Tumgik
#pansy is just done
draco "you won't believe what potter did" malfoy and pansy "kill me, blaise" parkinson
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raatopaikka · 10 months
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Three decades I/III of Taemin - 1993-2003 (2023)
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oh2e · 2 years
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I’m reading Good Omens again and thinking about how Crowley and Aziraphale aren’t really men and aren’t really humans etc. Then I started thinking about the sentiment that even if being queer was a choice, people would still choose to be queer and how Aziraphale choses to appear as a gay man. He choses to be the kind of person who gets called “the southern pansy”. That’s a choice that he made.
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phoradendron · 6 months
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Some results of my earlier adventures with natural dyes. These are dyed with blue elderberry; I had read how red and black elderberry are not very light- or colorfast, but I dyed these two or three months ago and they are doing well! Could be chance, but maybe blue elderberry is more colorfast?
I want to try changing the PH in the future for more colors. These are alum mordanted wool embroidery thread, one is undyed the other is white. In the first photo, the fibers that were originally white are on the top, undyed on the bottom, and the one weirdo off to the side was white and went in late when I decided there was more room in the jar.
No heat added to the dye bath to keep the colors brighter. I prepared it by crushing the berries, adding just enough water to cover the plant matter, leaving them overnight, crushing again and straining out the plant matter, then left the mordanted fibers in for three days; very simple. Washed thoroughly, dried in the window lol.
The white fibers became a sort of soft raspberry color, the undyed became a sort of rose gold. The weirdo is a sort of Pepto Bismal color? To be poetic
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my singular tattoo fr just vanished like shes gone now shes totally faded .... rip girl im gonna get u again some day
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mikeyxfreeman · 11 months
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Harry Potter and Pansy Parkinson being siblings AU ?!
It's more likely than you think!
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Harry has messy black hair and green eyes, a mixture of both of his parents. Pansy also has black hair, and amazingly enough – her having vibrant green eyes is a popular headcannon.
With similar appearances in mind, they could pass as siblings, or cousins, doesn't really matter!
In my personal AU of this, they're adoptive siblings – however, they are distantly related. James Potter is a pureblood, and that being said it wouldn't be that much of a stretch to say that the Potters could have been related to the Parkinsons.
Harry was still given over to the Dursleys for the first few years of his life, since he does need the protection that his mother gave him. But the moment he started going to Hogwarts, he was legally adopted by this one girl's parents to which he doesn't even talk to at all, claiming that they are related in a way so that it wouldn't be much of an issue if he was taken in with them.
They were certainly rich, had influence too, and only then does Harry learn about how the Wizarding World works. To learn that he is a half-blood, and his now-parents are purebloods that have "purer blood qualities" than he does. But alas, he has to actually go to school, with his new sister, Pansy Parkinson.
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Year One, Harry Potter and the only time Pansy was nice to him.
Harry tried to get along with Pansy, really, he tried! But Pansy wasn't known to be good at handling changes, especially something as big and abrupt as adopting "The Chosen One" and having to be known as his sister, instead of being fine on her own. She was a tough cookie, and Harry wasn't sure if the girl was starting to hate him for simply existing.
They were sorted into different houses, unsurprisingly. But he does mention to Pansy that the Sorting Hat considered putting him in Slytherin, albeit getting glared at was hard, he still told her. As an attempt to talk to his new sister.
"You're in the wrong house, you're a Parkinson now. We're supposed to be in Slytherin." She would say, but Harry shook his head.
"I would– I would switch, if I could." He tries.
"Don't say that. Maybe just trust the hat, or something."
Maybe Pansy Parkinson wasn't that bad.
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Year Two, Harry Potter and the rift between him and Pansy.
Shit happens, and all of the sudden it was another year at Hogwarts, as if their DADA teacher didn't turn out to be bearing the head of You-Know-Who. The news didn't break out to the entire school, thankfully, but there were still speculations as to what happened to Quirrel and how Harry and his new friends disappeared during a certain timeframe.
Life was going smoothly, Harry goes to the Parkinsons for the summer, even though he and Pansy never spoke that much, Mr. and Mrs. Parkinson were really nice to him – still had the twinge of strictness that he needs in order to keep up with the family image though.
He can't help but worry if Pansy just doesn't like him or he did something wrong. But they have different lives outside of the Parkinson Manor, most notably is that they're friends with people from their respective houses.
Problem is, their houses have a rivalry situation.
So, were they supposed to join in?
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glittercorvid · 3 months
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been thinking about autistic pain tolerance and how many of my painful childhood memories could have been avoided if i'd just. understood the difference between Something Bad Happening and the ache of being alive.
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themightybooshfan · 1 year
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I have SO many ideas for song fics but don’t have the mental energy to write angst, so please if you want one I’d love to share
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transthatfag · 2 years
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im a genius
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eyes-talks-ocs · 1 month
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Things I have learned from writing like 50,000+ words in my WIP:
Macaw is afraid of the dark.
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slytherinslut0 · 6 months
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Mattheo Riddle. | We Are Done
Info: Mattheo calls things off during a nasty fight where you were only expressing your concern for his safety, putting an end to your months-long complicated fling. When he inevitably gets hurt and finds himself in the hospital wing as a result of his recklessness, you pay him a little visit, eager to get your revenge.
Word count: 5k
Tags: 18+, SMUT, Toxic Behaviours, Sadism, Masochism, Intense Bloodplay, Restraint, Dom!Reader, Sub!Mattheo, Begging, PIV, Sexual Punishment, Praise Kink, Degradation Kink, Humiliation.
A/N: went all the way to the depths of hell for this one☠️
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The journey from the bustling opulence of the Great Hall to the clinical confines of the hospital wing unfolded like a protracted soul-search, nearly forty minutes of introspection that could have singlehandedly redefined the word regret.
A seething turmoil churned within, its intensity drawn solely from the arid kindling of memories involving your ex fling, Mattheo Riddle. Despite the passing week of newfound solitude, the inner maelstrom showed no fucking signs of abating.
The recollection of your fleeting intimate moments swarmed you, a ceaseless loop that played out in the theater of your mind--like an unresolved holodrama with seemingly no fucking end.
His imprint stained every fragment of your life; in the solitude of the shower, mental echoes followed the course of water, little rivers reminding you of the ones tracing intricate paths down his sculpted physique. Within the shared space of the common room, the mental tableau featured his fingers engaging in an intimate ballet, leaving the taste of his lips lingering in your mouth as they ever-so-dominantly stifled your lusty sounds.
And somehow, that wasn't even the worst of it. Oh, not even close. It was during the nocturnal realm that the memories unfolded their cruelest chapters.
In the shroud of night, it transcended beyond the mere visual replay of his figure dominating yours, or the sensory exploration of his hands traversing the curves of your body. It wasn't just the recollection of his teeth sinking into your neck that lingered. No, the intricacies of your mind wove a far, far more nuanced tapestry.
Nighttime summoned forth the vivid recollection of the encompassing warmth emanating from his broad chest, the haven discovered within the embrace of his strong arms, and the fragrant allure of his messy hair, intertwining with the visceral memories of each intimate encounter. His burning gaze that had seared into your consciousness was more than a mere look; it was an indelible mark, haunting the very core of your thoughts with the echoes of shared passion.
These were the nocturnal specters that besieged you behind closed lids, engaging in an unwelcome dance as you wrestled with the elusive embrace of sleep. These very memories, like a relentless blacksmith, stoked the inferno within, leaving behind the most acrid, bitter residue on your tongue--a taste of anguish and betrayal.
The haunting question echoed through the corridors of your thoughts: why had he subjected you to this intimate claiming, an emotional prison woven with shared intensity, only to abruptly extinguish it with the cold finality of three, sad little words.
"We are done."
And thus, even after the amount of passing time, all it took was a single sideways glance exchanged between Pansy and Draco during their spirited debate over impending assignments to inspire the catalyst for your abrupt departure. With a forceful clatter, you slammed down your fork and pushed up from the table, commencing a determined march into the unknown.
Their speculative gazes undoubtedly trailed your abrupt exit, but you paid no heed. The entire school was privy to the fact that you and Mattheo were done, seemingly officially this time--terminated by a colossal spat prior to one of his ludicrous nighttime escapades in the forbidden forest. Mattheo's hospitalization, a testament to the recklessness that marked him and his band of fools, left him nursing scratches, cuts, bruises, and a sizable gash on his lower abdomen.
Pansy's calls faded into the periphery as you strode away, your indifference resonating louder than any response could convey. The world around you blurred into inconsequential background noise, drowned out by the burgeoning tangle of spite that commandeered your thoughts. Initially relegated to the forefront, this resentment had now metastasized, occupying every crevice of your headspace.
The recollection of his outburst haunted you, a violent reaction triggered by your attempt to dissuade him from venturing into the forbidden forest. Advising caution, you found yourself confronted with accusations of control and a stifling of his fucking freedom. Hurtful words cascaded from his lips during that argument, culminating before he recklessly endangered himself in the perilous forest. All the moments of vulnerability you shared with him, surrendering yourself without reservation, only to be met with his callousness when you were simply trying to safeguard him.
And as the embers of revenge blazed within, so did the deafening roar for closure. The need to settle the score and the yearning for resolution thrived in the wake of an emotional maelstrom.
‘We are done’ felt insufficient—it couldn't conclude there. You wouldn't fucking allow it.
Approaching the hospital wing doors, a surprising fortitude replaced any expectation of your confidence wilting under the imposing pressure. Strangely, a heightened anger welled within you, as though Mattheo Riddle were the sun, each step forward intensifying the scorching heat enveloping you. With a decisive gesture, you flung the door open, your breath held in suspense as your eyes canvassed the beds. Yet, he remained conspicuously absent, amplifying the frenetic flutter in your heart into an unrestrained whirlwind.
"Miss? May I help you with something?"
You pivoted sharply, eyes ablaze, as if embers sparked from your gaze. "Mr. Riddle. Mattheo. Where is he?"
The nurse swallowed, brows furrowed in confusion, but she cautiously gestured toward the hall, taking a step forward. "We moved him into a private room yesterday. His father requested it. Third door to the left."
Your eyes rolled involuntarily as you turned away,  a silent commentary on the absurdity before you. Suppressing the impulse to scoff required a fucking Herculean effort--of course, his father would demand a private room for him. The bloody entitlement was as predictable as Mattheo's suffocating arrogance.
As your determined march neared its end, you found yourself standing before the designated door, caught in a tumult of fear and fury. Fingers trembled, folding in waves in a futile attempt to expel the excess energy coursing through your veins. This ritual had proved futile throughout the previous week, and it yielded no different results now. A frustrated exhale escaped through your nose as you charged through the doorway, propelled by a relentless surge of emotion.
Mattheo Riddle's vulnerability exceeded all expectations as he lay in his opulent private chamber. Shirtless, his body displayed a cruel artwork of black and blue hues, stretching beyond the healing gash on his abdomen. A chaotic tapestry of scratches adorned his shoulders, arms, neck, and the once flawless canvas of his face, now disrupted by a thin, blistering line over the bridge of his nose. A swallow lodged in your throat as you beheld him, a striking portrait of agony that rendered him almost unrecognizable.
"Why the hell are you here?" He stared at you, expression vacant. "Can't you comprehend simple instructions?"
With a cool, unwavering gaze, you shot back, "And miss the chance to witness your glorious downfall? Not a fucking chance, Riddle."
Mattheo clenched his jaw, exhaling sharply as he adjusted against the sheets. "You're insufferable."
You sneered, advancing with measured steps. "Coming from you, that's a compliment."
Advancing, you scrutinized his form, taking in the mosaic of fresh scars that adorned his skin. Arriving at the bedside, your gaze drifted downward, noting that beneath his waist, he was clad only in boxers. A scant, white sheet was the sole guardian of whatever remained of his dignity.
Mattheo's snarl reverberated in the room. "If you're here to extend your fucking pity, please, spare me."
A sharp retort escaped your lips, your eyes dancing with a hint of amusement. "Oh, I'm not offering pity...though you do present quite the pitiable fucking sight, I'll give you that."
"Then what the fuck do you want?" Mattheo's voice carried an edge, his eyes narrowing with impatience. “I told you, we are done.”
A pregnant pause filled the room as you let his question linger, a mental reel replaying the relentless week of torment he had unleashed upon you. Your gaze lingered on his tousled chocolate curls and once-enticing plush lips, forcing yourself to traverse the memories of months marked by a tumultuous dance between pain and pleasure. The realization hit like a sledgehammer--all those moments, the highs and lows, seemed to have led to an abyss of pure fucking nothingness.
A furrow etched your brow as you looked down at him. "It's unbelievable that I let myself get ensnared into feeling something for you."
"Your feelings were your own choice," he quipped, his head falling back with an air of indifference, eyes drifting to the ceiling. "Don't blame me for your poor judgment."
Your frown etched deeper lines on your face, the surge of anger unmistakable. "Regardless, you still manipulated me like a fucking puppet."
"Amusing how complaints disappeared when you were screaming for more every damn night," he retorted, lids fluttering with evident irritation. "Your anger's just a cover for the fact that you'll have to find a new playmate now...have fun chasing those highs, princess, but I promise you'll only end up disappointed."
Your jaw dropped in disbelief, gaze narrowing into a potent mix of anger and hurt. "You're a real fucking prick, you know that?"
Mattheo regarded you with eyes that seemed to hold nothing but emptiness. His silent response coaxed your hands to curl into tight fists, and your chin to tremble with the pressure of boiling blood. You hadn't come here for him to treat you like a mere specter, to act as if you were invisible, as if you were nothing--something you knew you had never been. And still weren't.
"Answer me," you hissed, your voice shaking with a blend of frustration and desperation.
He remained silent, his gaze an unyielding anchor in the stormy sea of your emotions. The void in his pupils became increasingly maddening, an inscrutable abyss that left you grappling with the uncertainty of what the fuck he was even thinking right now.
"Answer me, Riddle." Your demand sliced through the air, a fervent plea for any sign of acknowledgment.
But he remained stubbornly mute.
Your chest surged with frustration, the world momentarily blurring in your escalating anger. "Say something, damn it!"
It was only when the sting of his skin met the back of your hand, and red streaks of blood marked your knuckles, that you realized you had slapped him, reopening the scab on his cheek. Yet, that wasn't the shocking part--though it certainly played a role--what truly stunned you was the quiet, wanton moan that escaped Mattheo's lips, his lids fluttering while his body tensed against the bed. In awe, you gulped.
And then, a peculiar, wicked force stirred within, a voracious entity feeding on the months of torment he had subjected you to. Something that hungered for more.
So, succumbing to its dark allure, you withdrew your hand and unleashed another sharp, resounding slap across his cheek. Blood painted his face, and Mattheo groaned, fingers clutching at the sheets as his hips thrust into the air, his arousal blatantly revealed beneath the fabric. Spellbound, you observed as he collapsed back onto the mattress, his eyes fluttering open, holding a gaze that teetered between vulnerability and desperation.
Between the conflicted expression in his eyes and the pulsating bulge between his legs, the sinister impulse within you deepened, intertwining with a more primal sensation. One unmistakably identified as pure, unbridled lust.
"You fucking like that, don't you?" You breathed, your lips twisting into a sadistic grin.
"Are you trying to hurt me, princess?" Mattheo's intense gaze focused on you, alternating between his increasing arousal and your exasperated expressions. "You'll have to put in more fucking effort than that..."
"Hm." You hummed, grin widening. "If you insist."
You locked on to Mattheo's gaze, feeling empowered by the way his normally stoic expression was now clouded with a burning need. With a coy smile, you swung your knee onto the hospital bed, letting your skirt ride up around your hips and exposing your panties. His brown eyes lingered between your legs, and you could feel the heat of his gaze against your skin as you climbed over him, straddling his strong thighs. He tensed as his eager cock twitched beneath you, silently begging for more.
The power dynamic between you had shifted so drastically in this moment. Mattheo Riddle, famed for his cunning and ruthlessness, was now completely at your fucking mercy. It was an intoxicating feeling, knowing that you had the power to make him feel truly vulnerable.
"So weak," you spat, a wicked grin spreading across your face as you dipped your hips just enough to skim the head of his cock. The sight of his full-body convulsion was mesmerizing, and the shaky breath that left his lips told you everything you needed to know.
You could tell he was still in pain, but there was something else there too--desperation.
"Poor boy," you murmured, running your fingers down the curves of your own figure, taking pleasure in the sensation of your own heat as you slipped your hand between your thighs, caressing yourself. "This is what you want, isn't it?"
Mattheo's eyes fluttered closed, his mouth falling open in a low groan. It was clear he was entranced by the sight of you touching yourself, and the way your words dripped with sinful seduction only added to his lust.
"Yes," he gritted out through clenched teeth, his hips bucking up to meet yours. "This is what I want."
"Look at you...so fucking needy..." you clucked your tongue and chuckled, extending out your free hand and running it along the wounded flesh of his chest, digging in with a little more force than you'd intended, judging by the groan that left his lips and the blood that split through the scab. "You're such a pathetic mess, Matty...it's almost too easy to control you like this..."
"Go to hell." His jaw tightened, a vein throbbing in his temple as he recognized the truth in your words. "You don't control fuck all."
"Oh, is that right?" you snarled, leaning forward and pushing your hands into his stomach, pressing down on his wound with added force, now. His face twisted in pain, and he let out a strained grunt. "How about now?"
Your heart was thundering with adrenaline, and while you had undoubtedly expected him to be furious at you for causing him harm, as he met your gaze, you saw something else entirely. There was a desperate need in his eyes, a yearning for more of the pain and pleasure that only you could provide. His lips were parted, his breaths coming in short gasps as he struggled to contain the sensations coursing through him. Despite the pain, there was a sense of longing that tugged at your heartstrings, filling you with a powerful desire for more of this intoxicating mixture.
"More," he whispered, his voice low and husky with need, barely above a breath. "Do it again."
"Oh, I don't fucking think so..." you sneered, your cunt clenching involuntarily at his request. But you were determined to make this man suffer. To humiliate him just as bad as he'd humiliated you, time and time again. "If you want something, you’ll have to ask for it nicely…I want to hear you beg for me."
Mattheo grunted again, bucking his hips, trying to grind back despite the pain of his injuries. Finding that impossible, his hands went to your waist, gliding up and down your thighs as he attempted to move you faster along his member, craning his head forward to get a better view. You scowled and smacked him away.
"I don't recall extending an invitation for your touch," you asserted, a glacial edge to your voice. "Why would I want your hands on me? After everything you've fucking done?"
His fingers balled into fists, exhaling when his head fell back against the pillow. You could feel him aching below you, already entirely fucking anxious to get inside of you. But then, he was still, hungry eyes trained on yours as he waited for your prompt.
"That's better," you purred, and found the next words coming out before you'd even thought them. "Good boy."
Your hips moved sinuously against his, a deliberate motion that left him breathless, his fists tensing against the desire to seize hold of your flesh. The surge of power was intoxicating, a heady blend with the fervor of your overwhelming desire and simmering rage. More than ever, your yearning for him to suffer consumed you. With a wicked grin, you lifted your hand to your lips, sensually running your tongue along the length of your crimson-stained fingers, sucking off the remnants of his blood. The sharp note of copper lit up your palate, sending a delightful shiver through your being.
"Mmm...you taste so good." You met his gaze between the long licks of your digits, his taste coating your mouth. "Wanna try?"
Mattheo remained silent, his gaze tracing the movement of your tongue as he moistened his lower lip. You enveloped one of your fingers with your lips, emitting a soft hum as you sensually cleaned it, gliding it in and out with deliberate slowness. Finally, you withdrew it with a wet pop, eyes rolling in dramatic effect.
Mattheo's jaw constricted, the sinews in his forearms taut from the tension in his fists. "Please..."
But you, unfazed, dipped your fingers back into the trail of blood leaking from his gash, adorning your skin with a bold red hue before returning them to your mouth.
"Mm, not good enough, I’m afraid..." you murmured, eyes twinkling with sadistic satisfaction. "You'll have to do much better than that, big boy..."
A growl echoed in Mattheo's throat while he gripped your thighs, pushing you down onto his swollen cock. His own hips thrust up against you, seeking any friction, any pressure at all from your heat. Frowning, you slapped his hand--and to your amazement, he pulled back, averting his gaze.
"These hands of yours are growing quite fucking insolent," you observed with a sly smile. "It's high time we addressed their rude misbehaviour."
A sinister grin etched across your lips as you shifted, smoothly extracting your wand from its thigh strap. With a deft flick, you summoned restraints, securing Mattheo's wrists to the metal headboard. His lips parted, eyes smouldering with desire, pulsating beneath you as the tightness closed around his wrists. Once finished, another few flicks ensured the door was locked, and the room was cloaked in a silencing charm.
"Much better," you said, tossing your wand aside. The gleam in your eye was almost maniacal as you reveled in the exquisite agony you were causing him, feeling a sense of power and control that you had never experienced before. "How's that feel, hm? Ready to utter those pleas for me, Riddle?"
"You're going to regret this, little witch..."  he spat out through gritted teeth, his gaze locked onto yours. "Nothing you could do to me is worse than the fate that awaits you when I get out of here…your days are fucking numbered."
Involuntarily, you clenched at his threat, a sly smirk playing on your lips as you dipped your fingers back into the pool of blood emanating from his wound--and with a decisive move, you seized his jaw with your free hand, thrusting your bloodied fingers past his teeth before he could voice a protest.
"Now isn't the time for your futile threats, Mattheo," you husked, tilting your head. Your fingers pushed forcefully into his throat, emphasizing your point. "Look how fucking pathetic you are...if only your friends could see you now...big tough guy, bound and gagged by his own bitch…it’s beautiful, really."
Abruptly, you withdrew your fingers, leaning back to assess your handiwork. His wrists were securely bound, a vivid red imprint gracing his skin, while his mouth shimmered with the subtle traces of his own blood. It was a tableau of perfection--humiliating yet exquisitely so. The image of him squirming against the taut restraints, his chest rising and falling with each desperate breath, compelled your hand between your legs. Sliding up your skirt, you explored through the delicate lace of your panties, skimming eagerly over your clit.
"Fuck," you murmured, glimpsing his mouth, “you look perfect like this."
This was retribution, and as you teased yourself while admiring the pathetic sight of him, thoughts buzzed with the torment he'd inflicted--the scalding intensity of his erratic behavior, the icy indifference he wielded, treating you with disdain, unfounded accusations of infidelity, and the frigid distance he maintained. The searing resentment flared as you recollected the havoc he'd wreaked upon your life.
It was months of emotional manipulation. A pattern that was impossible to acclimate to. His cycle of hot and cold, the relentless mistreatment, the baseless accusations, and the moments of aloofness, all preceding his inevitable return, pleading for your affection--this was the culmination of his deeds. More than anything, this was the reckoning he deserved.
"Come on, princess..." he muttered, eyes wide and pleading. "For Godrics sake, please...fucking please..."
A grin creeped across your lips, your heart leaping with excitement. You'd finally fucking broke him.
"There we go, Matty...that wasn't so hard, was it?" You purred, inching backwards along the length of his thighs, reaching out to pull the cover from his waist in an excruciatingly slow fashion, exposing his black briefs. "I love hearing you beg for me...you're being such a good boy..."
Mattheo's response came in the form of an exaggerated huff, and his eyes locked onto yours, silently pleading for your touch to alleviate the burning desire between his legs. Your grin expanded, reveling in the palpable tension.
"You want me to fuck you, Matty? Do you think you fucking deserve that?" You cooed as you caressed his erection through the fabric, glaring at him while he jerked and shook from your touch. It was incredible, watching him trying to thrust into your fist, whimpering, head lolling while you sped your ministrations. "Do you think you fucking deserve me?"
His groan reverberated, his body twitching beneath the firm clasp of your fingers. His lids fluttered, and his head arched back in a nearly imperceptible shake of denial.
"You never fucking deserved me, did you?" Your frustration at his silence echoed in the air as you delivered a sharp crack across his face, prompting a gasp from him. "Fucking answer me, Mattheo!"
"No!" he finally hissed, his knuckles whitening as his entire frame tensed. "Fuck! No! I didn’t…”
"That's right, you didn't…” you laughed, shaking your head. The sinful delight coursing through you at his torment was undeniable. "At least you can finally fucking admit it...a tiny step towards what might pass as progress, I suppose."
As Mattheo huffed, not daring to meet your eyes, you sighed, finally feeling as though some of your anger had dissipated. Not by much, but by enough. Granting him the smallest percentage of mercy, you wrapped your fingers around the waistband of his boxers, freeing his needy, throbbing cock--the length of his smooth heat springing back and slapping against his belly, a low groan leaving the depths of his throat as it did.
You clenched at the sight, the pool of heat in your abdomen expanding throughout your entire body now, your mouth practically watering at the mere vision of him. Just when you thought this whole thing couldn't get anymore perfect. Gods, he was undeniably fucking delicious.
"Tell me what you want, Mattheo..." you said, wrapping your fingers around his cock, slicking the bead of precum around the head, twisting your wrist as you stroked him. "Tell me what you need."
His eyelids pressed together in bliss as he panted, the rhythmic movement of his throat visible with each swallow. In the throes of pleasure, he surrendered himself to the intensity of your touch, the heat enveloping him in a cocoon of sensation.
"You..." was his only reply, head snapping back and forth, thighs tensing, cock twitching. "Please-fuck-"
"You like that?" you purred, biting your lip. "You like when I jerk your cock like this? Hm?"
Mattheo's jaw was slack with desire, his voice laced with breathy need, "yes..."
"Yeah?" You purred, tightening your grip, increasing your pace as you stroked him, leaning down slightly to spit on the tip, slicking your saliva along his shaft. "Who else could make you beg, huh? Who the fuck else can make you this fucking hard?"
"Fuck-" he choked, chest rising and falling in shallow bursts, you could tell he was close. "No one-princess-fucking no one..."
"Mhm...that's fucking right, Riddle..." smiling, you threw your head back, your other hand resuming its motion on your clit, teasing yourself as you continued stroking him. "You know you can't fucking live without this...I don't know why you have to make things so goddamn complicated..."
"Fuck," he hissed, sputtering your name, "please, fuck me, please. I fucking need you."
"Shit...you're just spoiling me now," you mewled, your pussy clenching undoubtedly at his words. "Such a good boy...so eager to please me, hm?"
Mattheo released a long, exasperated sigh as you released him, shifting yourself closer. With a swift motion, you shimmied your panties to the side before you aligned his cock with your dripping core--the moan that escaped your throat was deep and lengthy as you sank onto him, feeling every inch of his hard, aching cock stretching you wide, filling you up with ease. Mattheo's body lifted from the bed in response, a sound somewhere between a sob and a scream escaping his chest as you enveloped him to the hilt. Leaning forward, you placed your palms on his stomach, shifting your weight to the heels of your hands as you began to slide up and down his shaft.
"Fuck," you breathed, lids fluttering. "I missed this cock...shit, you feel so good..."
Mattheo's only response was a string of shameless, guttural moans, his eyes rolling to the back of his head as he surrendered to the potent mix of pleasure and pain. His body writhed beneath yours, his abdominals tightening in response to your movements. You panted heavily, bouncing up and down on his cock, taking pleasure in every inch of him slamming deep into your wet, eager pussy.
With each movement, you drove Mattheo wild with desire, listening to his moans grow louder and more intense with each passing moment.
Having control was entirely different--you were able to drag him into you, squeeze him tight with your walls while you slowed your pace, slam down onto him and make him howl. You watched him struggle below you, realizing he was trapped at his peak--and you were happy about it. This. This was close to what he deserved.
"I fucking hate you," you growled, the depth of your emotion evident in every word. "You embedded yourself into every part of my life and now you want to just fucking end things? Just go back to being fucking strangers? Over nothing?" Your voice cracked, the words flowing from your lips without restraint as you continued to ride him, hips moving in an untamed rhythm. "Why do you always fucking do this to me? Fuck-why?..."
Between his deep groans, his shuddering gasps as his wrists fighting their resistance, he managed to shake his head, his noises only growing louder the harder your rode him.
"I...I'm..." the words were forced through barred teeth, his eyes pleading for mercy. "I'm fucking sorry."
"Are you mine, Mattheo?" Your voice was strained with exertion, sweat growing on your forehead. "Were you ever fucking mine? Or was it all just a big game to you?"
"No,” he stammered, almost wincing. "No!"
Unable to resist the intense sensations coursing through you any longer, you brought your fingers back to your clit, setting a frenzied pace as you massaged the stiff nub with the pads of your fingers. You could feel Mattheo pulsing inside you, could feel his overly urgent need to cum, but right now, all that mattered was your own pleasure. As you worked yourself toward climax, your breaths grew ragged, soft moans escaping your lips as your body responded to your own touch. The pressure inside of you was building with each passing moment, urgent and insistent, and you knew that you wouldn't be able to hold off for much longer.
"Say it," you panted, eyes rolling and body trembling as you slammed down on him again and again. "Tell me who you fucking belong to."
"Fuck-fuck..." he grunted, teeth bared, eyes squeezed shut in concentration. "Please, princess...you keep squeezing me like that and I'm going to fucking cum-"
"If you want to cum, you'll fucking say it, Mattheo-" you practically moaned, entire body quivering with excitement. "Fuck-say it..."
A string of whimpers slipped past Mattheo's lips, his fists balled so tight it looked almost painful. "Fuck--you! I'm yours, fuck..."
Every word leaving you was a curse, and between every word was a strangled moan, resonating through your throat as you worked your clit fasting, fucking yourself on his cock harder.
"Gods, Matty, I'm going to cum," you moaned. "I'm going to cum on this thick fucking cock-fuck..."
Without being able to hold off any longer, you shattered, your hips jerking and twitching in an erratic rhythm, free hand digging into the flesh of his chest as you clenched and pulsed around him, forcing another onslaught of pleasured whimpers to leave his throat before he too reached his high--the tight heat of your orgasm sending him over the edge, twitching and thrashing beneath you as you continued riding him through your collective highs, not beginning to slow until the aftershocks began to rumble through you.
And after you stalled, you allowed yourself a moment to regain composure before you wearily eased yourself off him, releasing a prolonged breath--with a cautious movement, you reached over and gathered a sampling of your intertwined cum on the pads of your fingers, briskly bringing them up to his lips.
"Taste what I did to you," you murmured with a smirk, relishing in his groan against your flesh. Methodically, you glided your fingers against his bottom teeth, leisurely pulling them from his mouth. "Tastes good, doesn't it?"
His breaths lingered in the air, an unspoken acknowledgment of his silence, his eyes seemingly unable to leave your form. With deliberate movements, you leaned over, deftly undoing the restraints that bound him. As you meticulously adjusted your appearance back to its usual state, a mask of calm control, your gaze shifted towards the door, a calculated glance.
"May your recovery be swift, Riddle," you uttered with a tone that held a hint of farewell. "Until next time."
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kalak · 1 year
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Luke was an invasive species in the tatooine ecosystem if you think about it, like he grew up in a space deathworld full of bounty hunters and slavers and this pansy boy was like ugh.... this place is so boring.. nothing to do... what do you MEAN you moisture boy sandstorms come in once a month there's the constant danger of tusken raiders jabba tries to raise the water tax every other week there's a fight in the marketplace every single day, what do you MEAN its boring
He shot womprats in his spare time and he was like oh.. so boring.. so bland :((( meanwhile the womprats are feral creatures the size of a wolf that can bite your head off, he threaded the needle with his skyhopper in breakneck speed and he was like :] fun and wacky activities to do with your friends,, seriously it's no wonder that he took all the wacky jedi stuff in stride because that's literally what's normal for him. Insane stuff happening all around him is just another Taungsday, he did shit like this every day after his chores were done on Tatooine. As a jedi he's like oh golly gee! Another beautiful day of smashing stuff and raising hell! His head is full of flowers. But those flowers are carnivorous and also insane
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malfoyscoffee · 5 months
Text
call me theo
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pairing: theodore nott x ex!reader
warnings: some time skip.
“Friends?”
“Friends.”
That marked the end of your two-year relationship with Theodore. As he said his final word, you turned away, walking down the winding steps of the Astronomy Tower, holding back the emotions until you returned to your dormitory.
The night blurred into a haze of tears, finding comfort in Pansy’s shoulder as both of you nestled on the dorm floor. Hours passed in a cocoon of sadness before Blaise, Mattheo, Lorenzo, and even Draco appeared with snacks and muggle movies, trying to lift your spirits.
Wrapped up in your distress, you didn't think to ask how they found out about your breakup. Unbeknownst to you, amidst his own pain, Theodore asked his friends to comfort you instead of him.
⋆。 ゚☁︎。 ⋆。 ゚☾ ゚。 ⋆
Three weeks had gone by since the breakup. As promised, you and Theodore went back to being friends, just like before, merely two friends within the same tight-knit circle. But beneath the surface of friendliness, your friends noticed the underlying tension between you and Theodore, silently wishing for a reunion.
It was a random morning in the Great Hall when you announced to your friends that you would be occupied before dinner to take on the extra credit assignment for Herbology. Your friends looked at you strangely, the assignment was unnecessary for someone with such high marks, but inside you wanted a distraction from everything.
Back in the common room, the attention shifted to Theodore, the elephant in the room finally about to be addressed.
“So, what led to the breakup?” Blaise relaxed in his chair while Theodore sighed, looking at the ceiling.
“She didn’t say why, but she mentioned that you initiated the breakup,” Draco said casually, trying to hide his interest for the situation.
“I told her she deserved better.”
Silence.
Suddenly, Lorenzo burst into laughter.
“Salazar, Enzo,” Pansy stood, disregarding Lorenzo's reaction. “So, let me get this straight,” she pointed her finger at Theodore, “You're saying the reason the group has been down is because you decided she deserved someone better?”
Mattheo set aside his cigarette, “Didn’t expect you to be so naive, mate.”
Blaise nodded, “Thinking that's an explanation. (Y/n) adores you, where will you find a girl better than her?”
Theodore’s face paled, “She’ll find someone better and eventually leave me. I couldn’t handle that.”
Draco stayed composed, “So you ended it first. Well done, Theo.”
Theodore buried his face in his hands, letting out an exasperated groan. “You all know she has a promising future after graduation. Why should she stay with me and be held back?”
“Did you talk to her about this, or did your insecurities make the call?” Lorenzo’s words made Theodore freeze, lost in thought.
Pansy packed up, checking the time. “Dinner’s soon. Let’s go.”
The boys followed Pansy, leaving Theodore alone, contemplating if his decision was right for your relationship.
⋆。 ゚☁︎。 ⋆。 ゚☾ ゚。 ⋆
"I got the job!"
Strolling around Hogsmeade with Blaise and Pansy, you stumbled upon a new place—a wizarding coffee shop. Your liking for muggle coffeehouses sparked your curiosity, pushing you to ask about potential employment.
Excitement bubbled as you shared the news with your friends in the Great Hall.
“We’ve got a place to visit now.” Lorenzo grinned, aware it might bring some joy after a while.
Pansy nudged Draco, "Let’s study there. OWLS are coming up and some muggle coffee might help."
Draco glanced at Theodore, who sat in silence, unsure of what to say. “That sounds like a plan. I could use some muggle coffee.”
They all knew Draco was convincing Theodore to join.
"When do you start?" Mattheo asked between sips of hot chocolate.
You remembered your upcoming schedule, “Next week, Wednesdays and Saturdays? Once I’m trained, next Saturday, I’ll treat you all to some amazing muggle coffee."
The group agreed, planning to meet at your workplace next Saturday.
⋆。 ゚☁︎。 ⋆。 ゚☾ ゚。 ⋆
“Five cups of regular iced coffee, please.” You operated the muggle machine, engrossed in fulfilling the order.
“Oh, hey, Theodore. Are the others here?” You looked around, causing Theodore’s shoulders to slump slightly.
“They're at the big corner table. Enzo insisted the natural sunlight would help with studying…”
A soft chuckle escaped, “You can go back, I’ll bring the drinks over when ready.” Theodore nodded, returning to the café’s corner.
Blaise grabbed the first cup but stopped when Pansy teased him. “Don’t hog! Share!”
“How does it taste?” you asked, turning to your friends.
“(Y/n), muggle coffee is amazing.” Mattheo praised, soon followed by Blaise signaling he finished his drink.
“I should tell my father about this place,” Draco chimed in, and before you knew it, all the cups were empty.
“I should get back to work, see you at dinner.”
“What time do you finish?” Theodore's sudden interest surprised everyone.
“(Y/n)?”
"I'm done around six," You said while feeling a bit overwhelmed inside.
Theodore nodded, indicating your return to work.
Numerous customers kept you busy. Though you didn’t need money, the experience was enriching.
While your friends left at five, Theodore stayed. He moved to a quiet spot facing the counter where you worked.
Ignoring his shift, you focused on the new customers who walked in.
“(Y/n), it's six, you can leave,” your boss said, offering a pastry.
“Thanks,” grabbing your coat, you started to leave the kitchen.
“Are you done?” Theodore was poised by the counter, waiting for your response.
“Theodore, did you wait?”
Signaling to walk together, he said, “I had a few assignments that I wanted to finish early so I stayed longer.” His nervous fidgeting gave away his lie, his habit you remembered from your past relationship.
You hummed, touched by his waiting.
“I might visit often. I didn't mention earlier, but the coffee’s great.”
Walking back to Hogwarts, feelings for Theodore surfaced since the breakup.
How could you move on when he acted this way?
For two months, Theodore kept his promise, visiting the café every Wednesday and Saturday, bringing schoolwork, and leaving with you.
You felt the emotions returning but you were scared to get hurt. After all, he initiated the breakup, right?
Your friends noticed Theodore’s absence on your workdays, understanding where Theodore was without verbal explanation.
“One large iced coffee, please.” You prepared a cup, “And your name?”
“Theo.”
“Oh,” You looked up at Theodore. “One large iced coffee for Theodore.” You repeated his order and placed the cup down.
“Why don’t you call me Theo anymore?” His disappointment was evident.
Meeting his gaze, you explained, “Because we’re just friends.”
Theodore observed the cup, then you.
“You know what, I think I forgot something at my dorm. I’m going to go.” His tone was sharper than he meant, leaving the café abruptly.
⋆。 ゚☁︎。 ⋆。 ゚☾ ゚。 ⋆
“Now you're the clueless one. Salazar, why do I have two of them?” Lorenzo dramatized, earning an eye roll from you.
Theodore disappeared after the café meeting. Unaware of his whereabouts, your friends gathered in the common room, waiting for his return.
“I mean, (Y/n), Enzo's right,” Pansy said, sipping the muggle coffee you brewed for the group.
“He ended things months ago. I don’t see why you're all on his side.” Frowning, you didn’t grasp their empathy toward Theodore.
“(Y/n), listen,” Blaise interrupted, “Regardless of who initiated the breakup, Theodore has come to your café twice a week for months, just to be spend time with you.”
Draco echoed Blaise’s sentiments. “OWLS were done a month ago, yet he still visits. Give Theo credit for trying.”
You sighed, “I care for him, but I don’t want to be hurt again. He should just tell me. His actions are misleading if he doesn’t want to reconcile.”
Lost in thought, the warmth of the common room enveloped you, the crackling fire providing a soothing ambiance.
As evening approached, your thoughts circled Theodore’s sudden exit from the café, leaving you unsettled, your mind in disarray.
Unnoticed, the common room door creaked open. Theodore entered, visibly anxious. His eyes met yours, a blend of hesitation and resolve painting his expression.
The room fell silent as Theodore approached you, a mix of emotions playing across his face. Without a word, you got up and led him out of the common room.
The two of you reached the Blake Lake, facing each other, as tension filled the air. Theodore struggled with his thoughts, torn between holding back and speaking up.
“I’m sorry for earlier,” he started, a hint of regret in his tone. “I didn’t mean to leave abruptly. I've been struggling, (Y/n).”
“Struggling? With what, Theodore?”
Gathering his thoughts, he spoke earnestly. “With everything between us. The breakup, it wasn't about not caring about you. I was scared.”
“Scared?” Your voice softened, understanding blooming within.
Theodore nodded, his eyes never leaving yours. “I was scared that you would realize I was holding you back and leave me. So I thought if I let you go, you would be better off.”
Your heart ached, his honesty striking a chord with your own doubts. “But, Theodore, you never gave me a chance to choose. You made that decision for me.”
“I know, and I regret it every day.” Remorse filled his words, his vulnerability evident. “I visited the café because I wanted to be near you. But I understand if it’s been confusing for you.”
Silence hung, emotions swirling like a storm.
“I never stopped loving you,” you whispered, emotions stirring within.
He met your gaze, “I don't want to lose you again, (Y/n). I want us to start over, I'll do everything to make things right.”
“Let's take it slow, Theodore. Start over and let's see where it takes us.”
A soft smile appeared on his face, relief in his eyes. “I promise, I'll do everything.”
"I've missed this," Theodore confessed softly, his eyes reflecting a mixture of emotions.
You gently squeezed his hand, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "Me too. I think we both needed this time to figure things out."
Theodore stopped walking, turning to face you with resolve. "I want us to try again, to be together, properly this time.”
Your heart skipped a beat, warmth spreading through you at his words. You looked into his eyes, seeing a depth of sincerity that reassured you more than any words could. "I want that too, Theodore. Let's give us another chance."
With that shared agreement, a sense of relief and joy washed over both of you. Walking hand in hand, Theodore smiled for the first time in months.
“Now, will you call me Theo?”
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© Malfoyscoffee. All rights reserved. Any redistribution or reproduction of part or all the contents in any form is prohibited.
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Prettiest Witch at Hogwarts (Theodore Nott x fem!reader)
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Warnings: small italian!thoe, friends to lovers, comfort, angst, cussing, flirting, bad writing
a/n- this was not a request, but I did have a really good time writing it! I love this fic so much for no reason
word count- 847
“You, my dear, are the prettiest girl I have ever met,” Pansy said, dropping her voice an octave, reenacting what a boy had done to you today in an attempt to woo you. Her hand brushing your cheek the same way the boy had attempted to do makes you burst out in a loud laughter, causing the rest of the group to follow along.
“The poor bloke! Did he seriously think that would work?” Mattheo cackles, wiping a tear from his eye.
“I swear, I can never get a break! You four are the only boys that don’t chase after me!” You sigh, leaning back into the cushion of the couch, unbeknownst to you Pansy sends Theo a small smirk with raised eyebrows. Pansy was the only person that knew about your mild crush on Theodore Nott, your best friend. Pansy and Mattheo both knew that Theo has been in love with you for years. To everyone though, it was obvious that the lingering glances meant more than friends to the both of you.
The group decided to spend the rest of the night making fun of all of the boys that have tried to get with you since your growth spurt in 4th year.
“You’re gonna let me take you out to Hogsmeade, right?” Adriand Pucy, a boy you have rejected over and over since day one, asks you, leaning up against the exit of the Slytherin common room.
“Haven’t I told you no already today?” You reply, stopping and looking up at him with disgust present on your face.
“I know you don’t have a date, so why don’t you just give me a chance, let me take you out,” The boy says, pushing off of the wall in what was supposed to look attractive, ultimately failing in the end though.
“Who told you she doesn’t have a date? Come on bella, lets go,” Theo says, slinging his arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer into him, engulfing you in the smell of his expensive-smelling cologne.
“Out of all the boys she could choose you really think she’d pick you? You wouldn’t even be on her top ten,” Pucy says, glaring at the taller boy.
“Merlin Pucy, have some self respect! If you ever thought you had a chance with me you certainly have less of one than before,” you say, giving him the dirtiest look you could possibly muster, and pulling Theo away from him and towards your dorm.
You knew Theo almost better than you knew yourself. Even though Theo was the most handsome boy in the school and had his fair share of women, you knew that the mean words Pucy had said would get to him atelast a little bit. He was a Slytherin, but deep down he was still the sensitive boy you’d known for years.
“Are you alright, Theo?” You ask, sitting on your bed and scooting over so he could have room.
“I should be the one asking you that,” He replied with a sad smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.
“You know that Pucy is just an asshole right? You would definitely be in at least my top 3,” You say after a couple of seconds, attempting to lighten the mood and make him feel better. 
“You don’t have to lie to make me feel better,” He says, looking at you with his sad blue eyes.
“Theo, I’m not lying,” You answer, scooting towards him to show your sincereness.
“Did one of them tell you?” He says, hurt filling his eyes and his body language rigid.
“Did who tell me what?” You ask, putting a hand on his back to comfort him, his posture relaxing a little.
Theo looks up at you, his eyes softening a little, “You’re so amazing,” He says softly after a couple of seconds of looking at you.
“Oh come on Theo,” You say, blushing slightly, looking up at him through your eyelashes.
“It’s true. You’re so beautiful,” He says, putting some hair behind your ear, and giving you a smile, showing you his beautifully crooked teeth.
“And you are a flirt. To think you’d never chase after me,” You say, giving him the same smile.
“Would I- um, would I really be in the top three guys?” He asks, looking at you with a serious expression.
“I would date you before I even gave another guy even a look,” You reply, giving him a soft look.
“Are you sure about that though? You know I’m kind of a mess up,” He says, looking away from you.
“It means more to me that you think that I’m amazing and beautiful. I don’t think I would even be able to explain to you how it makes me feel when you call me by your stupid Italian nicknames,” You reply, waiting for an answer. You don’t wait long and you don’t get a verbal response. Theo pulls you in and gives you a soft kiss on your lips. It’s not how he kisses girls at parties, it’s soft and full of love and adoration.
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thats that me espresso!! // theodore nott x fem reader
playlist: espresso - sabrina carpenter
summary : theodore nott hasnt slept in days, and it was for one reason only. (or one person)
fluff , hufflepuff reader , y/n , short
lucky girl syndrome!! (another theo fic) masterlist
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rubbing his eyes wearily , theodore nott poked at his breakfast , feeling the eyes of concerened friends burning into him.
"what?" he asked blankly finally looking up at his friends.
"theo is something wrong?" lorenzo asked with genuine concern snaking through his face and tone.
"yes something- no someone is wrong!" theodore said angrily as he dropped his fork , "i have not slept well for days!"
"why?" draco asked , not really that bothered by theodores insomnia , just wanting to get the tired vibe out of the friendgroup.
"because..beacause!" he started before pausing each time , finally sighing and saying in a hushed voice ,"her!"
his whisper shout and eyes staring into the distance made the whole friend group follow his eyeline , landing on a hufflepuff girl talking to her friends , y/n.
"stop staring!" he said loudly making the whole group turn back to him , drawing their eyes away from the girl , eventhough theodore himself didnt look away.
"y/n? what has she done?" lorenzo asked , confused why his hufflepuff friend would be causing theodore struggle.
"great , of course youre on a first name basis with her!" theodore seethed in jealousy finally tearing his eyes away from your smiling face , "shes not really....done anything.. God i dont know shes like an espresso , i cant look at her without getting a burst of energy! and i cant stop thinking about her its keeping me up all fucking night!!"
the group watched as theodore ranted , exchanging knowing looks before pansy decided to speak up , "theodore dont get angry with that poor girl , its not her fault you like her!"
"how could i ever get angry with her," theodore muttered and stopped talking , until matteos laugh filled the short silence , "what are you laughing at dickhead!" theodore snapped , assuming matteo was laughing at him.
"oh nothing im just laughing at diggory trying to chat up your girl," matteo smirked watching everyone frantically look back to the hufflepuff girl , only to see that she was still sat and talking with her friends , cedric no where to be seen.
theodore , who had stood up in a panic smacked matteo on the back of the head and angrily snapped at the laughing boy, "shut up man not funny."
"sorry , sorry youre really gulible ," matteo laughed to himself , draco smirking at the two.
"i shoudlve never told you lot ," theodore grumbled himself , going back to poking his food.
"dont be like that theo , just a bit of fun , " blaise smirked as theodore threw him an angry look.
"no but seriously theodore , you cant let yourself be exhausted because of a girl" pansy said.
"shes not just a girl , shes nice and funny and beautiful and!-... im pathetic," theo sighed in frustration and ran a hand through his curls.
"im done with all this sappy , annoying shit , go ask her to hogsmeade or ill do it. and trust me i wont rest until she falls in love with me, " draco warned , attempting at making his friend confess.
"DONT!" theodore shouted at him , immediatly letting embrassment sink in as everyone , including you, turned to look at him, "ill....do it"
lorenzo and pansy spoke words of encouragment as the petrified boy rose from the table , draco , matteo and blaise forgetting the whole ordeal and discussing quidditch instead.
once theodore was far enough from the table pansy turned to enzo , "why is that the most emotion ive ever seen out of him in our whole lifelong friendship?"
"dunno , hufflepuffs are really effective i guess," enzo shrugged before they both skipped to another conversation and started eating again.
----
theodore walked towards your table with a confident stride , stopping behind you and sliding in next to you on the bench , close enough to the point that your bodies were pressed togther. as you jumped in suprise theo gave you a flirty smile and stared you dead in the eye.
"hi theodore , can i help you?" you asked wearily , glancing away from him and at your confused friends for a split second.
"yes, you can ," thedore smirked , "how about hogsmeade , this weekend , you and me?"
you physically paused as your mouth hung open , this was the second time you had ever talked to theodore nott and he was suddenly asking you out??!
"oh um....yeah - yeah sure id love to" you gave him a smile , a little cautious and very much confused.
"great , see you then beautiful ,"he winked, planting a kiss on your cheek before slipping out of the bench and confidently walking back to the slytherin table.
you looked at your friends with deep confusion, before going on to watch theo walk away , whilst your friends yapped about how hot he is.
-----
"so how was it?" pansy asked theodore as he sat down.
he quickly dropped his confident , cool face and let a wide grin bless his features , "perfect!!! she said yes! i walked up and acted real calm and collected ,and she didnt know i was nervous at all!!"
pansy and lorenzo smiled at him as the other boys just ignored him , uninterested. "thats great theo! so are you gonna be able to sleep now?" enzo laughed.
"like a baby." theodore grinned.
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evergone · 6 months
Note
Hey!! Idk know if you are taking requests right now but can you write a Theo x Hufflepuff reader imagine where the reader is always telling him to make friends from other houses. He finally does make friends but with a beautiful Ravenclaw and starts spending more time with her. The reader starts feeling insecure and ignores Theo. He soon realises that she is ignoring him and talks to her.
Btw I love your writing and can you please tag me if you do write it?
Too Friendly
Theodore Nott x reader
Warnings: Swearing, allusions to sex but no sex.
Description: The reader wants Theo to make more friends but when he does, she becomes insecure about their bond.
Sorry this took so long to get out, I'm in the middle of my final exams of high school so I don't have much time. I enjoyed writing this one. Thanks for the request @orphicmortala
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“It’s sad, Theo, you’ve got, like, no friends!” You said as you tried your best to remember how to tie your yellow tie.
“What do you call Malfoy, then?” Theo asked from the bed.
“An accomplice,” you replied with that unique snark that Theo loved about you, “You need friends from other houses— Friends that aren’t just me.” You added those final words hastily before he could open his mouth in protest.
Theo rolled his eyes and beckoned you over. His hands glided over the folds of your tie with expertise, undoing the mess of a knot you’d created in order to do it up properly and perfectly. When he was done, he looked up at you with his gorgeous, oceanic eyes and the corners of his mouth where both his beautiful lips connected turned upwards. You uttered your thanks quietly as you resisted the primal urge to just not go to class at all and instead spend the whole day with him. Your mind wandered off to imagine being stuck between Theo’s checkered emerald sheets, but you brought it back to reality.
Fending off your lustful desires as well as a nun would, you bid adieu to Theo and hurried out of his room and the Slytherin common room. On your way out, you dodged the teasingly crude jokes and names that Theo’s friends tossed towards you and told Pansy that she was no better than yourself (you’d seen the way she snuck out of that empty classroom after Draco a couple days earlier, her hair and clothes all dishevelled and her thighs rubbing together uncomfortably).
The whole day, Theo dwelled on your words. While you weren’t exactly dating or in a relationship, he always found himself bound to your every word and every whim. You seemed to dictate his life in a way that you certainly shouldn’t, but he couldn’t help but listen to you. So, in Arithmancy, he didn’t sit next to Blaise as he usually did, instead electing to sit with Lisa Turpin, a Ravenclaw girl he’d seen you talk to a few times.
She looked at him in confusion, “Did you need something?”
He withheld the instinct to say some snide remark and instead replied, “I thought I’d make a new friend today.”
“On some random Tuesday… in our Sixth year?” Her face contorted to expose her obvious disgust.
“Merlin’s cock and balls, I’m trying to be nice, Turpin!” Theo frowned and picked up his bag to go sit elsewhere.
Turpin grabbed his wrist as he stood up and her lips made a thin line as she pulled him back down to the seat. Her brows knitted together like a homemade sweater and she breathed out a sigh of defeat.
“No, it’s okay, sorry,” she said, “Sit here if you’d like.”
Over the next week, Theo made some serious efforts to get to know Turpin despite his friends’ obvious, loud verbal opposition. After that first Arithmancy class, Blaise had practically torn him to shreds with his massive speech on house loyalty and the horrible impact that you were clearly having on him. Daphne had recited the same speech her mother had given to her on her first day of her first year at school about how interrelations with students from the lesser houses was a gateway drug to blood sympathy (she’d given him the same speech when he started his little thing with you). And Pansy, Merlin’s beard, Pansy was furious.
Pansy had constructed this whole idea in her mind that you hated that Theo was talking to Turpin. She called it “cheating” which Theo had adamantly disagreed with. He wasn’t having sex with Turpin, in fact, he had absolutely zero romantic interest in her. He barely even liked her. The only thing the two had in common was Arithmancy and every time they hung out they talked about it until there was no more Arithmancy to talk about. It was, quite frankly, boring. Turpin was boring.
“It’s emotional cheating,” said Pansy in a huff as she and the others started towards the Great Hall for Monday breakfast.
“Emotional cheating?” Theo asked skeptically.
“Yes, Nott, emotional cheating,” she nodded, “And it’s hurting Y/n’s feelings. That’s why she hasn’t spoken to you all week.”
His gaze snapped to focus on Pansy whose black eyes were ablaze with the feminine rage of a girl’s best friend, “How do you know she hasn’t spoken to me all week?”
Pansy smirked, her honey red lipstick bright against her pale skin, and shrugged. She knew you hadn’t spoken to him all week because you wouldn’t shut up about it. In Divination on Wednesday afternoon, you’d all but assaulted Pansy with questions about Theo’s newfound interest in Turpin. All of which Pansy had no helpful responses to.
“Is he flirting with her?” You asked.
“Maybe, I don’t know, it’s not like they sit with us,” said Pansy, struggling to focus on the crystal ball with all your chatter.
“Why not? Why don’t they sit with you? Are they trying to be private?” You pushed almost frantically.
“Uh, possibly? Honestly, I just think he knows we don’t like her,” she explained.
“Why don’t you like her? Is she a bitch?” You frowned and then quickly added in a judgmental tone, “Or are you just being blood supremacists?”
“Is she a mudblood?” Pansy stopped working to stare at you.
You smacked her hand and she hissed, “I don’t know her that well. Don’t say that.”
When Theo and his friends finally arrived at the Great Hall, he searched the tables for your face. While most people usually stuck to their house’s table, you were a social butterfly and loved to flutter from table-to-table to talk to all of your many friends. Sometimes he wondered how you weren’t a prefect despite your popularity and the respect the younger years gave you. His eyes found Turpin first and she beamed and waved him over, but he blatantly ignored her. Pansy and Daphne watched on with delight as the girl cringed with embarrassment and turned back to her meal with bright red ears.
A spot of h/c hair floated above a robe lined with yellow and he abandoned his friends to go to you. You were standing at the end of the Hufflepuff table (not an unusual place to find you, but your favourite table was always the Slytherin one), and you were utterly consumed by a tale you were sewing for your housemates Hannah Abbott and Justin Finch-Fletchley.
“Y/n,” Theo spoke and his deep, smokey voice tore you straight out of your conversation, “Can we talk?”
Your eyebrows quivered and your blinking sped up as you took his appearance in for the first time all week. You hadn’t gone so long without speaking to him in at least three years (you got into an argument in your third year about the petrifications) and hearing his voice and seeing him so close was like throwing a former alcoholic into a sea of wine. There was nothing you wanted more than to indulge in him. But Hannah and Justin were glaring at him like hawks, or guard dogs, whichever was more intimidating.
“Um,” you glanced back at your friends and Hannah shook her head slightly, she’d never much liked Theo, “Sure.”
Hannah rolled her eyes and whispered something barely audible to Justin. Something about a “love-fucked pushover.” You ignored her. Theo took you to a pair of seats far from any prying ears and held your hands in his.
“You know I don’t like Turpin, right?” He said quietly.
You scoffed, “Yeah, right. And that’s why you spent all week with her.”
“I spent all week with her because you told me to!” He laughed with salt that spread itself over your wounded heart.
“Did I just? Because I really don’t remember saying ‘Hey, Theo, you know how I like you so much? I actually want you to go talk to another girl,’” you said sarcastically.
He held back a grin as best he could but the amusement glistened in his eyes and on his rosy, mole-spotted cheeks. His hand came up to your brow and massaged the frown out from between your eyebrows as you fluttered your eyelashes at him in the way you knew made him melt inside.
“I wanted to make friends for you,” he told you with that soft, romantic tone he used in bed.
“Don’t,” you ordered, “You’re Theodore Nott, you aren’t supposed to be friendly.”
For the first time in a week, he got a good look at you. He hadn’t realised how much he missed the sight of your h/l h/c hair and the way it framed your stunning face so perfectly that you appeared to have stepped right out of a portrait. He hadn’t realised how much he missed how your eyes, an elegant e/c and perpetually glossy as if always on the verge of tears, examined every centimetre of his face. He hadn’t realised how much he missed doing your tie up for you until he saw it tied like a bow around your neck.
“I’m friendly to you,” he said as his hands pulled at the end of the tie and it fell apart over your chest.
“And that’s all you need, I think,” you whispered pleasantly and pressed a loving kiss to his lips as he looped the tie around itself twice and pushed the end through the gap, tying it perfectly.
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