, Riddle?” You tilt your head slightly, teasing him.

His mouth pulls in a half smile before he rolls his eyes at your taunt, “This one wasn’t actually my fault, the guy was just asking for it. Fucking first years.” He scrunches his face in fake annoyance, watching you laugh at his grumble.

His eyes meet yours for a moment, taking in the way your face is lit up before he shifts his attention to the fort. He was quite surprised with the fact it was actually staying up considering how intoxicated the others actually seemed. “Let me guess, this was your idea Ace.”

You let out a light laugh, averting your eyes to the interior of the fort. Praying your cheeks were keeping their composure, feeling the rush of heat hit them at the nickname. You’d always had a soft spot for the nickname, though you doubted it was only being used in a friendly manner. Nodding your head to his question, your eyes still gazing at the roof of the fort, feeling something was missing. “Yeah, I thought it would be a fun competition. Not too late for you to help out though. I still wanna hang some fairy lights so we can see. Can you grab them for me?”

Mattheo nodded, lazily leaning only his upper body out the fort entrance, posing himself in a way that gave you a good view of his ass. Unsure if he had done it on purpose or not, you tried not to stare too long, but the way it curved nicely in his pants was making your mind run wild. As Mattheo stuck his head out the entrance, spotting the others in a discussion, catching the end of their conversation about sneaking into the kitchens. “Oi, grab me a pack of MnMs,” he calls out to them, as they head out the dorm door.

He spots the fairy lights reaching out his outstretched hand, grabbing them before retracting back into the fort. He twisted around, noticing the way your eyes darted around before meeting his gaze. His chest thumps at the realization that the two of you are alone, chuckling to himself that your brother must be too far gone to have noticed. He passes the tangled lights to you with a sly grin. “What did you do with these last? Tie someone up with them?”

You roll your eyes at his joke, your cheeks definitely blushing now, moving closer to grab a fistful of lights, slowly untangling them, “Ha ha”. Not bothering to actually reply more than that, the two of you work in a somewhat comfortable silence despite your heart practically pumping out of your chest. His hands work skillfully, untangling the knots down the string. He was clearly good with his fingers. You bit your lip as your mind started wandering off as lewd thoughts swarmed through it. Merlin, what would your brother think, if he knew the ideas Mattheo was unawarely filling yours with.

You spun around feeling your body relax now that you were no longer in his direct eyesight, as you squatted to peg the lights up around the fort. The sound of your friends returning allowed a breath to be exhaled, one you didn’t know you were holding. The temptation of just being alone with Mattheo was proving to be difficult.

You grinned, beaming at the finished success of the fort, the lights twinkled giving off a cozy and relaxed ambiance. Mattheo’s felt himself crack a grin at the appearance of your happiness. He’d never get over the way it made him feel as if sunshine was being shone brightly inside him. He patted your thigh gently, “Looks good Ace.”

Before you can react to his touch, the others burst through, chucking pillows and blankets in a multitude of places as they all arrange themselves. You move out of the way watching as Pansy sets up a projector for you all to watch a film.

As the movie started, you rotated quickly to find a spot, coincidently noticing only one left beside Mattheo. He had made sure not to make you uncomfortable, leaving enough space between you both, as you squeezed in beside him, laying on your stomach. Laying side by side, your shoulder grazing him as you fiddled with the sleeve of your shirt.

Throughout the movie, you couldn’t stop fiddling, slipping your thumb in and out of the makeshift hole you had made. Mattheo lay his hands out in front of him, his eyes drawn to the movement of your fingers fidgeting. He played with his own thumbs trying to focus on the screen, the urge to reach out and embrace your own hand in his.

Though with you distracted, he inched closer to you as stealthily as possible, as to not scare you away or draw any attention to himself. His eyes moved to check out for Theo, who was deeply engrossed in the movie, probably having taken an edible. His eyes moving back up to yours, as you offered him some MnMs, graciously accepting. 

Moving to put the chocolates back in the middle, you used the moment to peer at him, noticing him distracted by the movie. You were trying to act as normal as possible, feeling the way his heat flowed onto yours from the closeness of your bodies. The illumination of the lights were cast upon him, allowing you to make out his appearance under the soft glow of the fort.

Taking in the pretty colour of his mahogany eyes and the sweet shape of his rosy lips as he licked the chocolate off them. You couldn’t help but imagine what they’d be like to kiss. You had thought you were doing a good job of being discreet when Mattheo leans into you to whisper, “You're staring Ace.” His voice was quiet enough as to not capture the attention of the others.

You froze momentarily, your heart beating, not realising how close he was to your face. Before you whispered back, “You’ve got chocolate on your face.” You swallow the lump forming in your throat as you pray, your response was quick and clever enough to cover up that fact that you had been caught. You kept your eyes glued to his, trying to give off the appeal that you were being serious.

His face spreads into a cheeky grin, whispering back. “Sure, it’s not because you’re in love with me.” He had said it as a joke but realised as he watched your eyes widen that his whispering may have made it come across differently. His own brows scrunched in realisation as he makes out through the dim lights, a faint tint of redness creeping up your cheeks.

You averted your eyes back to the TV, your heart hammering as you repeated his words over in your head. You were panicking, your eyes darting over to your brother. If anyone else heard and saw your reaction, you totally would have given away your feelings for him. You chewed on your lip before you cursed at yourself, for now realizing by not replying you were making the situation look worse. You look back at him, the small amount of firewhiskey flowing through you. “That’s very cocky of you to assume, Riddle”.

Your initial reaction to his comment gave him the confidence to nudge your shoulder slightly. “Am I wrong though?” he challenged, keeping his voice low. Though he didn’t get to hear your response as Pansy shushed the two of you, making you both look away from one another.

You could hardly concentrate on the rest of the movie after the latest turn of events. Your brain was working on overdrive to calm your anxiety. Of course he’d be the one to make your brain melt, turning you back into your fourteen old-self reminding you of when you first met him. He must think you’re insane. He’s probably laughing it up that Theo’s sister is in love with him. You felt trapped, wanting to escape, feeling like a joke. Caught up in your own panicked nightmare, the soft feeling of fingers pulls your attention, brushing against your hand.

Mattheo had rolled his eyes at Pansy, shushing them, watching the way you averted your eyes from him. His mind was buzzing at the possibility of you actually being into him. He pinched himself, harder than he expected flicking his hand in pain before resting it beside yours. In the fort's darkness, he took the impulsive decision to rest his fingertips against yours. He made the action gentle, not wanting you to react badly.

His pinky brushed against yours, and his heartbeat quickened when he felt the sudden movement of your reciprocation. He glanced up at the others, noticing no one paying any mind to the two of you, moving his gaze back to you. A small smile rested on your lips, though your eyes were glued to the movie. He couldn’t help but risk taking it further and slid his fingers into yours, rubbing his thumb over the back of your hand. 

Mattheo’s mind filled with only thoughts of you as he blankly stared at the projector. Your hand in his felt like the most natural thing, and he couldn’t believe the way he was feeling. How could such a small action reduce him to feeling like a giddy schoolboy. He couldn’t remember the last time he held someone's hand. As the movie progressed, the two of you didn’t break contact, fingers staying intertwined.

You finally turned to look at him, your eyes studying his sweet brown eyes. It was a quiet moment, but there was an unspoken understanding between them. They knew they were crossing a line, treading into dangerous territories if Theo ever found out. But the emotions shining in Mattheo’s eyes, a sly smirk playing on his lips, inflamed a desire that you knew was too good to ignore.

⤷ navigation. ⤷ masterlist. ⤷ mattheo masterlist. ⤷ divider. All work is my own and is not to be copied, claimed or stolen. ©️pizzaapeteer 2024.

[obsessedwithceleste]

Love on Lockdown

Blaise Zabini x reader

Summary: You’ve been locked in with Blaise Zabini one too many times for this to all be accidental

word count: 3k

©️ obsessedwithceleste. all works posted here belong to me and should not be reposted or copied in any way or form.

You had never had an issue with Blaise Zabini. Sure you had never been best friends or the like as he had always been one of the more reserved and quiet ones of the group, but you still enjoyed his company. One might even say you admired the boy’s subtle charm, tact, and top marks in your year. The handsome face didn’t hurt either. All that to say is there were definitely worse people to be locked in the bloody potions ingredient closet with.

“Damn it. The potion will go bad and we’ll have to restart the whole thing if it sits too long,” Blaise grunts, shoving at the door as it scrapes stubbornly against the floor.

The two of you had been taking advantage of the extra credit assignment offered in your potions class, staying late to brew a simple calming draught. All would have been well if not for a certain poltergeist with a penchant for causing mayhem.

It had started with Peeves serenading the both of you with an almost 30 minute long rendition of Hoggy Warty Hogwarts. In opera. When it was clear you both still had most of your sanity in tact, the poltergeist switched tactics to swiping your ingredients when you weren't looking. But this, this really took the cake.

Really you probably should have seen it coming. It was right up Peeves' alley to pull a stunt like this, yet, like fools, you and Blaise had stupidly walked into the ingredient storeroom together in search of another crocodile heart as Peeves had sent the last one flying out the window. As soon as you were inside, the door was swung shut with a loud clang and a gleeful shriek from the meddlesome poltergeist.

“That stupid little- Peeves let us out!" You shout, banging on the door.

It's no use however as you here the poltergeist's laughter fade away.

"I should've let Draco and Matt hex that bloody ghost when they had the chance” you huff in annoyance.

Turning, you light your wand as you browse the shelves. “Aha!” Reaching up, you pluck a wrinkly, rock looking item off the shelf. “One crocodile heart.”

“Wonderful. Lot of good it’ll do us while we’re in here, and our potion is out there.” Blaise mutters, pointing his wand at the door’s lock again.

You ignore him, going instead to examine the door yourself.

“It’s not locked, just jammed shut,” Blaise says, leaning back.

“How cross do you think they’ll be if we just blast the thing off its hinges?” You ask, examining the rusted metal.

“You’re joking. You’ve been spending far too much time with Matt and Draco. That’s a horrible i-“

“Diffindo”

With two clean flicks of your wand, the door is off its hinges and on the ground with a loud thud. The both of you look at the door, then at each other.

“Well, at least we won’t have to start the potion over,” you say finally, stepping over the fallen door and making your way over to the potion station where your project is still a glistening shade of blue.

“Bloody hell,” you hear Blaise mumble as he joins you.

You almost miss the sly smile he tries to suppress.

“Do try not to get yourself all locked up,” Mattheo shouts after you with a cackle as you make your way toward the old shack that housed the Hogwarts quidditch supplies.

“Oh remind me why I volunteered to help you again?” You shout back, flipping the boy off. Rancid bastard.

Ever since you and Blaise had, against both of your better judgement, told your friends what had happened that day in the potions classroom that landed you both a week’s detention, they hadn’t let you forget it. Propping the door open with an old broom, you begin digging through the old junk. You didn’t even know why they found it so amusing. Realistically the whole situation had only lasted a few minutes at most, hardly note worthy in your opinion. On top of that, it had been several weeks since the incident. Initially you had thought it would blow over rather quickly, but here Mattheo was, still poking fun at it.

The only silver lining of the whole situation was that you and Blaise had actually begun seeing each other outside of group settings in order to escape the near constant teasing. It was strange. You couldn’t remember another time they were this caught up on a bit.

“Need help?”

Feeling a light tap on the shoulder and with the sudden noise, you let out a yelp, backing into the rack behind you. A box of quaffles goes flying, dislodging the broom holding the door in place, and slamming the door shut.

“Sorry,” Blaise says awkwardly, glancing around the cramped shed guiltily.

“Oh it’s fine. Just spooked me a bit is all. Didn’t hear you come in,” you reply as you continue your search through the jumbled supplies.

“I’d be surprised if we actually find any more beater’s bats in here. Mattheo has been running through the things lately. Has to be the third one broken this month,” Blaise comments as he begins to help rummage about.

“Maybe he should start taking notes from your book then. You haven’t busted through a single bat yet this season, but somehow Mattheo is single handedly running Quality Quidditch Suppiles out of supplies,” you reply in exasperation.

Blaise lets out a small laugh. He’d been doing that a lot more lately; and every time, you could feel your heart start pounding in your chest.

“That’s what I’ve been telling him, but you know how he is. Doesn’t listen to shit. Oh look!”

Before you have the chance to turn to see what he’s on about his chest presses against you as he reaches up and over you. Out of the corner of your eyes you can see his toned, muscular arms around you and you try not to stare.

“Probably the last set in this dump,” Blaise says, pulling a box of the very top shelf.

You take a gulp, composing yourself.

“Oh perfect. Let’s get out of here,” you reply, turning to open the shed door.

It doesn’t budge. You try again, harder this time. Nothing.

“Oh for Salazar’s sake,” Blaise mutters, dropping the box on the floor as he too tries shoving the door open.

“They are so never going to let us live this down,” you groan as you both pound on the door.

After a minute you both slump to the floor, staring up a the blasted wooden rectangle. You look at the door, then at Blaise, and slowly begin to reach for your wand.

“I could always just-“

“Absolutely not. One week of detention with Snape was enough for me, thanks,” Blaise interrupts, snatching your wand from your hand.

“Oh, I was only joking. Mostly. I’ll be careful this time,” you protest, leaning over to snatch your wand back. “Come on, give it back.”

Blaise just leans away further, another laugh escaping him as he holds your wand further out of reach.

“Blaise, please,” you laugh, leaning into him further.

It only takes a moment for your eyes to meet his, and for his eyes to flicker down to your lips before you realize just how close the two of you are. You can feel his breath on your cheek as he lets out an awkward cough, pulling away slightly.

“Sorry.” Blaise clears his throat, handing your wand back. “Anyway, we’ve been gone a bit, the others’ll come looking for us. No point blasting the door down.”

“Right,” you agree, suddenly finding the ground to be rather fascinating.

Shockingly, it doesn't take the rest of the day for your friends to come and rescue you, but you don't particularly care for the look on Mattheo's face when the door to the shed is finally pried open.

"Not one word Riddle."

“Do you hear that?” You ask, stopping in your tracks as you try to pinpoint where the sound was coming from.

“What, the cat screaming bloody murder?” Blaise asks seeming rather uninterested.

The two of you were on your way down to the library to study for the upcoming charms exam. And also to escape the chaos that seemed to follow Mattheo and Draco wherever they went.

“Yes, but listen. That’s Pansy’s cat. Darn thing probably got itself stuck in one of the passage ways again,” you sigh, making your way over to the wall of paintings that the meows of distress seemed to be coming from.

“That sounds like Pansy’s problem if you ask me,” Blaise says, but he still follows you over.

“You see a cat sneak through here?” You ask a painting of a rather disgruntled looking knight.

“Yeah. Blasted thing ‘as been screaming behind ‘ere for ages,” he replies.

“We’ll get him, open up.”

“Wouldn’t if I were you, but suit yourselves,” the knight says matter of factly before swinging open to reveal a narrow passage way and Pansy’s cat scratching manically at the walls.

You gesture for Blaise to follow you as you step over the threshold, coaxing the cat towards you. It only takes a bit of convincing before the grey tabby is securely in your arms. As you go to leave however, you find that your feet are strangely locked in place.

“What the-“

Next to you, Blaise tries taking a step towards the exit as well, only to find that he too was locked in place.

“For the love of fucking Salazar, you’ve got to be joking,” he says finally after a bit of struggle.

“What do you think it is? Epoximise?” You ask, straining to try and see if you could see anything sticking you in place.

“Likely. Would be nice right about now to be studying for that charms exam so we knew how to undo it.”

You’re about to cut your losses and begin screaming for help when the portrait door swings open once more revealing one Mattheo Riddle. His smug grin falls when he sees the two of you glaring back at him. You were going to murder him.

“Oh shit.”

“What in Salazar’s name did you do Riddle?” You ask between gritted teeth.

“Okay hear me out, let it go on record now, this wasn’t intended for you two,” the boy says sheepishly. “Blaise’ll thank me later though,” he says under his breath, quietly enough that you don’t quite catch it.

Blaise does however, and you see his hand tighten around his wand.

“Cut to it Riddle,” he snaps.

“Sorry, sorry! I might have been playing a little prank on Pansy. And Malfoy. They started it though! It wasn’t my fault!”

“Mattheo-“

“Alright! I was messing around with that sticking charm from class, did a little meddling, made it so I could set it up like a little, ah, what’s it called? A mouse trap! But with the cat instead of cheese. Obviously.”

“Just tell us how to get out! Salazar Matt, we didn’t ask for your whole evil plan,” you exclaim in exasperation.

“Oh! Real simple, just need a kiss!” Matt replies, looking rather pleased with himself.

“Really Matt? A kiss?”

“It wasn’t meant for you two! It was for Pansy and Draco!”

“Oh my god, you’re not even creative. Mistletoe. You just made magical mistletoe,” you say in frustration.

“What?”

“Nothing! It’s a muggle thing.”

Before you can lose your nerve, you reach up quickly, grabbing Blaise’s tie and pulling him down. Your lips are only touching for a few seconds before you let the boy go and, with your newly freed feet, rush out of the passage way.

“Immobulus,” you mutter as you stomp past Mattheo who freezes in place.

As soon as you’re out, Pansy’s cat leaps from your arms, scurrying off.

“We really just going to leave him there?” Blaise asks, following you out.

“That sounds like Mattheo’s problem if you ask me,” you reply, hoping Blaise hadn’t noticed quite how flushed your face still was.

He just lets out another low laugh as the two of you continue on your way to the library, both trying to ignore the way your fingers kept brushing as you walked.

"That's a muggle game. I thought you lot were supposed to despise everything to do with muggles. Wait, actually, where did you all even learn what seven minutes in heaven is?" you ask in confusion, watching with bewilderment as your friends situate themselves in a rather crude looking circle.

Your eyes can’t help but find Blaise who looks completely unbothered by all this, despite his usual aversion to these little games that Pansy so loved to drag everyone into. You weren’t quite sure what was going on between the two of you, and you weren’t entirely sure if you desperately wanted to be locked in the closet again with the boy, or if you wanted to run the hell away.

Pansy places an empty bottle of fire whisky in the middle and beckons you to take a seat next to her.

"Does it really matter where we learned it from? Come sit," she says, brushing off your concern.

And that's how you had ended up here. Pressed up against the wall, in the dark, with your arms wrapped around Blaise's neck, his hand covering your mouth as he pressed kisses down your throat.

One moment you were both protesting as your friends all shoved you into yet another closet, confiscating your wands, and locking the door. And the next, Blaise was whispering in your ear as his hands made their way to your waist and you melted into him.

It was definitely not what you had expected to happen. You had no idea where the sudden burst of confidence from Blaise had come from, but you weren’t about to complain.

"If we're going to be stuck here, we might as well make the most of it, no?" he had murmured, tilting your head up with one hand, forcing your eyes to meet before slowly, carefully pressing his lips to yours.

You didn't pull away and that seemed to be all the encouragement Blaise needed as he pressed your bodies together. You could feel your heart trying to beat out of your chest as his lips moved against yours, warm and soft, mind turning to a muddy haze.

You barely register the gasp that escapes your lips as Blaise begins to trail kisses down your neck, and don't even bother to fight back as his hand presses against your mouth with a low laugh before he continues back up, finally meeting your lips again.

It all comes to a shattering stop though when the banging starts.

"Hey! Knock knock love birds! Time to open up!"

And just like that, you're momentarily blinded as light rushes back into closet and you hope to Salazar that you're some semblance of put together.

It had been a long fucking week and all you wanted to do was collapse onto your bed and cuddle your damn boyfriend. Was that too much to ask?

"Go, go, go, go, go," you hiss, racing into your dorm room, Blaise hot on your heels.

As soon as you're both in the room, you slam the door shut and turn the lock with a hasty "Colloportus".

"Think they saw us?" Blaise asks, pulling you onto the bed and into his arms.

"I don't care. I just want like, ten minutes without hearing Draco and Mattheo and Theo and Enzo fighting like wild grindylows," you groan, burying your face in the boy's chest.

The boys had begun trying to drag you into their latest scheme and you simply wanted nothing to do with it. You weren’t even entirely sure what the whole plot of their scheme was as you had been actively ignoring most of what they were saying at dinner. All you knew was no matter how many times you or Blaise told them that locking Draco and Pansy in a closet together on purpose was actually a horrible idea, they wouldn't listen.

"At least you're not the one who shares a dormitory with them," Blaise remarks with a laugh. “They were going on about how I’m ‘an expert’ at not knowing how to properly function a door earlier.”

"Yoohoo! We know you two are in there!" Matt's voice calls from the other side of the door.

"And here we see Blaise and y/n in their natural habitat. A locked room." Theo quips as the other boys fall into a mix of laughter and other jabs.

"Maybe if we pretend we died, they'll get bored and go away," you mutter, hoping the obnoxious train wreck outside your door couldn't hear.

"Perhaps we didn't properly appreciate all the time we spent all locked up. Only way to get some peace and quiet in this castle," Blaise agrees as the knocking on your door continues.

"Alohomora!"

The door slams open revealing a very smug looking Draco surrounded by his accomplices.

"Oh good, we were worried you might being doing something nasty," Enzo says, inviting himself and the other boys in.

Oh perfect, the circus had arrived with its clowns.

"As we were saying before you two so rudely escaped, we were thinking, since my whole cat trap didn't exactly go as planned, do you two have any ideas on how we can get Pansy locked up with Draco? Since it worked out so well for you?" Matt asks.

You glare at the intruders.

"Get. Out."

"Fine, fine, just asking! Thought you might want to help a ferret out," Matt says, raising his hands in surrender as he now has you and Draco both glaring daggers at him.

"Out."

"We're going, we're going," he replies as he and the other boys slowly begin filing out.

"And lock the door behind you!" Blaise calls out as the door finally slams shut. "Salazar those buggers don't know when to shove off."

"I don't even want to think about them," you reply rolling your eyes before pressing your lips to his.

You really needed to start looking into a better locking charm.

Anotha year, anotha Hogmarch challenge from @thatdammchickennugget

[wordsarelife]

—gorgeous

pairing: mattheo riddle x fem!reader

summary: being in love with your best friend might be a bad idea, but drowning your sorrows in alcohol might be your worst one yet

warnings: underage drinking, partying, no usage of y/n, a few suggestive remarks

notes: this is my official entry for the hogmarch challenge of @thatdammchickennugget using prompt 2: “are you speaking parsletongue or am i really that drunk?”

the night was rushing fast away in front of your eyes, easy chatter, at the start of the party, quickly turning into drunken singing and shouting along to the music that was drowning out everything else.

the dim blue light that was shining through the ravenclaw common room did it‘s best to worsen the drunken state many of your classmates were in.

mattheo was sitting on a couch, wearing his usual cool demeanour and being surrounded by his friends. they were known for getting a bit drunk, but never making an embarrassment out of themselves through loud singing or obnoxious dancing.

and normally you were known for sitting right next to them and doing the same.

even though it was dark, you could see mattheo's head turn and his eyes searching the crowd for you. you had excused yourself to get something to drink. that had been over ten minutes ago and you were really debating to just go to bed.

the night had turned out differently than you had expected and you weren't really in the mood to act like it hadn't.

"someone is looking for you" a voice behind you said and you turned around startled.

"harry" you said relieved when you recognized the boy.

it wasn't like the two of you were friends, after all you were coming from vastly different groups, but since a project in astronomy you had become acquaintances, sometimes sharing a few nice words at parties.

"why are you standing here all alone? why aren't you with your friends?"

"why aren't you?" you shot back, making harry quirk an eyebrow.

"well played" he complimented and smiled "i was trying to get away from dean and ginny making out"

"ouch" it wasn't really a well known fact that harry fancied ginny, but you had noticed it right away a few parties ago and he had been able to read you well enough to know that you had known.

"it's alright" he shrugged "i just don't want to sit next to it"

"who would?" you asked sarcastically as you eyes fell on the couple, hungrily making out on the couch, successfully pushing seamus off.

it seemed that a few people felt way too comfortable in the ravenclaw common room.

"oi, it's no fun with these two" seamus complained, sympathetically hitting harry's shoulder on the way to the table with the drinks.

"back to you" harry grinned, seemingly uncomfortable with talking about his secret crush on ginny weasley more than necessary "why are you avoiding riddle? i thought you two were the best of friends"

"i'm not avoiding him" you said defensively, taking a big gulp from the vodka in your cup to prevent yourself from saying any more.

harry took a moment to study your facial expression, before he sighed in a tone that almost made you tear up "oh"

"no" you shook your head "no 'oh', stop looking at me like that, potter"

harry laughed dryly "too late" he shrugged "so, being the best of friends is your actual problem, huh?"

you didn't answer his question, but took another sip from the cup. immediately regretting it.

harry cringed "if you continue drinking at that rate you won't be able to speak a coherent sentence in a few minutes"

"maybe i don't want to speak coherent sentences anymore"

"so we're already at the point of drowning our sorrows in alcohol?" he raised his cup and took a sip "no, you're right, it doesn't look like you're unluckily in love with riddle at all"

you sighed "okay, fine, you're obviously smarter than you look" you rolled your eyes.

"well, ouch" harry said offended, but you could see a hint of mischief in his eyes. "am i allowed to join your little club of self-pity?"

"sure" you nodded "the more the merrier i guess"

"there's no better way to spend a party than drown yourself in self-pity with the girl you're kind of on good terms with"

"yeah, totally" you grinned "but i think if we continue talking at that rate we will be able to call each other friends in an hour"

"deal" harry laughed, before he grabbed the bottle of vodka on the table behind you, filling both your own and his cup back up. he put the bottle back and held his cup in your direction "to unrequited love" he said dramatically.

you grimaced, but raised your cup to clink against his. "to unrequited love" you toasted "and unexpected friendships" you added.

"yeah that too" he smiled before you both took a big sip from your cups.

"vodka is fucking disgusting" you complained and harry nodded, making a face that would allow the assumption that he had been thinking the same thing.

"at least it does the trick"

you and harry spend the next hour recklessly sipping vodka, while you were telling each other ridiculous stories. the vodka had a quicker effect than either of you had thought, making the both of you dance and refer to each other as friends sooner than you had predicted.

just as 'dancing queen' began to play and you were twirling on the dancefloor, did you notice the empty spot on the couch occupied by your friends. there was only one of them missing. before it could really register in your brain who exactly was missing, a voice rang out next to you.

"make room, potter" you and harry both turned around, looking surprised at the arrival of mattheo riddle.

"matty" you laughed after the few seconds it had taken you to recognize your best friend.

mattheo's arm darted to the side, catching you before you could fall to the ground. you had made the attempt to hug him, missing his body by a few feet. you had been closer to hugging cormac mclaggen who was standing off to the side.

"there you are" mattheo noted, gently taking your cup out of your hand, sniffing the contents and grimacing at the strong sent of vodka, mixed with a bit of orange juice.

"do you want some?" you slurred, grinning up at the boy, who's arm was still holding you steady.

"how many of these has she had?" mattheo asked harry, thinking he would be a little less wasted than you.

"like thirty-four thousand?" harry answered before him and you broke into simultaneous laughter.

"had to have been a lot" mattheo muttered, noticing the way you were laughing with the chosen one, gripping his arm, like you were old friends.

he let go of you, taking harry's cup as well, emptying the both into the bucket under the table with the drinks. he came back right in time to witness you saying goodbye to harry with a dramatic hug, kissing both his cheeks and lastly his forehead.

"yeah, that's enough" mattheo said, dragging your body back against his when he noticed you going in to plant more kisses on harry's face. he looked bad enough, the red lipstick you were wearing leaving marks all over his face.

harry smiled before he waved at you and turned around, stumbling through the crowd of students probably in search of his redheaded best friend.

mattheo rolled his eyes. "you're absolutely wasted, darling"

you turned around to look at him and unconsciously bring a bit of space between the both of you "is it that obvious?" you asked.

mattheo watched with a smirk, how you tried to balance yourself out, to just be able to stand. your arm ended up stabilizing your own hip and you almost fell full on to the side, when you moved your leg.

"not really" mattheo grinned "come on, baby" he softly gripped your waist on either side, guiding you in the direction of your friends. you closed your eyes, leaning your head against his shoulder, letting him walk you through the room willingly.

"have i ever told you how gorgeous you are?"

"i am?" he asked laughing.

"so gorgeous that it hurts"

"you're flattering me" he smiled, nudging your arm. "but maybe you should concentrate more on walking in the right direction"

he was right. it was taking you way too long to cross the room, thanks to your inability to still walk in a straight line, even with his help.

"hey" mattheo greeted, making the eyes of his friends turn on him. "i'm bringing her to bed"

"already?" enzo asked skeptically, checking his watch "it's only two a.m."

"hey guys!" you greeted when your eyes snapped open. you bend forward, plastering a kiss onto enzo’s cheek. "how the party you doing? good? good!" you smiled, nodding as your eyes fell closed, as you leaned back onto mattheo again.

"what?" theo laughed at your slurred words that had not made the slightest bit of sense.

"yeah, i get it now" enzo nodded understandingly, trying to rub your lipstick off his cheek.

"she's only been gone for an hour" blaise said unbelievingly "how did she get that drunk?"

"she's had approximately like more than a thousand vodka-o's according to potter" mattheo chuckled.

"potter?" draco repeated disgustingly "what has she been doing with potter?"

"harry and i are best friends" you gushed, giving draco an angry look. he rolled his eyes in annoyance, but without questioning your answer.

"let's not get ahead of ourselves, love" mattheo argued, a bit of jealousy in his voice.

"you don't have to be jealous" you softly touched his cheek "you know i love you more than anyone, honey"

blaise let out a loud whistling noise "seems likes she's your girl after all, riddle"

"oh shut up" mattheo said at the same time as you said "of course"

"better bring her to bed now" theo advised and you could feel mattheo nod next to you.

"i'll be back in a few minutes" mattheo promised, as he softly turned you around to be able to walk you in the direction of the door.

"no he won't" you slurred, turning your head in the direction your friends, gripping mattheo's neck and winking at them.

enzo hollored and theo laughed, while blaise repeated the whisteling.

"cheers to that" even draco was amused about you, as he raised his cup in your direction.

"i'll be back" mattheo assured again, pushing you forward.

"no you won't" theo shook his head, smirking as he watched his friend roll his eyes and gently guide you through the crowd.

"how about a shot of tequila?" you suggested to mattheo, perfectly awake again. there was no hint of the tiredness that had consumed your body only a few minutes ago.

maybe it was the alcohol or maybe it was the sound of a familiar voice indicating the beginning of the song 'whatta man' by salt-n-pepa, which was now booming through the boxes.

"no, no more alcohol" mattheo shook his head, suddenly being the kind of responsible he had never seen himself to become.

"oh my god!" you gushed when you finally reconized the song "that's my favorite song! let us dance, matty!"

he was distracted by two hufflepuff boys almost running into him, when you saw the perfect opportunity to escape his hold. stupidly enough, that was the only thing you could see, as you had promptly gotten lost in the crowd of people.

mattheo was at your side only a second after, making you realize that you had in fact just turned around, without moving more than a feet away from him.

"if you don't come with me on your own accord, i'll have to carry you" mattheo warned.

you giggled, clasping your hands around his biceps "let us dance" you pleaded, completely ignoring what he had said.

mattheo furrowed his eyebrows, still waiting for you to reply to what he had said, but you were busy watching a few ravenclaws and hufflepuffs downing shots. "or we could down some shots" you mumbled.

mattheo took that as answer enough, clasping one of his hands around your forearm and the other around your leg, as he bend down to throw you over his shoulder.

"matty" you protested, as he began to walk you out of the common room. you gave up arguing and continued to sing along to the chorus of 'whatta man' as mattheo walked you both through the crowd of people.

as soon as the door to the ravenclaw common room fell close behind the two of you, you slumped down on mattheo's shoulder, the tiredness hitting you immediately.

"do you want to walk on your own now, baby?" mattheo asked, but he could feel you shake your head. "can you use you words?" he was growing a bit concerned at your sudden mood shift, trying to make sure that you were still somewhat alright.

"no" you pouted "i don't want to use my words"

"you just did"

"i never let a man tell me what to do" you slurred and mattheo had to chuckle.

"clearly" he muttered under his breath.

he walked through the halls of the castle quickly, making sure that you wouldn't be discovered by one of the teachers. you would probably kill him if one of them saw you like this. you never really got that drunk often, so it was on mattheo to make sure that no one found out about it now.

he should've searched for you immediately after you hadn't come back. he shouldn't have waited an hour. but he was scared of annoying you. you were always together and he had taken your absence as a sign for you needing some space.

if he could, he would follow you around all the time, preferably holding your hand while doing so. maybe in another universe you would want him to do that.

"when are we there?" you asked, your hand wandering across his shoulder, before it finally found it's place in his hair, gripping it tightly.

"any second now" mattheo was trying to make sure not to shake your body too much, as he quickly walked down the steps to the dungeon. he wouldn't want you to throw up. "do you feel sick, sweetheart?"

"no" you muttered "i just want to sleep"

"i know, i know" mattheo patted the back of your leg "we're almost at the door"

he hadn't lied. it only took a few more seconds, before he whispered the password and the door to the slytherin common room opened, revealing the familiar green lighting as he walked you both inside. he crossed the room, climbing the stairs to your dorm.

he took his time to set you down on your bed, making sure that no quick movement could make you feel uncomfortable. he unfolded your blanket, spreading it across your body.

he was ready to leave the room, before you called him back.

"matty" you cried and he perked up, walking back to the bed. you threw the blanket to the side dramatically, revealing your trousers and shirt. "i can't sleep like this"

"oh" mattheo said dumbfounded "do you want me to take them off?" he asked slowly, gripping the waistband of your trousers.

"are you speaking parsletongue or am i really that drunk?" you giggled at the joke with your eyes still closed.

"you're really that drunk" mattheo answered, rolling his eyes at your unseriousness "and it's not funny"

"it's a bit funny" you opened your eyes and giggled at his facial expression "why are you so serious, matty?"

"i should've kept an eye on you" he answered "you don't like to be drunk"

"i can make my own decisions" you argued, crossing your arms.

"obviously" mattheo nodded "should i take them off?" he repeated his question from earlier, but the tone of his voice made you sober up immediately, well at least a bit.

"are you really angry at me right now?" you asked surprised.

"i had to leave the party to bring you to bed"

"that's not the reason you're angry" you said, knowing him well enough to see through his lie.

"okay, fine" he sat down on the bed and you sat up, drawing your knees to your chest and hugging them with your arms. "maybe i'm a bit angry that you would rather spend your evening getting drunk with potter than speaking to me"

"matty"

"no, it's fine" he shook his head "i shouldn't be angry about how you choose to spend your time. goodnight" he stood up from the bed, walking to the door quickly, so voice rang out before he was able to twist the doorknob.

"can you please just stay?" you asked and he turned around in surprise.

"what?"

"maybe i chose to spend time with harry, but i'm choosing to spend the night with you. isn't that more important?"

"that's not how it works"

"okay, fine" you said, tired of arguing "do you want to know the truth? spending time with you is super hard while i'm madly in love with you" even though you were a bit more sober than before, he could still recognize the drunkness in your voice, especially because you were never that bold.

"madly in love with me, huh?" mattheo repeated surprised, his signature smirk immediately replacing the frown on his face.

“it’s embarrassing, i know” you buried your face in your hands, hiding your rosy cheeks from his eyes. he softly took your hands in his, freeing your face of them.

"don't hide from me" he smiled "and it’s not embarrassing, because the truth is, that i'm madly in love with you too"

you smiled up at him. “can you kiss me then?” he smiled at your question, but shook his head.

“no more kisses tonight” he muttered, softly stroking your hair “we can do that tomorrow, as often as you want to, when you’re sober again”

“okay” you nodded.

he gently helped you to exchange your trousers for pyjama bottoms, before he took of his shirt and climbed into bed next to you. you cuddled close to his chest, your hair tickling him whenever you moved.

"blaise was right" you said finally "i'm your girl after all"

"you always were" mattheo whispered back, softly kissing your forehead, before the both of you fell asleep, holding onto each other.

[gemissleeping]

Moonlight & Masks

Theodore Nott x Fem!Reader

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

Length: 1.8k

Notes: Back from the dead (I am so sorry things are hectic and I don’t want to release a chapter I’m not feeling) with this little one from @thatdammchickennugget’s Hogmarch Challenge! Death Eater Theo. Use of the killing curse. Angst as always because we know I live for the drama. For those of you wanting more Veleveteen, in my head this occurs in the same story universe (which I know isn’t the same as an update pls forgive my sins). Not proofread, we have deadlines to meet.

The sting of lightning hung in the air as she weaved through the trees. The thundering footfall still pressing behind her. Lungs burning with need, she pressed on. Dizzied from the turbulent descent she and Mad Eye had suffered.

Alastor. He was dead.

She hadn’t even been able to take his body from the dirt where it had fallen. And the Death Eaters certainly wouldn’t afford him the dignity of a proper burial.

Tears clawed at her cheeks as she bounded over the tree roots twisting across the forest floor. Thinking only of Mad Eye, the way his voice had simply ceased when the curse had hit him. No cry of pain, no strangled wail. Only silence.

Her grip on her wand tightened as her tears ran hot. The taunting laugh of one of her pursuers echoing through the trees as they crashed after her. The darkness spinning endlessly around her. It wasn’t fair. None of it was fair. Gone were the rules they had been taught to play by. Humanity sacrificed for power. Thoughtless with rage, she cast back her wand into the leering shadows. Letting the words fall from her lips before her heart could catch them.

Avada Kedavra

The green light felt as though it tore right through her as it ricocheted from her wand. Scattering through the trees and hitting its mark with a crack. Ripping at her chest with blistering heat, forcing her ribs apart until the spell dissipated. The laughter ceased. That same absence that had followed earlier resting through the trees. She was dragged to a still.

The force of the spell brought her to her knees. Bark breaking the skin of her palms, blood blooming as she fell forward in agony. She felt it being torn from her throat just now; some vital piece of herself. What she had given to cast the curse. The crack rung through her ears. Trailing her even as its ringing grew soft, faded into the background of the forest’s creaks and stutters. She could feel the heaving of her chest, dizzied by the absence that had been dug into her.

Before she could break upon the forest floor completely, the snap of a twig behind her brought reality rearing back. Whipping to face the darkness, she searched the teasing shadows that surrounded her. Nothing answered but the wind. She pushed herself up on bloody palms, staggering towards the nearest tree. Catching the glint of a metal smile hit by moonlight as she turned. But it was too late.

The Death Eater was on her in a second, wand jammed to her throat. One hand wrenching her head back by the hair. A mutilated snarl coming from the unmoving mask.

“Potter.”

She still had Harry’s face.

The figure towered before her, gloved hand pulling harshly at her hair as she strained against their grip. More tears pricking at her eyes as she faced the smooth and indifferent wall between them. Both of them were wearing masks really. But the thought brought little comfort to the nausea biting at her.

She was going to die someone else.

Wand to her throat, she closed her eyes. Preparing for the flurry of hot green light. Perhaps it was what she deserved, it could be a mercy. This way she would never have to truly face what she had done. There was no doubt in her mind that the person before her would finish the job. And yet she waited, but nothing came.

Opening her eyes once again she found him watching her carefully. Blue eyes clouded with something foreign, his silver mask lodged in the dirt at their feet. Looking at her with nothing but quiet restraint. She felt her throat close at the sight of him, all defences leaving her as she stared up at the boy before her.

“I asked something of you, when I saw you last,” Theo spoke lowly, wand still jammed to her throat as though he didn’t fully trust the person he saw before him. “Do you have an answer for me?” His voice fell flat against the forest air, low and heavy as his empty eyes.

His words sent another wave of dizziness crashing through her. The events of the past ten minutes threatening to bring everything up from her stomach. She wanted to fall into his chest and let his robes soak up her tears. To slice her palm clean across his cheek. Fall to the forest floor and not get up. Beg him to finish the job.

But instead, she did as she was told; she stayed quiet. Like the good little soldier they had taught her to be. Counting the freckles and moles that dotted the skin of his cheeks like they were her favourite constellations.

“Answer the question,” Theo snarled again, shoving her back forcefully. Back hitting the jagged edges of bark with an audible crack as a groan left her. Still she didn’t speak, blinking up at him as her head spun from when it had made contact with the tree.

“I’ll do it Potter,” he hissed lowly. His wand cutting further into her throat as she struggled to breathe under its pressure. He barely seemed to notice, staring down at her with empty eyes. “Don’t think I won’t just because you have something I want.”

She only watched him carefully, trying not to let herself give it away as she watched him. Staving off the clouds of memory that threatened to consume her at the sight of him.

“No?” He chimed, a sharp edge to his warm voice, “Very well.”

He drew a breathe, anger taking him in its burning grip. But just as the curse he had planned to cast was forming a whisper of air on his lips; she felt it. The rippling beneath her skin. Pulling and tugging and melting at the fibres of her. She bit her tongue as the pain of it ripped through her. Reforming beneath the skin as everything cracked and popped in and out of place. Until only she remained, swimming in Harry’s ridiculous hoodie.

Theo still had her pressed against the tree, all colour drained from his face as he watched the skin seem to melt and reform on her bones. His hands began to shake. She watched him with distant eyes, trying to hold onto what little restraint remained.

“What’s wrong?” She asked hoarsely, her throat aching from the potion’s due course. Theo’s wand still hesitantly pressed to the delicate skin of her throat. “Can’t do it anymore?”

It happened like the break of a dam. Her name fell from his lips in a rush of credence. Lips falling apart at the sight of her before him, what he’d almost done without realising. His wand dropped in a stagger, as though she had struck him. The darkness of the forest enclosing around them.

“You left me there,” he breathed suddenly, as though it hadn’t meant to come out. She blinked up at him as confusion swept her. But the lost look he carried only washed away as his eyes hardened.

“What?” she breathed.

“You left me there alone,” he spoke again, ignited with a sudden rage. His words were like kindling to her own. Her brow cracking with anger.

“No, Theo,” her voice shook, “you left me.” Theo looked to the ground, shaking his head gently in denial. He took a hesitant step forwards, as though to reach for her. But she stepped back, her spine hitting the tree. “Do you know how much I had to go through alone before I got out of there? Because you were too busy running off with Draco, or-”

He closed the distance between them with a blistering intensity.

“Do you know what it’s been like since? Without you?” It came out in a boiling whisper. “He wants your head almost as much as he wants Potter’s,” Theo’s eyes softened at the words, swept up in whatever memory they procured. “And I just have to sit there and take it, listening to the vile things they plan to do to you. Knowing there’s not a single fucking thing I can do about any of it, except for-”

He didn’t have to say it, the break of his voice said enough. The way his eyes fled from her own. He had meant to kill her.

“Why don’t you do it then?” She whispered, eyes brimming with more tears. Looking to the boy she had loved since she was too young to understand the word. “It would save me the-”

“Stop it.”

“I deserve it, don’t I? For leaving you. You said so yourself, in your letter. I read it you know.”

“No, I didn’t mean-”

“I know you’ve cast it before-”

“I said stop,” he bellowed, pressing himself against her in a flash of pent up fury. His body flush against hers as his chest heaved with the weight of his rage. “Even if I wanted to,” he whispered, his lips brushing lightly against her ear, “I can’t.” His hands tightened into fists, “He wants to do it himself.”

He peeled himself away from her, as though every inch of his skin that couldn’t feel hers was the worst form of torture. Drinking in every part of her except for her eyes, which he couldn’t bring himself to meet. She searched his, begging him to pull himself to meet hers.

“Is it that?” She breathed, fearful eyes rounded as she looked up to him. Searching for that thread that had always hung between them. His eyes grew tense as he saw what thoughts lay in hers, “Or is it because-”

“Stop.”

-you love me.

“Don’t,” he snapped, but even the sharp edge of his voice couldn’t distract from the despair swimming in his eyes. “Please,” he breathed, his head dipping towards her neck in defeat, but not daring to brush the skin, “don’t.”

He wanted to hold her, let his fingers trail across her cheeks, brush his thumb over her eyelashes. Just to make sure it was really her. Not some cruel trick made out to test his loyalty. But instead he let his breath fan across the bare skin of her neck. Knowing it was the only way he could allow himself to touch her.

“It was you I asked after,” his confession fell dead against the skin of her neck. He heard the breath she drew as though it was taken from him. Felt himself unravelling being so close to her now, after months of waiting and silence and searching.

Fuck it.

He’d be flayed for it, but everything could be damned. None of it mattered if he could feel her lips on his again. His hands flew to the delicate skin of her cheeks. Palms soaking in the remainder of her tears as his lips met hers. They parted effortlessly for him, welcoming him in as though she had been waiting just as he had. The softness of her lips balancing against his hunger. Her head tilted towards him, completely at his mercy beneath his calloused palms. Just as she should have been all this time.

[weasleyreidstyles]

on a night like tonight

wrote this for @thatdammchickennugget's hogmarch challenge using the dialogue prompt!! just a fluffy (debatable) one shot for my favourite slytherin boy🫠🫠🫠

prompt 2: "are you speaking parceltongue or am i really drunk?"

pairing: mattheo riddle x fem!slytherin reader (although its not that important to the one shot, honestly)

warning(s): slightly suggestive (towards the end), alcohol consumption

~∞~ i love writing for mattheo😫 idk how i feel about this one but i enjoyed writing either way lol. and yes i titled this after a niall song (im still not over the fact that i saw him in the flesh like a whole week ago!??!?!) also happy international women's day to all of you sexy, beautiful women xxxx

The Slytherin common room was ripe with activity. The Quidditch team had beaten Gryffindor by an utter landslide (250-110), so it was only appropriate for them to throw a huge party to celebrate. The team were in the middle of the room, surrounded by their most loyal band of lovestruck followers, as they drowned in all sorts of alcoholic beverages.

Spheres of magical light littered the high ceiling, glittering like stars and creating an eerily green glow as they reflected off of the murky waters of the Black Lake. The seating areas had been cleared, and in place was a makeshift dancefloor of sorts, filled to the brim with students dancing, singing and laughing to whatever music was playing on a stereo that Blaise had brought in from his Ravenclaw friends.

You were stood against a wall beside Pansy, who was busy glaring at the girl who had draped herself against Theo's arm as he laughed heartily at something Enzo had said. Your best friend was seething with jealousy, but she was far too stubborn to do anything about her feelings for your Italian friend.

The two of them had been dancing around their feelings for months; it was downright infuriating.

"I don't understand why you won't do something about it, Pans!" You say to her loudly, so that your voice could be heard over the earshattering bass music. "I'm getting sick of the back and forth between the two of you!"

Pansy finally takes her eyes off of the floppy haired brunette, who is now whispering in the ear of the girl, with a suggestive smirk on his face. "I'd say the same for you." She scoffs and you turn to her with furrowed brows.

"Oh don't act dumb." Pansy says with a laugh as she turns towards you fully, the drink in her hand sloshing over the rim of the cup as she does. "I see the way you look at Matt. You're very obvious. Both of you are."

"I don't know what you're talking about." You say reluctantly, taking a lengthy sip of your firewhiskey to avoid her knowing look.

Had your affections for your friend really been so blatant?

And did he really return them?

You turn towards the middle of the room and the liquid in your cup is suddenly drained to empty as you watch Mattheo dance closely behind a pretty Hufflepuff girl.

You and Pansy return to your mutual solitude, letting your friends revel in their win against their greatest rival, while simultaneously becoming more and more drunk, the more you watch as Theo and Mattheo obliviously break your hearts some more.

~∞~

It's much later into the night, and the party has not died down. In fact, it only seems to have gotten busier as more and more people from the other houses joined in on the debauchery.

You are so drunk. Practically stumbling along behind Pansy as she drags you to and from the dance floor to get more drinks. The two of you are dancing on each other, her hips grinding against your's to the beat of the music as you both giggle tipsily. You're unaware of your surroundings and have surely pissed off many other partiers with your drunken moves. But it doesn't bother either of you, content to enjoy each other's company, until there is a presence behind you that has Pansy smirking cheekily at you.

You narrow your eyes at her, vision hazy as you feel hands cradle your waist, almost possessively. Looking up, you come face to face with the underside of Mattheo's sharp jaw as he says something to Pansy that you don't comprehend. Whatever he says has her disappearing into the crowd, leaving you to his mercy.

"Hello, Princess." He mumbles lowly, mouth brushing against the soft shell of your ear, causing a shiver to run down the length of your spine.

"Matty! Hi." You say, voice slightly slurred and you grimace at how drunk you sound. He only smirks before he's gently spinning you to face him.

"Haven't seen you since the start of the match. 'S been ages." He replies, voice raspy from how much he'd shouted and cheered during and after the match.

"It's not been that long." You say with a teasing smile as you take in his appearance. In place of the emerald quidditch robes he'd been sporting that afternoon, he's wearing a dark, black t-shirt which stretches tightly across his torso, emphasising his Beater physique and a pair of dark trousers drapes over strong legs. Your observation is slow and purposeful and the smirk on his face widens even further as you admire him more openly then you ever have before.

He's chuckling to himself and then says something that you can barely hear over the loud music that reverberates through the room. But the cadence of his voice and the way they almost seem to have been hissed out in a way you do not understand, makes you tilt your head to the side as he smiles.

"What did you just say?" You ask him, or rather shout so that he can hear you. He copies you with a tilt of his head as he looks down at you with his captivating onyx eyes.

He repeats it again, his hands tightening against your waist when you stumble slightly as someone jostles you in an attempt to get past, smirking when your face scrunches in confusion.

"Are you speaking parceltongue or am i really drunk?" You ask, your hands coming to rest against his firm chest when you were pushed into him.

"Gods, Princess. How much have you had to drink?" He asks with gleaming eyes. It's the mischief in them that has you opening your mouth in feined outrage.

"You were speaking parceltongue!" You accuse and he lets out a laugh as you lightly whack his chest. "What did you say!?"

"Now why would I tell you that?" He replies, his face leaning closer to your's. You can smell the alcohol on his hot breath, mingling with your own and you can feel every breath he takes as it fans across your face.

"Because I'm your best friend?" You say with a smirk as you unconsciously wrap your arms around his neck, leaning on your tip toes slightly so that you can be at eye level with him. The move has your hips brushing against his. You swear his eyes darken as you do.

"Theo's my best friend." He says in a tone of faux obviousness, mischief laced in his rough voice.

"But I'm your favourite, right? If you admit it, I promise that Teddy will never know. It can be our little secret, Matty." You tease and he's laughing again, before he says something else in that strange, reptilian voice, eyes flicking from you eyes to your lips.

You've always been my favourite, darling.

The ways his eyes sparkle, despite the harshness of the sounds against his tongue have you acting upon instinct as you surge forward and press your lips to his. It's as magical as you've always imagined, despite it being tainted by your twin inebriation. But you'll take what you can get.

Because Mattheo Riddle is finally kissing you and you reckon you could fall into a abyss of happiness as his pillowly lips caress your's with loving grace.

~∞~

The next morning, you wake up in an unfamiliar, yet familiar dorm room and Enzo is smirking at you with glee. A tanned, muscular arm is draped across your middle and you're using the other as a makeshift pillow. Your face warms as you recognise the large, veiny hand that stretches across your stomach.

"Fun night?" Your friend asks with a snicker and you flip him off in response. He leaves the room after he's done teasing you, his loud laughter echoing in the corridor. You move to stand but an arm tightens around the skin of your waist.

"Where do you think you're going, Princess?" Mattheo mumbles, his voice low and raspy from sleep.

"Well good morning, sunshine." You reply, a smile spreading across your face as you turn to face him, to find that he is already staring at you, with adoration in his onyx eyes.

"Am I still dreaming, or are you really in my bed right now?" He asks as you trace a finger lightly over his naked chest.

"Oh it's very real. And I'm sure Enzo has already told the others what he just discovered." You reply with a giddy laugh.

"About bloody time, don't you think?" Mattheo's question is muffled against the skin of your neck as he nuzzles his face there. You smile in response, giggling as pieces of his curly hair brush against your soft skin.

"I'd still like to know what you said last night." You say but he doesn't give you the answer. Instead, he rolls the two of you so that you lie beneath his toned body, strong arms caging you in.

"That's my little secret, Princess." He mumbles as he presses languid kisses down your neck and chest, travelling lower until your rendered a moaning mess beneath him.

[bloodstainedsapphic]

Mattheo's Nurse

my own take on a favorite trope - healing mattheo after one of his many, many fights. for @thatdammchickennugget's hogmarch challenge, the prompt i went off of was 'why do you do this for me? are you sure you're not in love with me?'

1.2k words | suggestive content | minors dni | f!reader implied

Becoming Mattheo Riddle's personal nurse was not part of your grand plan. However, an incidental run-in where you tended to him after a courtyard scuffle led him to recognize you as possibly the only person who would help him with concern devoid of judgment. That's how you fell into a routine of him 'just happening' to appear wherever you were settled, weaponizing his puppy eyes until you eventually agreed to patch up his wounds in order to minimize his visits to the hospital wing.

Mattheo had come to your dorm room tonight, causing you to let out a dramatic sigh, wordlessly directing him to sit on your desk chair while you fetched your ever-expanding collection of first-aid supplies.

As you inspected his marred knuckles with a light touch, he winced from the pain at the pressure points. There was some swelling, discoloration, and a hefty set of cuts all over his one fist. The drying blood along his joints seemed not to be his own.

"Oh, stop that," you chided him over his complaints. "Shouldn't you be used to the ache at this point? Damn masochist, aren't you," you continued, poking fun at Mattheo while casting 'glacius' on the water packs you had gathered just for this reason.

In response to your ribbing, Mattheo playfully bit his inner cheek, his expression shifting from pained to something more suggestive.

"You'd like that, I'm sure," he quipped. His eyes narrowed, trying to persuade yours to meet his as you applied the ice pack to his scratched hand. "You make quite the nurse," he continued, his voice dripping with flirtation. "And quite the sight, too. Seeing your pretty face distracts me from any wounds to my dignity. You think candy stripers are still a thing? Might be easier to tend to me in a shorter skirt," he added while his less injured hand found a comfortable resting spot where your waist met your hip.

"A better patient would stop causing such a distraction," you countered swiftly, deliberately avoiding that very gaze because you knew how quickly you would fold for the magnetism of his deep brown eyes. Yet, your actions defied your attitude as you allowed his hand to remain where it rested, his fingers curling slightly against the fabric of your clothing, which sent a shiver up your spine.

Mattheo smirked, indicating just how much he wanted to acknowledge what you both felt.

"Let me guess. You don't just carry around medical supplies because you want to play doctor," he mused. "I think you're helping me weekly because you're in love with me," he wiggled his brows, confident in his suggestion.

Your cheeks flushed with embarrassment, silently conceding to the truth in his words but unwilling to admit it. Instead, you quickly regain your composure, lightly patting his cheek before adopting a more serious expression. "Hush, you're being disorderly. I can't fix you up with all this chatter," you scolded playfully, feigning annoyance.

Mattheo hissed, his eyes scrunching shut, reigniting your helper mode out of fear you had touched another sore spot. The guilt was short-lived, however, when the prick turned his head in both directions to show a bruise forming along the other side of his cheek, not the one you had touched. He just wanted to tease you, prompting you to retaliate with an additional pat out of spite on the uninjured cheek.

"Stop this. Remember, your life is in my hands; don't forget," you quipped snippily.

"Regardless of your consistent threats to my life, every time I come to you for help, I’m choosing to put my trust in you because you have feelings for me. And that's also why you're avoiding looking at me," he countered with a smug attitude, correctly assuming that this would finally get you to lock eyes with him. Which you did; looking right into his eager gaze paired with long lashes of everyone's envy. Even the few curls splayed over his forehead added to the appeal that despite him just coming from another bloody fight, you had to utilize every ounce of willpower to avoid melting at his ability to switch from intimidating to irresistible in an instant.

"Also, as my nurse, I’m surprised you don't know the cure-all to any injury," Mattheo begins again, and you suspect more nonsense is about to spill out.

You couldn't help but scoff. "What would that be?"

"A kiss."

You were utterly undone. "Bloody hell," you muttered, blushing profusely before deciding to indulge him this one time. You wouldn't quite treat him to some lip action, however. So instead of giving in entirely, you placed a small, modest peck on the tip of his nose.

The giddy expression that overcame him was worth it to see, but Mattheo, being himself, couldn't resist being a little greedy and pushing his luck further.

"Oh, on the nose? That only gets me halfway there," he complained with mock concern.

You could only smirk. Mattheo seemed to know better despite all attempts to convince him otherwise, which wasn't surprising given how perceptive he was. That, coupled with your consistent fumbling and his astute observation of your unwavering willingness to help him every time. Still, you weren't ready. While Mattheo's charm did get him quite far in leaving a lasting impression on you, you also knew that relinquishing yourself to the growing feelings would entangle you with the rest of his troubles, just as he would with yours. For now you'd prefer to let it simmer rather than dive right in. However, it didn't hurt to fantasize about how it would go.

For example, giving into the desire that your entire body ached for, to crawl into his lap and crash your lips against his. You longed to taste the metallic tang lingering from his blood-stained bottom lip that stirred with the scent of his cigarette addiction. You wanted to experience the absolute bliss that the softness of those pillowy lips would guarantee, all the while feigning surprise that this hardened bad boy could have any soft spots at all.

You craved to feel the hands responsible for splitting countless jaws roam your body with an unprecedented level of adoration, letting him fondle every last curve to ensure he learned all of it. You wanted him to discover all of your weak spots and master the art of caressing them in such a way as to elicit endless waves of pleasure every time. You yearned for him to possessively grope your ass, keeping yourself pressed to him as closely as possible while his other hand held the back of your head to draw out your kisses. His touches would solidify you as his, not just as his 'nurse' but in every sense that someone could belong to another.

Snapping yourself from drifting thoughts, you managed to deflect under the guise of needing to retrieve more supplies for an additional small cut you had overlooked. You came back, and despite your hesitancy, you wanted to leave Mattheo with a glimmer of hope.

"Tell you what," you started. "Let your hands heal so they can be of full use, and I'll grant you the other half of that kiss."

"Atta girl. That I can do," he grinned triumphantly.

"Yes, yes, now hold still so I can properly heal you."

[doremimosasol]

𝐓𝐨 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 - 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐨𝐝𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐭 𝐎𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭 ☆

warnings: suggestive but nothing too much

word count: 1,5 k

summary: in the desperation of a better grade for potions you find the perfect solution: Theodore Nott

@thatdammchickennugget ‘s Hogmarch challenge prompt 1

Potions class — you dreaded that class for the whole week just for it to be the last class on Friday. It's not that you just hated it, you absolutely despised it. Never passing any assignment, constant ridiculous remarks of Snape, the chills of the cold dungeon… You even began to wonder whether Professor Snape was the problem and not you. Everyone passed this class except for you, while you were the one who tried your utmost best.

You were beyond frustration, right now there was only despair left. As someone who scored top in almost every single class, a fail for potions was heavy on the heart. There was no denying it, you spent sleepless nights in hopes of improvement. Nothing, all hard work once again for nothing.

The Slytherins always scored top-class. Was it because they were good, or were they just favored? Snape couldn't possibly fail his precious Slytherins, of course not.

It was a rough week, the middle of winter, and now to top it off some more freezing in the cold dungeons for goddamn potions. How you wish you could just speed up time during these moments, to watch the minutes on the clock pass by faster.

You sat bored behind your desk, resting your head on your palm as you listened to the constant rattling of the teacher. Something about a new assignment. Why even try when you knew he'd fail you again like always? "... and it will be performed as pairs. Choose your partner wisely, no switching after today.”

Pairs? At the sound of that, you instantly lifted your head to find the familiar face of none other than Theodore Nott. It seemed as if his friends had already formed pairs and he was left standing, alone. He didn't look all too offended, just waiting for someone to approach him.

This was your chance. Finally, a chance to up your grades. Theodore Nott was the solution to your failing mark.

Without even thinking, you sprang up from your seat and approached him. You gave him a small poke in the side of his arm, his eyes looking up at you. You never noticed how mesmerizing his eyes were until right at this moment, it caught you off guard slightly. "Mind if we work together?"

He slightly frowned at your question, you two never spoke so this was honestly surprising to him. He looked around to see everyone partnered up already "Seems I'm left with no choice but to choose you." His brows were playfully arched as he looked back up at you.

Polyjuice potion. It wasn't an easy assignment, something that'd take weeks to brew. Which also meant weeks of working together. Snape explained that they didn't need to be strong, just for a minute; changing into the other.

"Make polyjuice potion." It was the only instruction that you got. Forced to find the recipe yourself, the ingredients, and a place to brew too. It was far from easy but at least you were smart enough to find a talented partner.

Theo had everything planned out; he made a schedule and found a place to brew. It was his own dorm but it was perfect, it was a large room and surprisingly cozy.

To your surprise, he used a lot of candles in his room. A lot of books lay scattered around too, from all different kinds. You often tried to read the titles, something Italian, while he made fun of your pronunciation. He corrected you, little did he know that was your goal: to hear him speak that lovely Italian language.

It was late at night when both of you decided to go look for some Lacewing flies in the woods. You didn't add enough in the beginning, which could mess up the ultimate potion.

"You know y/n, you aren't that bad after all. I can't deny I dreaded working with you, wondering why the hell you chose me as your partner. But you surprised me, in a good way." He looked down at you while you were next to him, looking around for some flies.

"Well, to be honest, I just wanted a good grade. That's why I chose you. You could say..." You thought for a moment before softly chuckling "…I used you to my advantage?" When you looked back up at him, he didn't seem all surprised.

"Is it that, or is it because you're in love with me?"

Huh? What was he even saying? In love? With Theodore Nott? No way.

Looking back on the past few weeks, you looked back on the feeling you got around him. The feeling you're having right now.

Like you can't breathe but feel like you're breathing better than ever before.

Like there's a whole storm going on inside your stomach.

The soft touches he gave you these last few weeks; touching your wrist, the small of your back, patting your head when you were doing something right.

The way your heart made a little jump when he said your name or when he called you princess. The little praises he gave once in a while.

Reflecting on those weeks, your heart almost dropped. Could it be that you were in love? Was that love? Was he in love with you? Why did he even ask that? He must be in love with you, right? No...?

"Ah, I hit right bullseye. I knew it! You are in love with me, isn't that right?" It startled you when you suddenly hit his hard chest. He must've just spawned in front of you or something. It was when you looked up that you noticed the look in his eyes.

You saw something flicker in his eyes when you didn't respond to that question he asked. Just when you wanted to open your mouth to say something he already covered it with his. A kiss?

A kiss?!

No response from your side, just eyes wide open and stiff like a statue. He tried to get some sort of reaction out of you by cupping your face with both of his hands but nothing at all. No reaction, just a deer in headlights.

"Come on y/n, try that again. I like a bit of enthusiasm." He pouted in a joking manner.

He pulled your face closer, caressing your cheeks with both of his thumbs before moving lower until one of them reached your top lip. He caressed the cupid bow before moving to your lower lip, slowly dragging it downwards. "I want you to kiss me back with those precious lips, princess. Please?"

He moved his lips closer, his breath fanning yours like a soft breeze in summer. "For those good grades, I'll be giving you, mhmm?"

You pulled back and now it was your turn to mess with him. "Well I don't see those good grades yet, do I? Guess I'll have to wait for some proof to kiss you back." You noticed some Lacewing flies a few steps ahead and approached them. "Let's go catch those flies for those good grades, shall we?"

He was dumbfounded. How could you have been so flustered some seconds ago to turn into such a tease now? But he would get you good grades, just for that kiss...

...and for that smile that now covered your face when Professor Snape announced the top grades. "Theodore Nott and y/n y/l/n."

He bumped your shoulder slightly at the announcement and whispered in your ear. "Guess who's getting a kiss tonight? Can't wait to taste those sweet lips of yours, princess. Have been craving them all week.”

And man did you both kiss... Hands in your hair, pushed against the wall of his dorm while working on the buttons of his shirt. He pulled away with a grin on his face. "A little eager now, are we?"

It took you by surprise when your feet left the ground and your back hit the mattress less than a second later. There was no time to respond before he had already crawled on top of you, his tongue devouring your mouth. You didn't even notice him pulling off your shirt and unclipping your bra until you felt his warm lips touching the middle of your chest.

His lips inched lower, leaving a wet trail in the middle of your chest. The warm touch sent shivers down your spine, this was new and you liked it. You liked him.

It felt like heaven. Being touched like this, being worshipped like this, you felt beautiful underneath the touch of his hands. This man knew what he was doing and there was no stopping him... It’s not like you wanted him to stop either, you wanted this to never end.

He looked up through his eyelashes with those piercing eyes, while sucking on your lower belly. "Do I have permission to show you heaven?"

And to heaven and back he brought you...

[amongemeraldclouds]

Firewhiskey Confessions

After drinking to cope with your heartbreak, you find a reliable confidante to spill your guts to. Except, he is not who he seems.

Soft!Mattheo Riddle x Reader

Warning: alcohol, fluff, no use of y/n

Author’s note: Just a silly idea, this is unserious. Official entry for @thatdammchickennugget's Hogmarch challenge, prompt 2.

✿ Masterlist | 810 words

I never drank. Obviously, anyone can do what they want with their kidneys. I just didn’t like the idea of slurring my words or tilting gravity for fun, and I preferred to keep my mind sharp.

And yet, my world had tilted anyway without alcohol to blame.

As for my sharp mind? Well, here at Mattheo’s birthday party, all that precious sharp mind has done is hack away at my heart. So screw it. I need a drink.

I grab a shot of firewhiskey as a tray passes by and down it in one gulp, wincing. Well, no one drinks alcohol for its taste. I shake it off and move to the nearest tray for another shot. 

Five shots in, I feel flushed and ready for gravity to tilt, a familiar occurrence at this point. I sneak off to another room when I see Mattheo greeting his guests, laughter pealing and glasses clinking. Everyone is having a great time. Yay! 

In the quiet of the receiving area, I wrap my arm across a coated gentleman for support. “Avoiding the party too, huh?”

When he doesn’t reply, I continue. “Well, don’t worry. I’m not judging you. You see I,” I say, pointing at myself for emphasis, “am avoiding Mattheo. Why did I come to his party only to avoid him, you ask? Well one might say, I don’t make very smart decisions.”

I blink, trying to catch my train of thought.

“You seem to be a very good listener,” I ponder, bringing my face closer to his shoulder since he’s too tall for me to reach his ear. “Can I tell you a secret? But ssshhhh you can’t tell anyone. It’s a secret.”

“I’m in love with Mattheo Riddle and I screwed it all up. Last week, he kissed me during a game of spin the bottle and I just knew there was nothing friendly about the kiss. So what did I do? Confess my long harbored feelings for my best friend like an emotionally intelligent woman?”

“Pssh, nah,” I wave it off.

“Remember, I don’t make smart decisions. What I did was ignore him for a week and then act like nothing happened. By the time I stopped ignoring him, he already had a girlfriend so I’m avoiding him again. I’ll spare you the details, but she’s wonderful. Can’t even hate her if I tried. They’re going to make gorgeous pureblood babies and live happily ever after. I’m so happy for them, but why couldn’t it have been me?” I hiccup.

“Answer me,” I poke at his side.

Instead, I hear an amused voice behind me. “Why are you talking to a coat?”

“I’m not talking to a coat, you’re talking to a coat,” I turn and point at…oh, Mattheo.

“Darling, why are you drinking?” He says, moving towards me.

I blink. “Why do you think I’m talking to a coat?”

“Because you are,” he deadpans. 

Oh. I step back and take a good look at my companion. I sway and Mattheo catches me. “Why do you hang your coats on mannequins instead of racks like everyone else?”

“In case you didn’t notice, I live in a mansion. Not like everyone else either,” he explains patiently like he’s talking to a child.

“Come on, you’re drunk. Let’s take you to my room to rest,” he says guiding me.

I focus my attention on staying upright. When we reach his room, he helps me lay down his bed and hands me a glass of water to help me sober up.

“How much of that did you hear?” I ask when my mind clears up a little.

“Do you want the truth or do you want to save yourself from embarrassment?” He asks.

I groan and bury my head in my hands.

He places a comforting hand on my shoulder. “Well if you must know, I don’t have very friendly feelings towards you either, it’s more than that. But when you started ignoring me, I thought you didn’t like me.”

I look at him then and tilt my head, confused.

“Darling, if you stopped avoiding me, I would have very easily told you that I’m only fake dating to help save a friend from a toxic ex-boyfriend,” he explains.

“Wait,” I feel the gears in my head spinning. It’s rusty, but we’re getting there. “So you don’t have a girlfriend and you’re in love with me too?”

“In short, yes,” he says gently.

“Huh,” I grin. “That worked out well, I should drink more.”

“Absolutely not,” Mattheo protests. And then, “really? That’s your takeaway?” He shakes his head, covering me with the blanket. 

I close my eyes with a satisfied smile and sink into the soft, cozy sheets. As I drift off to sleep, I distantly hear Mattheo say, “get rest, we’ll talk more tomorrow,” and faintly feel him kiss my forehead.

[thatdammchickennugget]

A Bloom For Every Shade

pairing - lorenzo berkshire x fem!reader

warnings - fluff, best friend!enzo, reader wears nail polish

a/n - week two of hogmarch, using the dialogue prompt "if I tell you something, you have to promise not to laugh"

wordcount - 1k

The first time it happened, you thought nothing of it.

It was a bright yellow daffodil, carefully tucked behind your ear as Enzo grinned and ruffled your hair like he hadn’t just completely melted your heart. You had laughed, rolling your eyes, because this was just what Enzo did. He was always doing small, sweet things—balancing books on his head in the library just to make you laugh, sneaking you chocolate frogs after a long day, somehow always knowing when you needed a distraction and dragging you out onto the Quidditch stands to watch the sky shift into golds and purples.

So yeah, a flower? Not unusual.

But then it happened again.

A periwinkle bluebell. A soft pink carnation was next. And each time, Enzo would appear out of nowhere between classes, a small, smug grin on his face as he tucked the flower behind your ear.

You thought it was just a weird little habit of his.

Until your friend pointed it out.

“You do realize he’s matching them to your nails, right?”

You blinked at her over your cauldron, confused. “What?”

She gave you a look, gesturing toward your hands. You glanced down at them. Your nails were painted in a soft lavender today, the color already slightly chipped from digging around the dirt in Herbology.

Then your fingers brushed against the delicate petals behind your ear.

You frowned, pulling it out to look at it properly. A violet. The exact same shade as your nails.

Your stomach flipped.

“No way,” you said, but your voice was weaker now.

Your friend just smirked. “I’ve seen him do it for weeks. I think it’s cute.”

Cute.

You swallowed, your mind suddenly racing. Because now that you thought about it, every flower Enzo had ever given you matched your nail polish exactly. And not just roughly—perfectly. Which meant he wasn’t just picking random flowers.

He was checking. Every morning.

You felt warm all over.

“Maybe it’s just a coincidence,” you mumbled.

She snorted. “Yeah, sure. And maybe Dumbledore doesn’t hide sweets in his beard.”

You didn’t respond. Because, well. What were you supposed to say?

That you had been helplessly, hopelessly in love with Enzo Berkshire for the better part of two years? That his stupid little flower habit was now making it infinitely worse?

Instead, you spent the rest of the day hyper-aware. Watching him when you thought he wasn’t looking. Noticing the way his gaze flickered down at your hands during breakfast. The way he disappeared between classes only to reappear with the exact right flower every time.

And then, because you were an absolute menace, you decided to test him.

That night, you painted each nail a different color.

Red. Blue. Yellow. Orange. Pink. Purple. Green. White.

The next morning, Enzo did his usual routine—casually greeting you, eyes flickering down to your hands. But this time, he hesitated. You bit back a grin, pretending not to notice the crease forming between his brows.

And then he disappeared.

All day, you waited. Watched for him between classes, in the halls, at lunch. But there was no flower.

Not until after dinner, when you were heading to the library.

You barely made it to the entrance before Enzo was in front of you, grinning like he had just won the House Cup, arms behind his back.

“Close your eyes,” he said.

You raised a brow. “Why?”

“Trust me.”

You huffed but did as he asked, feeling something soft press into your hands.

“Alright, open.”

When you did, your breath caught.

Because in your hands wasn’t just one flower. It was a whole bouquet.

A chaotic, mismatched collection of every color imaginable—poppies and cornflowers and buttercups and violets and daisies and peonies. Some were slightly wilted, clearly plucked from wherever he could find them. Others were vibrant and fresh, like he had really gone out of his way to track them down.

Your heart swelled.

“You—” Your voice faltered, eyes flickering up to meet his. “You really do match them.”

Enzo just grinned, rubbing the back of his neck. “Took you long enough to notice.”

Your chest felt impossibly warm, like it was about to burst. “Why?” you asked, voice quiet and gentle.

Enzo hesitated, the teasing glint in his eyes softening into something else—something quieter, something raw.

“If I tell you something,” he said slowly, “you have to promise not to laugh.”

Your breath hitched. You nodded. “I promise.”

He exhaled, glancing down before looking back at you with a crooked smile.

“I think I started doing it as an excuse,” he admitted. “At first, it was just something to make you smile. But then it became… I don’t know. A habit. Like I needed to do it. Like if I didn’t, something about my day would feel wrong.” His fingers tapped against his leg, a nervous tic you’d seen a hundred times before. “And maybe I kept doing it because… it was the only way I could say something without actually saying it.”

Your stomach flipped, something electric sparking in your chest.

“And what is it,” you asked softly, “that you’re trying to say?”

Enzo met your gaze, something so achingly fond in his expression that it made your breath catch.

“That I really, really like you,” he murmured. “And I have for a long time.”

Maybe it was the way he was looking at you, like you were the only thing that mattered. Maybe it was the way he had spent weeks doing this, all without saying a word. Or maybe it was just the way your heart had been aching for him for far too long.

But suddenly, you weren’t thinking anymore.

You stepped forward, tilting your chin up, and pressed your lips to his.

Enzo froze. Just for a second.

Then, his hands were on your waist, pulling you closer, kissing you back with a desperation that made your head spin.

When you finally pulled away, breathless, Enzo just stared at you, like he was trying to commit every inch of you to memory. Then he grinned.

“So,” he said, voice teasing, “does this mean I should start bringing you entire bouquets every day?”

You laughed, tucking one of the flowers behind his ear this time.

“Only if you want to,” you murmured.

Enzo smiled, pressing his forehead to yours.

“Always.”

Masterlist

Requesting Guidelines

[papercorgiworld]

Dance like it’s all real

Reader has a crush on James Potter, but when he hurts her she turns to none other than Regulus Black.

Fake dating trope: Reader x Regulus Black.

Read part 2 here: Truth be told

Lovely peoples of Tumblr, this is my contribution for the second week of Hogmarch! I’m not confident about this fic, but I enjoyed writing for three hours straight. I loved it. It was so fun! So thank you for that. Obviously, I hope you like it!

So happy readings to my darling readers!

“You know the only reason Tim hangs out with you so much is because he likes-”

Cut! 

Look, this is the moment where James Potter should have said. ‘you’. He should have said ‘the only reason he hangs out with you so much is because Tim likes you’ and then I could have accused him of being jealous and he would blush and I would finally know that he likes me too. But no… this is what he said instead:

“You know the only reason Tim hangs out with you so much is because he likes Lily. He doesn’t dare approach Lily because she’s way out of his league so he hangs with you in hopes of getting a chance to hang with her.” Your frown as you process James’ words. “Why can’t he hang out with me just because… you know… because of me? Because he likes me?”

James laughs and slings a lazy arm around you as you both continue walking. “Come on, (y/n). You’re one of the boys. Of course, he likes you. Everyone likes you. Just not in the way everyone likes Lily.” 

You can see Remus make a painful face, obviously expressing what you’re feeling. Leave it to James to accidentally stomp on your heart, stab it and throw it away without ever realising it. There’s a silence because you’re simply left speechless and too pained to start sobbing right there. 

The silence doesn’t last long enough for James to notice or Remus to speak up, because Sirius and Peter who had spent the past hour in detention appeared at the end of the hallway much to James’ joy. “Padfoooooot!” Sirius jumps up and down happily. “Prongggss!” Normally you would giggle at the ridiculous overjoyment of your friends, but something had snapped in you and you felt like you would never feel light again. 

“Would it help if I told you that he didn’t mean it like that?” Remus offered now that it was just the two of you. “No. I’m done with him.” Your voice was so cold that it took Remus by surprise. You had said those words to yourself a million times, but never out loud which meant that this time you had to stick by them.

“Padfoooooooooot!” 

“Prooooongggss!”

You rolled your eyes. There was nothing cute about these imbeciles anymore.

“Padfoooooo-” 

“Oi!” You yelled, surprising yourself. Your heartbeat immediately elevates while your cheeks flush, but at least you had their attention. “Not all of Hogwarts is interested in the fact that you two have been reunited after being an hour apart!”

James’ eyes widened and Sirius’ excitement disappeared. “Don’t be so dramatic.” James shrugs with a nonchalant snort. “I’m dramatic?-” You were about to give James a piece of your mind, but you swallow your words when a group of Slytherins enter the hallway. Even though no words were said, they clearly sensed the tension. Either that or they overheard some of the yelling.

You were too angry at James to notice Regulus’ amused smirk at your fury. When Regulus passed James, he simply couldn't resist. “Trouble in paradise, Potter?” Confusion and then annoyance filled James’ eyes, but you were more focused on Regulus' satisfied smirk as he eyed you before turning around the corner. 

You scoff and decide to just turn on your heels, reminding yourself that you were done with James Potter.

***

Regulus was a master of noticing details but this was clear to everyone with eyesight and it pleased him so much. You avoided James like the plague. Often leaving your friends and abruptly ending conversations to get away from him as soon as he approached. 

In Regelus’ book James was the most obnoxious person to ever live and he couldn’t wrap his head around why people liked him so much, but it was the fact that Sirius considered James a real brother that really stung. Yet it wasn’t until he saw your hurt that Regulus decided to really spite James.

So one sunny afternoon in the courtyard when Regulus sees you get up from your seat next to Marlene to probably go hide in the library, he excuses himself from his friends to catch up with you.

The castle was near-empty since everyone was outside and you took a deep sigh, pitying your loneliness. “If you’re only gonna hang out with people that James doesn’t hang out with you’ll be thin on friends really soon.” You spun around to see a smug Regulus approaching. Hanging out with the marauders had meant that you had barely spoken to the slytherin now in front of you and you felt a bit hostile. “I’ve got plenty of friends, thank you.” 

Regulus nods slowly. “So you’ll be going to the Spring Drink witthh?” He tilted his head tauntingly waiting for an answer that he already knew. 

Snake.

“It’s gonna suck this year anyway.” You blurted, not fooling anyone with your fake indifference.

Regulus needs to force his lips into a line to hide his smile, but returns to his smug composure in seconds. “I promise you it will not.” Your eyes watch him carefully as you try to figure out where he’s getting at. “I’ll pick you up around two.”

Baffled, you watched him casually turn around and go back to the courtyard. 

***

“Regulus?” Remus questioned. You nodded. “Regulus Black?” James squeaked. “Regulus Black, my brother?” Sirius clarified the question unnecessarily. You nodded again. “Why?” Peter asked like he was solving a mystery beyond human comprehension. “Because he’s cute.” Lily answered, making you panic a little. “No, it’s not like that.” Marlene turns away from her book to look at you questioningly. “Then what’s it like?” You felt like it would be embarrassing to just explain how he never really asked and you just went along with it, so you just stood there silently as your cheeks started to heat up. “My brother’s cute?” It suddenly hits Sirius as he turns away from you to focus on Lily, making Lily and Marlene laugh.

“Hey (y/n), your date’s at the door.” Someone announced and your eyes widened at the word date, but instead of dealing with the looks of your friends you just hurried to the door.

You’re welcomed by a smirking slytherin and you honestly can’t name the feeling it gives you. “You look… like you’ve seen a ghost?” Regulus’ words of observation are gentle, but still make you frown in annoyance. However, you couldn’t deny that your friends had very much confused you about this whole afternoon. You stop on your walk out to just ask what it’s all about. “Are we on a date?” 

Regulus shoves his hands in his pockets as he considers your question. “Do you want it to be a date?” You open your mouth, but close it again to then eventually protest his response. “What kind of question is that?” Regulus chuckles and it sounds so soft that you immediately feel at ease. 

“How about you figure out what you want it to be and tell me at the end of the… day, or date? You choose.” This time his smile isn’t smug, it’s sweet and playful. 

Seeing Regulus hung in different circles than you and your friends did, he introduced you to a lot of new people. You were surprised how much he was like his brother when chit-chatting to people, only a little more reserved but with a shrewdness in every word. You were getting more and more absorbed by Regulus by the minute and you didn’t even mind. It was a lovely spring day, it was sunny and you got to spend it with someone that made you feel like you were more than just one of the boys.

“Drink?” Regulus turns to you and your smile widens, your glass had only been empty for a moment but he had noticed immediately. You never caught him but you knew his eyes were on you almost all the time. You nod and a gentle hand brushes the small of your back to signal which direction to go. On your way to one of the tents, spread around the castle grounds and functioning as small bars, you caught James staring and looking anything but pleased. Of course this didn’t go unnoticed by Regulus either. 

“I know curiosity killed the cat, but what’s the story?” Regulus asks, leaning closer to you in a way that makes you feel safe. You feel a strong desire to tell him everything, but the curiosity in his eyes betrays him. “Is that why you asked me out? My argument with James?” Regulus’ eyes focus on yours as he figures out his approach to you now that he’s been caught. “Isn’t that the reason you want it to be a date?” 

Now you feel a little caught and you stop walking, making it clear to Regulus you felt bad about the whole situation. “I didn’t ask you to spend the day with me because of James. I wanted to spend the day with you because he has a tendency to take the people around him for granted. You don’t deserve to be taken for granted, (y/n).”

You carefully consider his words and he gives you a soft smile. “Spend the day with me. Spend the week with. Teach him a lesson.” At those last words you notice his signature smugness return. “What’s in it for you?” You ask not hiding your interest in his offer, but also being careful not to thrust a slytherin to be selfless. 

Regulus’ tongue roams his mouth with amusement and confidence, before he gently pulls you against his chest. His lips slowly move to your ear as his eyes steal a glance of the audience to confirm his suspicion. “The look on your friends’ faces.” His whisper sends shivers down your spine as you slightly turn your head to see a shocked Sirius and a very unamused James. However, the feeling of seeing James like that didn’t compare to the feeling Regulus gave you holding you so close.

As Regulus allowed a little space between you two, you pushed any suspicious feelings away. “So this is a date then?” Your question verbally signed the deal. A satisfied smile tugged on Regulus’ lips. “One of many I believe. Now let’s go for a fly, just the two of us.”

Needless to say, you holding Regulus Black tightly as you flew off for some alone time was the topic of Hogwarts gossip that week.

***

As soon as your foot landed on the green grass of the quidditch field you knew all eyes were on you, but it didn’t matter because only one set of eyes counted. 

Were you aware of the feelings building up over the weeks that passed? Yes. 

Were you in too deep to get out? Also yes. 

Quidditch training was fun, but the tradition of spending the evening with you was even better. “Quit it with heart-eyes, Reg!” Barty yelled as he flew just above Regulus’ head, making Regulus roll his eyes and fly down to you.

Should he have never let it last for weeks? Yes.

Did he know that spending hours and hours with you would become addictive? Not until it was too late.

It was bitter sweet how with each kiss it pained you more that it wasn’t real and yet you kissed him more eagerly every time. “How was training?” You ask, placing an arm around his neck before locking lips. “Every time.” You could hear James mope in the background as the gryffindor team arrived from training. “So disturbing.” Sirius sighed. “I think they're cute.” Peter added, earning him a little shove. 

“Jealous Potter?” Marlene laughed, you couldn’t care less but Regulus’ eyes flung open mid kiss. His biggest nightmare was James actually being jealous and doing something about it. As confident as he was, Regulus was not ready to compete with James over you. He had already lost a brother to the loud gryffindor, he couldn't bear the thought of losing you as well… even though, in truth he didn’t really have you. It was all fake. It felt more and more like the lesson Regulus wanted to teach James was turning into a lesson in humility for himself.

“Everything alright?” Your worried eyes scan Regulus' face, while you play with the strands of hair in his neck. “Yes, fine love, I just need a quick shower.” With a quick peck on the lips he leaves you standing like a fool in love.

“You’ve got it bad.” Lily sings as she joins you on the field. You shake your head, but don’t bother hiding your smile. “So weird.” Lily blurs, while still smiling sincerely happy for you. “What do you mean weird?” You lock arms with her and walk to the stands, studying her face for answers. “I mean Regulus? You guys are soooo cute together, but I would’ve never guessed. I always thought you would end up with James.” 

James’ name rang in your head as you watched him fly and when he caught you watching he winked. Is he still the same fool that takes me for granted? That doesn’t notice me? Do I still like James? Do I love Regulus?

“Hi, dreamy.” Soft lips kiss your cheek and you turn to kiss Regulus’ lips. “Let’s go.” You get up and wave goodbye to Lily. 

The castle looked even more enchanting then it was now that the sun was setting. “You’re silent?” You questioned Regulus, bumping into him softly and squeezing his hand to get him out of his thoughts. “Dance with me?” It wasn’t a whisper, but his voice was delicately light. “Wha-?” 

“Come on.” With a quick move he lifted your hand up and spun you around. You let it happen. You loved it. You fell into his arms and smiled like a girl in love and damn he loved that sight.

You took a few steps, dancing without music, he spun you around again and it all felt real.

Dance like it’s all real.

Picture source: https://pin.it/21WURQxC3 + https://pin.it/69OJi8Aub

[iniquitousyearning]

theodore nott • may i have this dance?

info: smallish blurb for @thatdammchickennugget’s hogmarch challenge. prompt four. (i know im a day late lol sorry mari ily)

summary: theodore told everyone that dances weren’t his thing and decided he wasn’t going to attend the yule ball. when you agreed to go with cormac, he realized that he’d made a big mistake, and was there for you when you needed him most.

tags: soft and fluffy. shitty cormac per usual.

You should have seen it coming.

You should have damn well known that accepting Cormac's half-assed invitation to the Yule Ball was practically signing up for one thing and one thing only:

a one-way ticket to misery.

The sting of his abandonment wasn’t even the worst of it--though it did occur almost immediately, sneaky bloke somehow managing to slither off before Dumbledore even had the chance to make it to the podium to give the opening fucking speech.

Truthfully, you probably could have gotten over that. With enough drinks, that is.

The real kicker came after the bewildering manner in which he vanished into the ether. The moment he reappeared all the same, as if nothing had even happened, accompanied now by your ex-best friend, clinging to his arm like a fucking lifeline.

His smirk, so brazenly triumphant, seemed to stretch wider than the chasm between you, swallowing up his entire face in a painfully irritating display of mockery and betrayal as he shot you an infuriating wink from across the room, leading your friend through the crowd and into position for the first slow dance.

That was it. There was no goddamn way you were staying in that cursed room for even a millisecond longer.

If not for your ironclad resolve, you were fully convinced you would have set the entire room ablaze in a whirlwind of rage as you stormed out.

Yet, as you downed nearly half the flask of firewhiskey you had concealed beneath your flowing emerald green gown, a profound epiphany struck you: that wretched excuse for a human being didn't merit even a fraction of your emotional investment.

What he truly warranted, from the depths of your seething soul, was a resounding void of utter insignificance.

And with that realization burning in your chest, you pivoted on your heels and pushed your way through the throng, feigning ignorance to Pansy's concerned calls and Mattheo's mocking gaze as he reached out to grasp your arm, undoubtedly ready to ridicule you for being left high and dry before the first damn dance.

Your friends had warned you of this inevitable outcome, but your stubbornness had clouded your ears to their warnings.

You live and you learn, right?

"Wrong," Mattheo, Theodore, Enzo, Blaise, and Draco would have most definitely retorted in unison.

You could practically hear it in the recesses of your mind as you pushed through the large double doors and out into the warm spring breeze flowing through the corridor. They would have reminded you that sometimes it pays to heed the advice of someone who's walked the same path, that perhaps they were genuinely trying to watch out for you for once.

Of course, you would have simply scowled and rolled your eyes in response. You didn't need advice from anyone, definitely not them. Although…it certainly would have paid off to listen just this once…

Just then, in that fleeting moment of mental pondering, an intriguing thought popped into your mind;

Perhaps, just perhaps; you were the problem here.

…..No. Nope. Not even close.

You forcefully dismissed that nagging notion the very second it dared to intrude. No, you couldn’t, and simply wouldn’t entertain the idea that you were at fault here.

The reason you were making a hasty exit from the Yule Ball before the first dance had even commenced, the reason the echo of your black heels striking the cobblestones beneath them reverberated throughout the damp and desolate corridor, was solely because of Cormac.

If you were the problem, you’d be the one in there dancing with whomever you pleased, paying no mind to the feelings of others. Your Yule Ball evening was over. And not even the combined efforts of Godric Gryffindor, Professor Snape, Salazar Slytherin and Filch's bloody cat could have kept you from fleeing.

But in truth, if you were being completely real with yourself, you weren’t even all that bummed. A very large part of you didn’t even want to partake tonight.

Perhaps that was due to the fact that the man you longed to accompany the dance with had adamantly declared his aversion to such festivities, and simply decided not to attend.

But that’s neither here nor there at this point.

As you reached the threshold of the courtyard, your gaze fell upon the breathtaking scene unfolding before you: a moonlit evening enveloped in a torrential downpour, each raindrop hammering against the emerald expanse of grass with relentless force.

It was as tragically beautiful as it was suiting.

And as you were lost in the beauty of nature's fury, you were startled by a husky voice slicing through the stillness, calling out your name from down the hall. Nearly leaping out of your own damn skin, your head snapped to the side, your eyes meeting those of a tall, strikingly handsome Italian man striding purposefully towards you.

"Hey," Theodore called out, his voice gentle yet determined, "Wait up."

You rolled your eyes before you could even stop yourself. Force of habit.

“I saw you leaving,” he continued, his steps quickening as he closed the distance between you. “Are you okay?”

You met his concerned gaze with a raised eyebrow, a hint of sass colouring your reply, "don’t I look okay to you?"

Theodore's gaze caressed you, hunger evident in his half-lidded eyes as they roamed over your form with a blend of admiration and concern. Barely audible, a curse slipped from his lips in Italian before he locked eyes with you once more, a palpable shift in the intensity of his gaze.

"You look more than okay, Bella," he murmured, taking a single step closer. “Doesn’t mean you feel it.”

Your breath caught in your throat, your heart quickening its pace in response to his proximity. As Theodore’s words washed over you, a shiver ran down your spine, your skin tingling with the heat of his gaze.

This was the man you’d longed to attend the dance with tonight. The one who swore he’d never take part in such idiocy. Standing before you, clad in an all black suit.

You didn’t even have a thought to question it—to question him—on what the hell he was doing here, dressed like that—because as you stood there, your temperature rising, you met his eyes, a mixture of vulnerability and longing swirling within your own.

“Maybe not,” you whispered, your voice barely above a breath, “but somehow…you make it hard to feel anything else.”

Theodore's lips curved into a knowing smile, and his tongue darted out to wet them, his eyes locking with yours in silent understanding.

"Then maybe," he murmured, his voice low and intimate, "we should find a way to make you feel everything."

Your entire body froze in place as Theodore slowly extended his hand towards you, the world around you fading into insignificance as if time itself had paused, as if someone had cast a spell on the clock. Almost entirely speechless, you found yourself unable to tear your gaze away from his, the anticipation thick in the air as the distant strains of a slow dance song filtered through the corridor, emanating from the Yule Ball.

With a gentle smile, Theodore broke the silence, his voice barely above a whisper, "may I have this dance?"

As your lips parted to respond, a whirlwind of emotions danced across your face, your eyes flickering between his outstretched hand and the captivating depths of his gaze. A mischievous grin tugged at the corners of your mouth, your usually sassy self left utterly speechless, and with deliberate slowness, you surrendered your hand to his, relishing in the warmth that flooded your senses as he drawed you closer and into his embrace.

Theodore’s hands found their place on your waist with a gentle yet firm grip, pulling you closer to him as if to reassure you of his presence. You reciprocated by resting your palms on his shoulders, feeling the heat emanating from his body, its intensity seeping through the fabric of his suit jacket, igniting a tingling sensation in your fingertips.

You let your eyes trace a path up his strong chest, taking in the subtle rise and fall of his breath beneath the fabric of his shirt. It was then that you noticed the emerald silk tie adorning his neck, its colour mirroring the rich hue of your dress almost perfectly.

Utterly mesmerized, you couldn’t comprehend the way this man had rendered you so bloody speechless. You’d never have expected any of this in a million years.

Finally, you managed to exhale, your voice barely above a whisper, “you…you matched my dress…”

Theodore’s eyes softened as he looked down at you, a tender smile playing on his lips.

“Only because I knew you’d be wearing it,” he replied, his voice warm, a soft caress against your skin. “Cormac is a fucking idiot.”

A breathy laugh escaped your lips, mingling with the soothing melody of the rain and the gentle hum of the slow dance tune. You blinked, looking up at him through your lashes, finding yourself lost in the depth within the ocean of his eyes.

“You knew he’d ditch me,” you whispered, the words barely audible over the soft cadence of the music. As you watched Theodore’s eyes trace the curve of your lips, a flicker of realization dawned upon you. “You were betting on it.”

“I knew you deserved better,” he murmured, a soft swallow rippling through his throat as he spoke, his eyes shimmering beneath the dim glow of the moonlight filtering through the rain-soaked courtyard. “And I was hoping you’d see it too.”

“Why didn’t you try to stop me?” you whispered, your voice tinged with a hint of vulnerability.

You thought back on the advice from the others. All those times Theo was quiet, just watching. Listening.

Theodore’s expression softened, a rueful smile gracing his lips as he reached out to brush a stray strand of hair from your face. “Would you have listened, Bella?”

You could feel the subtle tension dissipate as Theodore's touch lingered on your cheek, and with a gentle swallow, you met his gaze, a playful glint dancing in your eyes as you considered his question.

"Perhaps not," you replied, your voice as teasing as the grin gracing your lips. “I am quite stubborn, aren’t I?”

Theo chuckled, and you were going to leave it at that, remain silent and enjoy the moment for what it was, but as your eyes found his once more, a surge of honesty flooded your senses, rendering you momentarily breathless. The subtle rise and fall of his chest, the way his lips curved up while donning that devilish smirk of his, the sensation of his thumb brushing against your cheek—it was simply all too much to ignore.

"But, you should know,” you confessed softly, "I truly only wanted to go with you."

Theodore blinked, his gaze flickering with surprise at your admission, as if he hadn't expected you to voice your feelings so openly. But there was no denying the electricity crackling in the air between you, a silent acknowledgment of the unspoken desires that had lingered beneath the surface for far too long. His fingers threaded gently through your hair, coaxing your face closer to his, and you couldn’t help but lean into his touch, feeling the warmth of his breath against your skin.

"Dances have never really been my thing, Bella..." his voice, a mere whisper, sent your limbs shuddering with nerves. Your fingers trembled slightly against his shoulders, the only anchor keeping you grounded in the intensity of the moment. "But I'd slow dance across the entire castle with you if you asked..."

Leaning closer, Theodore's breath mingled with yours, the warmth of his words sending a shiver down your spine. As he leaned closer, you could hear the subtle hitch in his breath, the tremor in his exhale.

"I was a fool...” as he hovered inches from your lips, you could feel the heat of his breath against your skin, the tension between you reaching its breaking point. “…for not mustering the courage to ask you myself.”

You wet your lips, your eyes bouncing all over his face, your entire body trembling with urgency, with need, with hunger. You’d hardly even heard his words at this point.

“Tell me, Bella…." he breathed, the words longing for an absolution only you could grant him. “Will you ever manage to forgive me?”

With a mischievous glint in your eyes, you leaned as close as you could possibly get, your lips just barely grazing against his, savouring the moment for every bloody second it had.

"Kiss me," you murmured through a grin, your voice barely above a whisper, "and perhaps…just perhaps, I'll find it in my heart to forgive you."

With that, he dipped low, two strong hands finding your face, capturing your lips with his, and you sighed, lids closing, reaching to forage into his hair. A soft exhale escaped him, the kiss deepening, and he cradled your head, holding you closer, his other hand falling to support your neck, thumb skimming your jaw.

You whined, joy glowing in your chest, and you eased against his body, the both of you melting into each other, melting into the moment, the sound of the rain and the rhythmic tune of the slowdance fading away in the foreground.

And as he slowly pulled away from the kiss, Theodore's eyes met yours again, blue orbs shimmering brighter than the moon.

"I’d spend a lifetime making it up to you," he vowed softly, urging your head to rest gently against his chest. "Starting with this dance."

[obsessedwithceleste]

Dancing With Our Hands Tied

Mattheo Riddle x Slytherin! reader

Prompt 4 of @thatdammchickennugget ‘s hogmarch challenge🫶🏽 and dedicated to this psychic anon request 💕

Summary: I’d kiss you as the lights went out, Swaying as the room burned down, I’d hold you as the water rushes in, If I could dance with you again.

word count: 4k

©️ obsessedwithceleste. all works posted here belong to me and should not be reposted or copied in any way or form.

You watch silently from across the Slytherin common room as yet another girl places her hand flirtatiously on Mattheo’s chest, batting her lashes with that seductive grin you knew all too well from watching all the other girls do it too.

“Go to the dance with me?” Her lips read as she leaned closer to your friend.

You can’t help but smile as Mattheo just rolls his eyes, moving away from the girl, not giving her more than a shake of his head.

The girl’s mouth hangs open in shock of the rejection. Really she should be flattered you thought dryly to yourself. She’d made it significantly further than others you’d witnessed.

Truth was, you’d had a massive crush on Mattheo since you were kids, and watching as he rejected girl after girl was much more entertaining than you cared to admit.

Growing up, you’d always admired his bold brashness, and willingness to say whatever came to mind. The two of you had always gotten into trouble together, bouncing mischievous ideas back and forth. The summer before coming to Hogwarts, your mother had given you a heart shaped locket, and Mattheo had insisted that a photo of the two of you go inside it.

"In case we don't go to the same house." The boy had reasoned.

But of course, he’d never seen you as anything more than a friend, and unfortunately, the cringey, cliche nature of the situation was not lost on you. Even now, as you mindlessly fingered the carefully disillusioned pendant while Mattheo stalked towards your group with an air of agitation.

“Bloody hell I can’t wait for this fucking Yule ball rubbish to be over and done with,” Mattheo states flatly as he sits down lazily on the sofa next to you.

“Just pick a girl to go with then. They’ll leave you alone if they think you have a date. Why do you think I asked Daph so early on?” Theo replies, not bothering to look up from his book.

Daphne whacks him with her textbook.

You watch as Mattheo tilts his head in consideration before his eyes shift over to you, a sly grin forming on his face.

“Don’t even think about,” you say, holding up your hand as if to block out whatever idiocy the boy was about to spew.

Now it’s Mattheo’s turn to open his mouth in shock.

“Wha- you don’t even know what I was gonna say!”

“You were going to ask me if I’d go to the dance with you,” you reply dryly. “Honestly Matt, I’m not stupid.”

“Well will you?” He asks, giving you his most charming smile.

“I’m already going with Blaise.” You respond.

Looking back, had it been a bit of a rash decision? Yes. But you had made peace with the fact that Mattheo likely wouldn’t ask you to be his date, and Blaise was one of your best friends. You knew you’d have a good time with him, and all your other friends had been pairing up.

“Tell Blaise to go with Astoria,” Mattheo reasons.

“Toria is already going with Enzo.” Daphne intervenes.

“What about Pansy?”

“She and Millicent got accosted by Crabbe and Goyle last I heard,” Theo replies.

“He can go with Draco then! People already mistake them for gay lovers anyway.”

“Matt, you know Draco is trying to muster up the courage to ask Harry. Don’t be dense.” You reply.

“Oh come on! How do you all have this sorted out already? The ball was only announced yesterday!”

“We organized it at dinner,” Daphne responds, as if the answer was obvious.

“You mean while I was in detention?” Mattheo asks incredulously, only to be met with a chorus of ‘yes’ and ‘mhms’.

You look over as your friend slumps into the sofa in defeat, a wave of slight guilt washing over you.

“Lighten up Matt, you’ve already been asked by a handful of girls today, you’ll be able to find someone to go with easy,” you say.

“Not with anyone who matters,” he grumbles, so low that you almost miss it.

A week had gone by and you were about to lose your mind. You thought that after the initial conversation in the common room, Mattheo would relent and just pick one of his many admirers to take to the ball. You really should’ve known better. You’d known the boy long enough to know that once he had his mind set on something, there was really nothing in the world that could stop him. You just never thought that you would be what he set his mind to.

“Matt, I’ve told you a million times, I’m already going to the ball with Blaise,” you groan, collapsing on your bed as the raven haired boy follows you into your dorm.

“Well lucky for you, I have the perfect plan to steal you away from ole Blaisey boy,” Mattheo says, his signature smirk in place.

You roll your eyes, leaning back on your bed as you wait for him to continue.

“It’s easy. You just have to date me,” Mattheo replies, as if his idea was particularly clever.

You let out a rather unattractive snort as your heart clenches. It felt as though it might pound out of your chest.

“Matt, that has to be the worst idea you’ve ever had. And you’ve had a lot of really bad ideas.”

Though asking the girl that’s fancied him for years to pretend to date him, only for him to snatch it all away again a few weeks later probably had to be one of the cruelest, you thought to yourself.

“Oh c’mon. There’s no way Blaise would be offended if you ditched him if we said we were together. He’s a perfectly reasonable bloke. He’d understand!”

You shake your head once more. There was no way you were pretending to date the boy you had been pining after for this long. It was only going to end in one way. Heart break. And not on his end.

“Bloody hell. What if I can get Luna to go in your place. Will you do it then? We both know he’s been eyeing that loon up for months.”

“Don’t call her a loon Matty.” You tilt your head in consideration however.

If he was willing to actually encourage Blaise’s love life, and be willing to get intermixed within the logistics of it all, he must be desperate. And you had been dying to set the two of them up, you supposed.

But you just couldn’t shake the bad feeling this whole situation gave you. It couldn’t be all that bad though, right? You reasoned. You’d gotten this far without Matt realizing your feelings, a few weeks of bliss surely couldn’t hurt.

“Alright. Fine. I’ll tell Blaise we got together and that I want to go to the ball with you, only if Luna agrees to go with him instead.”

Mattheo immediately brightens at your words, a self satisfied grin spreading across his face.

“Good. Because I already told Blaise that we were together and that I was taking you to the ball,” he says quickly. “Also- considering Blaise is more of a yapper than people give him credit for, the rest of the group definitely already knows.”

Your mouth drops open as you glare at the boy in front of you.

“Matt. What on earth. Did you tell him?” You grit out, praying to Salazar that Blaise hadn’t embarrassed you too much.

Mattheo shrugs. “Just told him that we had been out by the lake on one of our walks and I kissed you. One thing led to another and I asked you out. He seemed to believe it pretty easily actually.”

The boy looked all too calm about making up a whole scenario in which he made out with his best friend for your liking.

You purse your lips, taking a deep sigh. What did you see in this boy?

“Mattheo.”

“Yes love?”

“I’m going to kill you.”

“Can’t do that love, you wouldn’t kill your boyfriend.”

You continue to glare at the boy, fingers gripping tightly around your wand.

“Easy there, pretty,” Mattheo laughs nervously, slowly edging closer to you with a bashful grin.

“You better have thought this through Riddle. Because I’m telling you right now, that this is a bad idea.”

It was too easy. You know that much clearly. The two of you, you and Mattheo that is, walk silently along the streets of Hogsmeade, your friends surrounding you, shielding you from the brisk winter air. Mattheo's arm is wrapped securely around you, hand tucked into your jacket pocket, your fingers intertwined. It was so warm. So comfortable. So effortless, as if you had spent forever with his hands in your pockets.

Blaise and Daphne had been the only ones to know of your secret feelings towards your best friend, yet not a single one of the others looked particularly shocked when the both of you showed up in the common room wrapped in each others arms one night.

“Bout bloody time,” you’d heard Theo grunt to Draco from across the fireplace.

Daphne of course had been utterly elated for you, and Blaise had made sure you knew that there were no hard feelings about switching dates for the ball. Especially after he had secured one Miss Luna Lovegood as his date with the surprising help of Mattheo.

A warm squeeze of your hand shakes you from your thoughts as your group comes to stop outside of The Three Broomsticks.

“You sure you don’t want to come down to the shops, y/n?” Daphne asks looking back at you as she forges on with Astoria and Millicent.

“Bloody hell, yes! She’ll be fine with me. You can’t have her to yourself all the time!” Pansy says with exasperation, shooing the other girls away and linking her arm through yours on your free side.

The bell above the door rings lightly as the rest of your group enters the warm tavern, Theo and Enzo racing to secure your usual table.

“Hey Matty!” A voice shouts, stopping your trio in your tracks.

You turn to see another booth filled with familiar looking Hogwarts students and recognize one of the girls you’d watch Mattheo reject just a few days ago.

“Come sit with us,” she continues, attempting to wave him over.

Pansy gives the girl a sneer as you walk past, Mattheo not even sparing a glance in their direction.

“Don’t even know the bloody girl’s name,” he mumbles under his breath, causing you to let out a soft chuckle.

“Ey, what’s the hold up?” Theo shouts as you all hurry over to the table.

“Bloody hell. I thought y/n being my girlfriend would finally get those birds to back off,” Mattheo complains as he takes his seat in the booth.

His arm remains wrapped securely around you the entire time, sending warm tingles through you. It’s all an act, you have to remind yourself, pulling yourself out of your head.

Draco snorts at Mattheo’s grumbling.

“Half the school already thought you two were dating. Didn’t stop em then, so I don’t see why it’d stop them now.” He says matter of factly as the rest of the group nods in agreement.

“You lot are so dramatic. No one thought we were dating,” you sigh, rolling your eyes at your friends.

Their eyes flicker awkwardly back and forth between the lot of them. “Right.” Pansy says finally, bringing an end to the silence.

You glare pointedly at the girl.

“I’m going to the loo. Order me a butter beer Matty?” You say, standing up abruptly.

“I’ll come,” Pansy says quickly, going to rise as well.

“It’s fine Pans. I’m a big girl. Promise not to get attacked by a troll or nothin,” you say with a smile.

Mattheo opens his mouth to protest before closing it again and giving your hand a tight squeeze.

You make your way through the maze of tables, finally making it to the ladies room. Making a beeline to the sink, you take a breath, letting cool water splash against your face.

Salazar, you needed to get a grip. But everything about being with Mattheo felt so real. So natural. Which just meant it would feel all the more real when things ended. You take another moment to gather yourself, dabbing any remaining bits of water from your face. As your hand falls on the door handle to make your way back however, loud voices fill the hall.

“I don’t know what he sees in her,” a voice practically snarls. You can practically feel the malice, dripping from their lips.

“So it’s true then? Mattheo is taking that girl to the ball?” Another voice asks.

“I heard they’re dating.”

“They weren’t already?”

“I wonder if he’s taking her out of pity.”

A chorus of voices all say at once.

You immediately bristle, realizing they were talking about you.

“I hear she was the only one in their group who didn’t have a date and she practically forced him to take her.”

“I thought she was going with Blaise.”

Bloody hell. Where did they get all of this information?

“Whatever. It’s not like it matters either way. There’s no way they last. She’s a mess, and Mattheo has never been able to settle has he? It’s only a matter of time.”

You feel a deep frown form at the harsh words, but before you’re able to react, the bathroom door is pushed open and you’re face to face with the group of girls from before. The girl you had recognized as Mattheo’s reject smirks as she eyes you up and down before simply pushing past you. The rest of the girls follow, leaving you to wander back to your friends.

When you sit down again, Mattheo has a warm drink already waiting, and you let out a small smile as you cozy up next to the boy. No matter how hard you try to distract yourself however, the words of the girl’s echo through your mind.

Later that evening, you lay comfortably in bed with your head resting gently on Mattheo’s chest, hypnotized by the slow rise and fall. You hadn’t seen your roommates all day, and doubted they would be back if they weren’t there by now.

You lived for nights like these when Mattheo would bow out of whatever mischief Theo and Enzo had cooked up, and instead spend the evening holed up with you cuddling, talking, or getting into your own trouble. Your room had become a safe haven. A sacred oasis of sorts for the both of you to unwind, safe from the outside world.

“You were awfully quiet today at The Broomsticks.” Mattheo says, breaking the silence.

You only hum in response.

“What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?”

“How are we going to break up?” You ask, rather abruptly, as you look up at your best friend.

Mattheo looks surprised at the question.

“I don’t know. Didn’t really think I’d get this far in my scheming to be quite honest. I suppose I figured we’d just say that we figured we’d be better off as friends, or something of the sort. You can blame the split on me though if you’d like.” He replies.

You move your head to look down once more, picking at the blankets.

“No, no. The friends thing is fine. When should we do it?”

“Trying to get rid of me already, love?” Mattheo asks with a laugh.

“I just want to know what to expect.” You say quietly, causing Mattheo to grow quiet as well.

“Alright. Then how about a few days after the ball? We say that the dance made us realize we were better off as friends, and everything goes back to the way it was.” He says finally.

You feel your heart crack at his words.

“Yeah. Exactly like how it was.” You repeat.

Smoothing your dress out one final time, you turn around to hear Daphne gasp.

“Oh that’s stunning,” she gushes, her own deep blue gown cascading elegantly around her in waves of silk.

You’d spent the last several hours or so in her and Pansy’s shared dorm getting ready for the ball with the other girls, though where Pansy had wandered off to you had no idea.

All you knew, was that you were bloody nervous. You didn’t think you would be. It was just like any other night you reasoned. You and Mattheo were with each other constantly. What difference did a pretty dress make?

“I think the boys are ready for us whenever we are. Toria, come get these shoes,” Daphne shouts.

Astoria really did look like a princess you think to yourself, her soft yellow gown billowing gently with every movement.

“Ready to go down?” She asks, seeming to float over.

“As I’ll ever be,” you respond with a nervous smile.

Giving your shoulder a reassuring squeeze, Astoria slips on her shoes before making her way down to the common room, you and Daphne following close behind.

The boys are already congregated by the fireplace; their loud chattering could be heard across the room, but as soon as Theo’s eyes meet Daphne’s he freezes and the rest of the boys quiet down, noticing the shift.

Your eyes lock onto Mattheo’s and you slowly make your way over, nervously picking at your skirt with trembling fingers.

“Beautiful as always, y/n,” he says, smiling down at you when you finally reach him. Gently, he raises your hand to his lips, barely grazing over your shaking fingertips before looking back at you with his signature smirk.

“Where’s Draco?” You ask, not quite able to stomachs the intensity of his gaze.

“Had to be there early. Something about the champions and their dates having the first dance or something,” he replies easily, his hand finding its ever familiar place on your waist.

“Oh we are not missing that,” you say, your nerves quickly being replaced with excitement.

Mattheo grins back. “I knew we’d be on the same page,” he responds, tugging you towards the doors.

Together, the both of you rush to the main hall just in time to see Harry and Draco getting herded into a lineup of the champions to be paraded into the Great Hall.

“I certainly hope he took Snape’s dance lessons to heart,” you giggle.

It doesn’t take much longer for the rest of your group to join the both of you and soon enough you find yourselves following the flood of students into the newly decorated Great Hall.

It really was spectacular. The house elves clearly had spared no expense with thick, green trees covered in tinsel and ornaments lining the walls. Floating candles cast a warm glow about the room and the floor had the appearance of being covered in freshly fallen snow.

You watch, hiding a laugh, as Draco and Harry move awkwardly around the dance floor, almost colliding with Cedric and Cho on more than one occasion. Salazar help them.

Slowly, other couples begin to join the champions on the dance floor, swirling together in a sea of shimmering color.

“May I have this dance m’lady?” Mattheo asks with a lopsided grin.

Before you even have the chance to respond however, Mattheo is pulling you onto the dance floor, a look of pure delight across his face. There were very few times you remembered him looking this happy, and it melted your heart.

As the night progressed, Mattheo refused to leave your side, his hand rarely leaving your waist. Really, you hardly left the dance floor either. The few times you were able to escape with Daphne or Pansy to the punch bowl, Mattheo tracked you down shortly after, pulling you right back into his arms.

To say that you were in heaven was an understatement. You had spent hours daydreaming about what it might be like to have Mattheo’s hard-won affection to yourself. And now that you had it, you were practically floating. Which just made it all the more heart wrenching as you anticipated the inevitable. It was as if every move you made, every dance the two of you shared, was done with your hands tied.

People really weren’t going to believe your break up if he continued on like this, you’d thought at some point. But you couldn’t quite bring yourself to tell him to back off, especially as it grew later. Your time with him was fleeting after all.

“Bloody hell, Matt. Give the girl some breathing room,” Pansy exclaims after Mattheo had sought you out for the third time.

Mattheo just gives her a guilty grin before spinning you out onto the dance floor once more.

“I didn’t realize you liked dancing this much Matty,” you tease as the two of you away slowly on the floor.

“Oh I don’t. Just making sure I take full advantage of the night,” he replies, looking intently down at you.

You cock you head to the side.

“With you as my girl, I mean,” he adds. And before you’re able to put together another cohesive thought, his lips are on yours. In the middle of the dance floor.

Immediately it feels as though the lights had gone out, leaving the two of you alone in the room as you let your eyes flutter shut, focusing on the softness of Mattheo’s lips on yours. They move slowly at first. Carefully. Before quickly growing hungrier, more determined.

You barely register Mattheo’s fingers digging into you as he pulls you closer, and find yourself lost in the gentle sway as everything around you burns to the ground, leaving behind a fire growing steadily in your chest.

And just like that, you’re back in Mattheo’s arms as the water comes rushing in, jerking you back to reality. You stand frozen staring up at Mattheo as couples continue to move around you.

Had that really just happened?

“Um- fresh air. I think.” You stutter out, all but dragging the boy from the dance floor, praying no one had seen or noticed.

Mattheo wordlessly allows you to lead him out to the courtyard entrance before you all but collapse on one of the stone benches, still in shock.

“Please don’t avada me! I didn’t think that through entirely.”

“I don’t want to break up.” You say in unison.

“What was that?” Mattheo asks in surprise.

“No- hold on. Why in Salazar’s green bed sheets would I want to avada you?” You ask incredulously.

“More importantly, you don’t want to fake breakup?” Mattheo asks with a grin.

“Of course I don’t want to break up! I’ve fancied you for years!” You blurt out, slapping a hand over your mouth as soon as the words escape.

Mattheo looks at you with shock.

“No. I’ve fancied you for years. Why else do you think I refused to take anyone else to the ball?”

“Because you’re a stubborn arse,” you retort, barely processing the boy’s words.

He liked you?

The two of you stare at each other for another moment, still not fully believing the other as your minds race to put the pieces together.

It’s Mattheo who acts first, surging to connect your lips once more in a heated frenzy. It’s addicting really, the feeling of his soft lips against yours. The pull as he brings your bodies closer together. The warmth you can feel radiating off of him.

When you finally pull away this time, Mattheo’s eyes are shining down at you with that familiar intense gaze.

“We’re a pair of oblivious idiots, aren’t we?” You mumble, leaning into the boy.

“Well, you are. I haven’t exactly been subtle.” Mattheo replies with a snort, hugging you to his chest.

“Don’t be a twat. You’ve had girls fawning over you for years. What was I supposed to make of that?”

“I never looked payed them any mind, love. Think of it this way. I’ll just have years to make up for tonight,” he says with a cheeky smile.

You feel a familiar heat begin to rise in you once more as Mattheo takes hold of your arm, leading the way back to the dungeons.

“Oh I’ll hold you to that,” you reply, a mischievous smile making its way to your face.

“Wouldn’t expect anything less of you, love.”

[kaciebello]

No need for mail

Masterlist Badger express ★ Lorenzo Berkshire x Hufflepuff! reader (fem) Summary: While doing a school project, Lorenzo tries his luck. With the help of the wind and the sun, he falls harder and harder.  Warnings: no use of y/n,  Authors note: Haiya! This is a sequel series to the whole delivery one. This one is gonna focus on the boys separately! hope you enjoy it! English is not my first language, so I apologize for any mistakes beforehand. Proofread by me and me only (Ｔ▽Ｔ) And just so you know, it always has been him. ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ ( and yes I know he's a slut, not here tho, maybe next time.) word count: 1.1k Song: Married In Vegas - The Vamps

Light breeze messes with his hair. He does not care as much as his attention is on the mooncalf nest that rests below the cliff. The girl next to him is doing the same. Her hair is held together in a braid with a yellow ribbon wrapped into it. They are both lying down at the edge of the cliff, one wrong move and they would be rolling down. He turns his face to her.

“Why are we doing this?” He whispers, yes whispered as he has already been scolded once for speaking at his normal volume. Apparently, it would scare the weird animal away and that is not what they want.

“It's a school project, I told you that.” She says, her gaze not moving away from the big-eyed cows.

“I don't think Hagrid would care if we pulled everything out of a book.” He argues back but knows there is no way out of this. He's finally being let in on a Hufflepuff sacred. No wonder they always get the best marks in ‘care for magical beasts’. They simply just vibe with them. The girl just shook her head at him.

The girl scooted a little bit more over the edge. Lorenzo's hand flew over to her and grabbed the back of her shirt. For a witch, she does not have even an ounce of self-preservation in her body.  A small rock fell from their shuffling and landed near the nest. Scaring all the mooncalf, making them run and hide.

“look what you did!” the girl says and, with the help of Lorenzo, sits up.

“Me? I'm not the one trying to throw myself off the cliff!” he says, now too, sitting.

The girl scoffs and gets up to make her way over to the blanket where they set their stuff. He makes his way to her and sits down right next to her. Their knees touching. They both pulled out their notebook, he wrote down his observations and she finished her sketch of the animal.

Silence falls upon them as they both do their own thing. Lorenzo's eyes shift to see her sketch, only to see a familiar face. He does not know if he should call her out or not. But since he considered himself her best friend, a fact she constantly denies, he decided to do the first option.

“AYO, is that me!” Startled, the girl closes the notebook so fast it makes a thud so loud that he's certain the mooncalf all hid again. He tried to take the notebook from her, but she threw it on the other side of the blanket. She restraints one of his hands and the other one lands by her back.

When Lorenzo noticed how close they were, a smile crept on his face.  She noticed too, as his legs curled a little. She turns her body to face him more and places her other hand near his, probably so she can quickly grab it if he tries something.

He noticed her eyes were scanning his face. A breeze messes with his hair again. The girl blinks and lets his arm go, going to fix it for him. He places his, now free, arm on her thighs, squeezing them to make sure his arm lands where he wants it to without actually looking.

The two friends stay silent. Not an awkward one, but a comfortable one they always seem to find themself when they are together. 

“You're so pretty, I wish I could get you pregnant.” She breaks the silence. Lorenco can do nothing but chuckle. He buried his face in the crook of her neck. His arms now sneaking around her waist. Pulling her closer to his body.

“Ditto” He murmurs. He can feel her shake with laughter. She was now playing with his hair, something he could let her do all day if he could.  That's why he peels himself off of her. She just looked at him confused. Lorenzo just shakes his head and moves a little, before ploping his head down on her lap. He makes sure to grab her arms and slam it on his head for good measure.

She looks at him with a shocked expression before sighing. Nonetheless, she does what he wishes for and plays with his hair. He flashes her a smile full of pearly whites. 

“You're annoying.” She says looking down at him. he pokes her side making her squirm a bit.

“But you still love me.” he sings back to her. She does not answer to him. They fall into silence again. The girl is not looking at him. Something in the distance caught her attention. He did not mind, as if she were to look down on him, she would see a fool in love.

A sun framed her head and made it look like a halo. He was smitten.

“So you know how you just wanna be friends?” He says making her give him attention. Looking down at him her arm came to a stop.

“Yeah?”

“That's cool and all, but I'm like in love with you.” 

“Same” The girl just breaths out. Lorenzo did not expect her to say that. In a second he has decided he is not letting her change her mind.

He shoots up and cages her with one of his arms while the other one goes to her neck and pulls her closer. He does not give her a chance to register what is going on.

Their lips met, softly than someone would expect with how fast Lorenzo was with his moves. She took a few seconds before kissing him back, her arms cradling his face.

The kiss was sweet and slow, a fairytale-like.

Soon they ran out of breath, the girl gently pushing Lorenzo away as he tried to chase her into another kiss. Still, with closed eyes, he lends his forehead to hers.

“That was-” A low whistle cuts him off. Cursing under his breath, Lorenzo opened his eyes and straightened out. there stood four of his friends. A whine leaves him.

“AYO I DID NOT KNOW YOU HAVE A GAME LIKE THAT.” Draco makes sure that he can be heard all the way back to Hogwarts. Multiple praises and hollers sound on the little cliff they found themself on.

All the boys make their way to Lorenzo, lifting him up and repeatedly tossing him in the air. All he could do was catch a glimpse of the girl with a yellow ribbon in her hair laughing. Not even noticing the love note falling out of his pocket and getting lost in the wind.

tag list: @daisiesformylove , @klimovatereza-blog , @lafrone ,@enfppuff , @rafegfs , @frogtape , @lovelyygirl8 , @catiwinky, @anyam444 , @leeleecats , @ghostgardn , @reverse-soe , @ultramarinetovelvet , @iwishigotswallowed , @jazz-berry , @justatadbonkers , @partnerincrime0 , @schaebickel , @bunnyhopsstuff , @deluluassapocalypse

[pizzaapeteer]

Just a game of chess

Another though late entry for @thatdammchickennugget's hogmarch challenge. Week 3 -using the theme Wizard's Chess. Enjoy a little play on the game with a steamy best friend Blaise fic. Got a bit carried away in my first Blaise fic, 4.7 k

Warnings: MDNI, nsfw, female reader, female orgasm, semi-public sex, thigh riding, slight degrading, dirty talk, language, little bit of brat taming, the use of sunshine as a nickname

An: Also, a big thanks to @slytherinslut0 for proof reading, as well as @jayybugg for hyping me up and just taking the time to answer all my questions ✨ pretty divider found here ⋆ ˚｡⋆ ˚｡⋆ ˚｡⋆ ˚｡⋆ ˚｡⋆ ˚｡⋆ ˚｡⋆ ˚｡⋆ ˚｡⋆ ˚｡⋆ ˚｡⋆ ˚｡⋆ ˚｡⋆ ˚｡⋆ ˚｡⋆ ˚｡⋆ ˚｡⋆ ˚｡⋆ ˚｡⋆ ˚｡⋆ ˚

“Ooh, let's open up my mystery box. I’ve been needing a night for it!” You're already scrambling up from your spot, running towards his dorm to grab the gift buried in your bag. Blaise sighs, leaning back against the couch, pinching the bridge of his nose. Not that he didn’t love you and your antics, but you had a knack for buying random things. The outcomes often end in disaster, leaving Blaise to tidy up the mess. 

The pair of you had been chatting away, keeping one another company in the dimly lit Slytherin common room. The area left unoccupied, the two of you still up at an unreasonable hour, with just the sounds of fire crackling, the whistles of wind blowing on the paned glass. It wasn’t an unusual sight to be up so late. Blaise was one of your closest friends and you spent most of your time talking his head off into the early hours. 

The perplexity of how your friendship worked, often questioned by outsiders, the constant sighing that followed you as Blaise tolerated your ridiculous exultant optimism and friendliness. He was used to it by now, and even his other friends admired the way he could remain patient, having a calm composure. You two were good for each other. The combination of your bubbly energy and his serene demeanor worked together like the lulling of the lake, putting a grindylow to sleep. 

He leans forward, resting his hands on his knees as you return carrying a mundane looking box. Despite thinking about the aftermath of what was to come, his curiosity peaked, watching as you sat yourself on the floor across from him. He sat in silence as you unravelled the packaging to reveal plain old Wizard's chess, a disappointed frown appearing on your face. Chuckling with his brows raised, he coughs a smirk, “Oh boy Wizards' chess, that’s damn mysterious.”

Your eyes meet his, a deep frown moulding on your face as he teased you, “Oh, come on, was I just bamboozled? Scammed!” 

Your expression makes him laugh before he rolls his eyes at your reaction. Dragging the box closer for inspection, he scoots to the edge of his seat. “Seems it, Sunshine.” He gives you a soft smile, trying to lift your mood, “Let’s play, anyway. I won't go too hard on you this time.” His smile broadens cheekily, remembering the fit you threw when you lost last time. 

You roll your eyes but nod in agreement, taking the game out of the box to set up. As you unpack the game, you note everything is displayed exactly like normal Wizards' chess, making your frown deepen. You try to disguise your extended disappointment, not wanting Blaise to lecture you about knowing better than buying mystery gifts.

“Let me start.” You spin the board to have the white checkerboard closest to you. Looking over at him, you watch his brows raise at your attitude, stifling a giggle, you counteract by giving him your cutest grin, adding, “Please?” 

He sighs, amused but in defeat, rolling his eyes and giving you a playful nod. “Sure sunshine, take all the extra help you need.” 

The game begins as usual, with white going first. You take your first course of action and then lean your arms on the coffee table, attempting to throw Blaise off with your oh-so menacing stare. Strategy was one of his strengths, and he had worked up a rather good one thanks to how often he challenged Draco at Wizard’s chess. Applied with his overall exponential intelligence made versing him an often difficult battle for you. 

You, on the other hand, had always struggled to apply any sort of strategic logic towards games, finding yourself distracted or bored. Though Blaise used this to his advantage, he found it a little boring whenever he challenged you. Not to mention the fit you threw when you lost, despite not paying attention, leaving you sulking while Blaise adds another win to his belt. 

But tonight, as the clock struck 2 am, determination pushed you to actually pay attention to Blaise's moves. Holding your stare, your eyes following his move, still awaiting in anticipation for the game to surprise you and reveal its true secret. 

It was at the move of Blaise’s knight that your eyes widened, taking in the sight unfolding. The knight shifted to the area Blaise had commanded it to before it stood on the horse, bending down to throw its shoes off as they levitated up in the air. The miniature pair of boots spun above the knight, glowing as the figurine turned to look at you.

A whirlwind of emotions hits you, primarily a contrast of amusement and shock, as you look up at Blaise, brows raised. His dark brown eyes met yours, his own veil of surprise shadowing his expression as he cocks an eyebrow at you. “Where’d you say you got this from again?”

At his question, heat rises to your cheeks, the realisation hitting you hard. You should have seen it coming with who the inventors of the game were. Smiling sheepishly, “Oh the Weasley's.” The little knight crosses their arms and “hmph” looking up at you, making you blush. “Oh, right, sorry." Peering at Blaise, your tone holds uncertainty. “Guess we have to abide to keep playing.” 

Blaise’s expression doesn’t change as he takes in the new information, running his tongue along the underside of his teeth pondering what to do. This was a clear opportunity to push your relationship to something more, something he’d been waiting for. A challenging smirk curves onto his face, his eyes holding a glimmer of mischief as he nods his head towards you, “Go on Sunshine. We’re not quitting now. Can’t have you being a sore loser this early on.” 

The crackle of fire pops in the distance, sparks igniting as the flames roared, spreading warmth into the cold common room. Rolling your eyes at his remark, discarding your shoes, a daring awareness seeping into your mind. To continue the game would mean to cross the line of your friendship. Your turn awaits and hesitation halts you, taking in how unfazed Blaise looks, making you question if you are overthinking it all. It’s just a playful game between friends. It's not like you hadn’t seen him in his underwear before. 

Directing your bishop to its next position, memories blur your mind of Blaise in his underwear, a red hue spreading across your cheeks. Though the possibility of seeing him like that again awakens something you thought you’d buried long ago. Months' worth of emotions, a surge of strong feelings, bubble up, exploding a flood of heat within you. You rearrange your sitting position in an attempt to subtly squeeze your legs together, watching as Blaise makes his counter move.

The game progresses and while your attention is immersive on Blaise’s plays, that doesn’t seem to have helped with more of your own clothes having been removed. You couldn’t help feeling like a sore loser already, the latest piece of your attire being ridden as Blaise’s queen takes your rook. Your patience and vulnerability unravelling as you sit in just your lingerie. 

Your frustration grew, noting Blaise’s unbudged expression, not revealing any hints of what he was thinking. He’d always been exceptionally good at concealing his true emotions, a trait Theo and him shared. 

While you had seen Blaise in his undergarments, he’d never seen you so exposed before. His jaw clenches as his eyes assimilate the curves of your body, the softness of your skin under the warmth and glow of the fire. The flush of your rosy cheeks, and the lulling of your gentle breaths making your chest rise and fall. 

Feeling his blood flow down pumping agonising as his trousers tighten. He struggled to keep his mind focused on the game, his mind wandering, distracted by thoughts of you. Though he kept his composure for your sake, you were his friend, and he didn’t want to make you uncomfortable. 

The snapping of your fingers breaks his attention and he clears his throat, turning his attention to study the board. His eyes are drawn to the now glowing miniature of your knight waving his little pants in the air, awaiting Blaise’s compliance. Blaise’s brows raise, a small smile appearing, feeling impressed by your sudden attack at seizing his bishop. “Atta girl, well played sunshine.” 

His eyes flicker between yours, studying your behaviour towards the revelation, noting your flushed cheeks. He then stands, seeming untroubled, yanking down his trousers in a swift motion. His eyes locked on you, giving you a cheeky smile, waiting for a response as he took his initial seating position. His legs stretch out, spreading wide while his expression remains easy going, his arms crossing pondering his next step. 

The exposure of his burly thighs and curves of his muscles flexing as he readjusted himself halts your delirious reaction to his praise. Ogling at them, you bite your cheek, unable to stop obscene images being created in your mind. How it would feel to place your now soaking core against the hardness of his defined muscles, grinding your sweet cunt against them. Trying to camouflage your intense heat, you lower your gaze back down to the game, trying to distract yourself from drooling over the mental image of riding on them. 

You had always looked from a respectful distance, avoiding giving away any obvious feelings. But now, under his piercing gaze, you wanted nothing more than to climb up on them and use him. All ounces of your self control were being tested, your view aligning too perfectly with his crotch allowing you to detect the outline of his thick cock secured tightly in his boxers. 

What little focus you had before vanished, the air becoming thicker with anticipation, his dark eyes watching you like a hawk. His face, though displayed by a guarded mask, the disguise of a cheeky gleam lay in his eyes, seeming to read every thought you formed. 

The light tapping of your fingers on the table echoes in the room, your cheeks stinging from the harshness of your teeth chewing against them. breath hitching, waiting for him to progress. His queen sat parallel from yours, his next move would claim it as his. Your breath hitched at the growing defeat, either way something of yours was coming off next.  

A piece of fabric that held the contents of your friendship would be stripped away, leaving you vulnerable. Blaise could sense your apprehension and hoped that feelings of excitement were laying underneath it as he made his next move. Softened eyes meet yours, his hand raising, beckoning you over, “Come here, Sunshine.” 

A breath is released at his words, surprised shadowing over your face. His tone holds both comfort and power, making you rise feeling drawn by his magnetic pull. Walking over to him, slowly stopping in front of his legs, your knees brush against his. 

He takes a risky move, trailing his fingertips gently up your bare thighs, softly testing for your reaction. The sigh of released tension from you satisfies him as he pats his lap, encouraging you to come closer. You didn’t think your cheeks would ever stop blushing as you followed his silent command straddling his lap. 

The giddiness of actually sitting in Blaise’s lap made your heart leap, his hands caressing your face gently. His eyes lock on yours, searching for an answer, needing to know if you were truly okay with this. “You good sunshine?” His voice, low and sweet flowing, sent a blazing sensation down your body.

Your legs instinctively wiggle as your core clenches. Nodding, you bite at your lip, unsure your voice held any firmness to speak. The slight buck of your hips, rubbing the wet material of your panties against his thigh, had a lascivious grin spreading across Blaise’s face. 

“I’ll take that as a yes.” Cold metal brushes across your skin, his hands trailing further down your body. “You trust me, right? You know I always take good care of you.”

Rapidly nodding, your back arches, soft movements glide across your back, his fingertips rubbing light circles. Pressing down further into his thigh, a breathless moan escapes you. He smiles again, amused, “I’m going to need some words sunshine. Before you start becoming impatient.” His hands hold your hips firmly, stalling you from grinding your cunt onto him. 

“Yes, I trust you. I always do.” You peer up at him dazed with excitement now. Was this really happening? Sitting on top of your best friend’s lap, both undressed down to your underwear, the air thick with sexual tension. “Are you sure you want this B?” A feeling of apprehension washes over you at the mere thought of him changing his mind.

A low honey dripping chuckle ruptures from him, and his hands squeeze your face with kindness. “You love to doubt my decisions, don’t you? I always keep my word sunshine.” Caressing your jaw softly, he leans his head closer. “I want this, I want you.” 

His lips press gently against yours, capturing the quiet gasp you make. His lips, soft and luscious, move rhythmically with yours, fingers tangling, threading into your hair. Your nerves melt away completely, leaning closer and wrapping your hands around his neck. 

Blaise notices your eagerness and takes the lead, slipping his tongue in, the kiss building in pleasure. Burst of passion flows, stripping away the clear unresolved tension that had been creeping between the two of you. Your breathless moans harmonise with one another as the kiss grows messier. His hands roam, exploring eagerly to uncover new wonders your body provides. 

Hands grope across the surface of your ass, squeezing, kneading, as your body rolls, grinding down on his thighs, a slight moan at the feel of his muscles flexing under your core. Digging your hands into his broad shoulders, fingernail marks denting his shirt, your hips rock back and forth, riding the wave of pleasure that stimulates your clit. 

“Little desperate thing, aren’t ya baby.” Your eyes widen, taken aback by his degrading words, biting your lip, struggling to contain another rising moan. Blaise grins, flexing his leg more, watching the way you mew clutching onto his shoulders. “Caught you drooling from across the table, so pathetic.”

The sudden movements of his leg bouncing catch you off guard, the vibrations ricocheting, sending pressure straight to your clit. A sharp whine is ripped from you, echoing, bouncing around the hollow room, your head falling into the crook of his neck as you shamelessly rock harder. 

“Atta girl, gonna fuck yourself on my thigh?” Blaise whispers small praises in your ear, his hold shifting to grab your hips, helping guide you towards your first orgasm. Desperation drips off your tongue, whines and whimpers spilling from you, his thighs continually clench repeatedly creating the much needed friction on your clit.

A dampened puddle soaks through your panties, drenching his thigh, the wetness spreading around your throbbing core, adding to the jolts of bliss applied to your clit. “Making such a mess, sweetheart, just couldn’t help yourself.” 

Arching your back, throwing your head back. With the tug of your chin, your head is swiftly pulled in another direction, lips colliding, smashing hungrily into Blaise’s. His desperation to drive you over the edge fueling his energy, his tongue slipping into your mouth, hands pressing your body down harder against him.

You whine, the sensations driving you wild while you cling to him, your body rocking faster and harder, chasing the pleasure building, as your orgasm flows through you. “Gonna cum baby? I want you soakin my thigh properly.”

His words hit you hard, sending a rush of heat straight to your aching core. Your muscles convulse, the intense sensation of your orgasm washing over you. Pulling away, your head tilts back as you come, squeezing your thighs around his calloused legs, riding through your high.

Blaise watches you fall apart, admiring the flushness of red adorning your cheeks, his hands tending to your hips. Swiftly his hands envelop you, lifting, peeling your soaked body off his thigh and laying you down on the couch. 

The chillness of leather clings onto your body while you catch your breath, relishing in the rush of oxygen filling your chest. Glows of fire flicker upon his skin, displaying his captivating chocolate glazed chest with the undoing of each shirt button.

Your eyes rake, taking in the subtle, or possibly deliberate movement - watching the flirtatious smile ghost his lips, as his muscles flexing carnally, discarding his shirt. Blaise swipes the remaining mess splattered on his thigh, leaning down to offer his soaked fingers out for you. Captivated by his enticing form, your mouth is still gaping allowing him to persist guiding them into your mouth.

The metallic taste of yourself seeps on to your taste buds, your tongue instinctively swirling around his large digits. A whiney moan is pulled, the sound lighting Blaise’s face up, “that’s it pretty girl, cleaning up your own mess.”

He retracts his fingers, your eyes locked on one another as he wastes no time, leaning down, hovering over you to plant kisses along your collarbone. Trailing your hands up his muscular chest, squeezing, grasping every inch of him. Every moan and whimper made, etched slowly, being ingrained into his mind, the sounds he always dreamed of hearing. 

His body pressed against yours, his throbbing cock nestling in between your thighs, brushing the soaked cotton of your undies, grazing your overly sensitive clit. Moans spill as you tilt your head back, elongating your neck, allowing Blaise to seize the opportunity to trail more kisses up your neck. “Fuck, so needy aren’t you, Sunshine?” 

Migrating his hands, he trails them up your body, pulling at the fabric blocking your tits. Groping at your delicate bust, the soft flesh buried by the depths of his hands, illustrating the extensive size of them. Working skillfully, he unclips the garment, exposing your delicious bust, his pupils dilating, taking in the enticing sight. Lust glazes over his eyes, his hands cupping, squeezing the supple hold of your tit, nipping harsher at your neck. 

Nodding to his question, his fingers flick at your hardened nipples, pinching them till you cry pathetically. “Please, don’t make me wait any longer.” 

He chuckles dryly, “I know I taught you better manners than that.” Another harsh pinch is applied, his fingers twisting mercilessly at your sensitive buds. A deep wave of pleasure courses through him at your desperate cries, his lips curling into a smug smile. “Always have been so impatient, haven’t you sunshine? Such a whiney little brat.” 

You whine at the degradation, the quickness in which Blaise turned over a coin, moving away from his usual tolerating tone replaced by a figure of dominance, left you wanting more. With his free hand, he trails it down your body, making you squirm at his touch, his fingers pulling at the hemline of your panties. You shiver desperately, trying to clench at anything, his finger teasing your slit. Coaxing his digits in your juices, teasing your clit, rubbing small circles across the sensitive bud, the motions sending shocks of pleasure through you.

Moaning in relief, your hips buck as you grasp onto his shoulders, trying to bring him closer, needing, wanting more. He has other plans though, replacing his hand with his mouth, sucking on your nipple, he holds you firmly in place. Squeezing your thigh, nails digging into your skin, a cautionary threat. His fingers draw slow, sensual circles, creating shivers that spread over every inch of you. The tantalizing sensation leaves you squirming more in his hold, eyes peering at him wide, doe eyed. 

Brown eyes peer down on you in mock disappointment at your feeble desire for him. “Ask me nicely, and maybe I'll go easy on you.” His cock twitches at the contortion of your face, revealing your desperate need for him, enough to spur him on, rubbing his finger at an intensely slow pace.

“Please Blaise, I’ll be good…I just need…need you to fuck me.” Breathlessly you ask him, his teasing pace making your head split, his lips still consumed by your tits. 

His face curves amused into a satisfied smirk at hearing your request, demand. “Atta girl, wasn’t so hard now.” His fingers rub, increasing their pace on your hypersensitive clit, before sliding a digit inside your soaked pussy. 

The surprised whine has him biting his lip, grazing his teeth across your nipple, suckling harder, leaving reddening marks across your breasts. Warmth invades him as his finger stretches you out, groaning at how needfully you clench, squeezing around him. “Fuck.” He slides another in relishing in the sounds you make, “gotta fucking stretch this tight little pussy out”.

Your cunt clenches trying to hold on to his fingers as he slides them through your wet folds, unable to stop your hips from lifting. The long wait of the pressure building has you clawing at his shoulder blades, you pleading with him before you know it. “Please, fuck, Blaise. Please, I need something more.”

“I said I’d go easy sunshine, I don’t think you’re read-” “Please!” A whine spurs from you in agony, at the thought of waiting any longer unbearable, having waited longer than tonight to fuck him. 

He cocks a brow at your rude interruption, his eyes taking in your pleading face. It's lucky you were so damn cute with your face all scrunched, though if you didn’t want it easy, he wouldn’t give it to you. 

Withdrawing his hands, he gives your cunt a small slap, silencing your outburst. “This is what you want. Is it not sunshine?” In seconds, he tugs his boxers down, his cock bursting as it springs free, smacking up into his abdominal. 

Lowering your gaze lustfully, unable to stop the shameful way your mouth drops, your stomach dropping. Holy fuck. A wave of anticipation hums, an electric trill spikes through your nerves, making you tremble. He leans closer resting his head against your forehead, pumping his hard cock, small grunts of relief leave him. “Be a good girl and tell me if you want me to stop.”

Nodding while maintaining contact with his chestnut orbs, waves of comfort wash over you. He gives you a reassuring smile, tilting his head to brush his lips against yours again. The softness of his lips distracts you momentarily, a blaze of heat rising in you as he pushes forward, sliding the head of his cock into your folds. The stretch you felt as Blaise edged his cock further in catches your breath in your throat. 

Groaning as he sank his hips forward, filling you up completely, his breath shallows feeling how your cunt swallows his cock. The tight warmness of your cunt, clenching, sucking his cock in snuggly, his hands resting on your hips, pausing as he waits for you to adjust. A sharp breath is drawn. “Fuck, you good sunsh-.” 

“Holy shit, your cock feels so'good, so fucking big.” The look Blaise shoots at you shows his level of patience breaking. Agitated by your blunt interruption despite your erotic praise, hands gripping your hips tighter. He was used to your bratty attitude; it just was something that came with being your friend. But now buried deep within your warm walls, he wanted to fucking put you in your place. 

In an instance, his hips move, pounding viciously, his muscles relaxing with each thrust, relishing at how well you're already taking him. You whimper, eyes widening at Blaise’s relentless pace, your nails digging into his skin to stabilise yourself. The intense pressure in your stomach spirals as you throw your head back, focusing hard on taking him. Your walls clenching, eyes squeezing shut incoherent babble spewing from your lips. 

Blaise chuckles bitterly, “Remember when I said I wouldn’t go too hard on you? Yeah, well I lied.” Your skin burns, the tightening grip of his hands, his lips planting hot kisses along your neck. His hands grab your legs, wrapping them around himself, allowing him to sink deeper. 

“Such an impatient little brat. Got what you wanted, now what you can’t even talk? Where’s the gratitude, Sunshine.” The more he degraded you, the more you whimpered, feeling overwhelmed by his words. He caresses your face, trying not to be too stern. “look at me, pretty girl, let me see you as you take my cock.” 

With Blaise’s hand guiding your head, your eyes meet his, brows scrunching and lips parting, only breathless whimpers escaping them. Groans spill from himself watching you struggle, clearly enjoying the ruthlessness of his movements. “Tell me how good it feels.” 

“So’ good..” a weak murmur is heard, making Blaise grin in satisfication, watching the way your tits bounce, your eyes glazed over, tears brimming. 

“Takin me so well baby, such a good girl.” Blaise rests his head against your forehead, sharing sweet praises in between the sounds of your merciless whimpers. “Letting me take care of your sweet cunt, ain’t that right?” 

Your body tenses convulsing, hands gripping roughly onto Blaise, mind fogging as your second climax approaches. His lips press claiming yours in a hot kiss, your breath stalled as he reaches down rubbing your clit, coaxing you closer to the edge. His own thrusts become more erratic, increasing his pace, groaning each time you squeezed his cock. Pleasure surges through you, feeling him slam repeatedly against the certain spot. “Blaise, fuck.. I’m gonna-” 

An overwhelming cry tears through you, mind shattering as you fall over the edge. Head thrown back, pulling Blaise down with you, your legs continue to shake as he kisses your neck softly, his pace slowing as his own climax nears. His hands kept your legs pried wide as he groaned, rutting his hips with one last thrust, spilling his hot seed inside you. 

He collapses on top of you, resting his head in the crook of your neck. Catching your breath, your hands caress, trailing along his back. “Thank you.” Your voice is soft and quiet but laced with teasing. 

His head lifts, sighing in amusement at your comment with an eye roll, the corners of his mouth pulling into a smile. “You fucking kill me, sunshine.” He pushes himself off of you, pulling himself out, a collective sigh shared between you. 

Rearranging himself, he moves to retrieve materials to clean you up. Tending to your sensitive body, his eyes meet yours, offering a hand out for you to sit up. “Did I hurt you?” His brows furrowing, eyes studying your overall reaction. 

You shake your head, still feeling weak from the mind blowing experience. “no you could never hurt me. You take care of me, right?” 

Blaise grins sweetly back at you, his hand twirling a loose strand of your hair around his finger. “I do. Always gonna take care of my sunshine.” 

A new spread of red scatters your face as you give him a soft smile. Your eyes meet in a bittersweet moment, sharing in the reality of what had just happened. Biting your lip, giggles bubbling. “While I thanked you, you better thank the weasleys.” 

The smile is swept off his face hearing your next comment, his eyes rolling back for the millionth time. His eyes give you a ludicrous look as he wraps his hands, engulfing your warm body and bringing you closer to him. “I think it’s you who finally deserves a thank you. Guess not all your ideas are disasters.” 

You laugh, beaming at the warm embrace, glad your relationship hasn't changed. "So does that mean I win?” 

He cocks a brow, snorting, “I don’t know about that. I think you’re still taking home the title of sore loser.” He winks, chuckling at his own innuendo. Though as he gazes upon you, captivated by your beauty, a realization of something new unfolds. A smile beams as he nods, “Though I guess you may have won in other ways tonight.” 

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