Hi I'm Shannon, a Slytherin from District 4. I am also in Dauntless and Poseidon kid. Buckle up, it’s gonna be a wild ride! Also: ynandfics…TikTok: impossiblyodair and newtscrank
summary: What's it like living with Jason Grace as a roommate?
warning: there's a NSFW! section, m! masturbation, f! oral receiving, slight dry humping, PinV
word count: 1.4k request
࣪𖤐.ᐟ SFW
Jason is so determined to be the perfect roommate. He read online lists like “10 Ways to Be a Respectful Roommate” and followed them religiously.
This man even labels his food, does his dishes within ten minutes, asks before inviting people over, a total model roommate.
At first, he’s a little stiff. Like “morning” nods and polite small talk that makes you believe he doesn't want more than a formal relation with you.
Jason’s polite to a fault. He asks if the TV volume is too high when seeing a movie or if you’re comfortable with the thermostat setting... Gods above, he asks if he can use the washing machine after 9PM! “You live here too, Grace” you tell him trying not to laugh.
The apartment feels too neat at first, like he’s trying to prove he’s not messy, not careless, the kind of person who leaves their socks everywhere. He actually is that kind of person, but you don’t find out until later!
The first time you catch him coming back from training, soaked in rain, and offer him a warm towel and a coffee. He starts hanging around the kitchen more.
And holy shit, it sneaks up on him so slowly. At first, it’s just “they’re easy to live with”. Then more of a “I like having them around” and then he got to: “why do I get weirdly happy when they’re in my hoodie?!”
He starts noticing dumb domestic things; he thinks it's stupid, really. How at dinner you do a little dance if the food is too good, or how you bite hard your lower lip when you’re concentrating on resolving work from college.
Jason tries to rationalize it as “roommate appreciation.” Piper and Leo absolutely call him out.
“Bro, you reorganized the fridge just so her snacks are on the easy-to-reach shelf. That’s love, not logistics.”
And oh, he did that because he gets flustered so easily. Is no joke!! You brush against him reaching for something and boom! He short-circuits like a malfunctioning robot.
He tries to stay out of your way, but he keeps accidentally overlapping with you! Wanting something from the fridge at the same time, both reaching for the same mug. He laughs awkwardly as he scratches the back of his neck and murmurs a little: “Sorry, my bad.”
The final straw for him comes one morning. You’re half-asleep, stumbling into the kitchen, wearing his hoodie after a movie night and yawning. He looks up from the counter, frozen. You grin at him, sleepy and soft, and say, “Morning, lighting bolt.” He forgets how to respond. Just stands there, staring at you like you’ve personally rewritten the definition of beauty. Jason has to clear his throat. “I— uh. Coffee’s ready.”
And that’s when he finally admits what it’s been building for weeks:
“Oh. This isn’t just appreciation. I’m down bad.”
After this, he spends weeks overthinking it. He even makes a list of pros and cons! The only “con” being: “what if it gets awkward if they say no?”
You catch him staring off at the couch one night, clearly lost in thought, and when you ask, he just blurts: “Would it be weird if I said I like you? Like, like you-like you?”
But this man is a flushed mess and immediately follows up with, “I mean, we live together, so I totally get if that’s— I can move out! Or— not that I’d want to—”. You stop his rambling before he can keep scheming against himself. Once you tell him about your own feelings, he looks stunned, like his brain needs a reboot. And you give him that time-out because he's too cute.
Being and living together is the coziest thing. He’s so naturally domestic! Makes breakfast for both of you if you had to study all night, does little chores without being asked, leaves notes on the fridge like “you’re amazing <3” or sometimes he comes back with your favorite food.
He still insists on being respectful, knocking before entering your room, even though by this point you have seen each other without clothes a few times.
He makes movie nights become “fall-asleep-on-each-other” nights. He’s always so warm and his chest is like a cloud to sleep on and oh gods, you must be in heaven.
It's a good time to say that when you’re stressed, he just hugs you until your heartbeat slows down, caressing your hair and filling you with all his love in more than just one way.
He is such a softie, always getting the opportunity to give you love and praise words!
“I can’t believe I get to come home to you.”
࣪𖤐.ᐟ NSFW
These thoughts start out as something totally puritanical, really. Just think that your hair smells wonderful, your face is terribly squishable, and that in general, when he touches your hands or skin is so soft and smooth.
He believes you're a goddess because he feels a need to worship you every time you walk around the house; are you even real??
Soon enough, Jason can't help but imagine what it would be like to run his hands through your lovely hair, to feel your body closer to his.
He also catches himself wondering what you look like under those clothes, he has seen you in shorts, sometimes your underwear peeking, he can be curious, right? At night, he lies awake, thinking about it too often for his liking.
Jason starts to feel ashamed. He tells himself he shouldn't want to fuck you, that it's wrong to have these thoughts about his roommate.
He tries to push the feelings down, but they keep resurfacing.
To cope, he starts masturbating more frequently, trying to release the tension and keep his desires to himself. He feels guilty for his actions, but can't seem to stop when you are always looking so good.
It becomes his dirty secret, only telling it to Leo.
“Leo, I'm in big trouble.”
“In big trouble or with a big trouble?”
This continues for a while until he miraculously confesses his feelings and you begin a relationship.
Jason is delicate and loving despite being the worst case of touch-starved you could ever see; he's way too in love with you.
He loves taking his time, being able to caress, run his fingers all over your covered body and finally pull your pants and panties towards him as if he were shouting "can I take them off?" with his eyes. You know your pupils have to be dilated by now.
He devours you as if you were the only thing that mattered. When I said this guy is touch-starved I mean it. He pushes your legs to his shoulders and seems to explore everything he can, pushing his head as if he wants to suffocate and die right there.
He thinks it's so hot of you wearing his hoodie, in bed, legs spread and mouth agape as you watch him eat you out. Bonus point if you're trying to not push your hips or keep the tiniest bit quiet, hand over your mouth.
The poor guy is so focused on how much he loves being buried there that he forgets how hard he is. He just pushes his hips against the sheets in search of relief without realizing it.
So when you finish and get to your high, your legs are left trembling and behind your teary eyes you can see his lips red and shining with the proof of your pleasure. Oh, and his erection.
“We’ve been at this for a time,” you say, still searching the air.
His head presses against your thigh, looking at you like a puppy. “Mhm, yeah.”
Your eyes drift to his hardness once again. “That must be hurting, want to keep going?”
The gentleman that he is, says you should rest and that he can take care of it later, but you insist, you want to do it!
He's considerate about you not getting too overstimulated, he leaves kisses on your thighs, slowly moves up, the hands caressing your chest under your hoodie, hardening your nipples against the touch.
Oh! But five minute later he's fucking you and you swear you thought this man wouldn't be so needy. Hands roaming all of you, gripping, soft words over your skin.
He fucks you in a way that screams "not just sex, but making love to you" slow and deep, panting as your mouths brush and you both reach your orgasms together.
- he loves taylor swift; when youre with him he makes you listen to his favs.
- whenever you two swim he somehow ALWAYS gets pieces seaweed stuck on his back, so you have to flick them off.
- he low(high)key sneaks into your cabin every night, because he swears “it’s too lonely” in his cabin. your siblings normally find him in your bed in the morning.
- most of your siblings “hate” him SOLELY because hes really annoying when hes chilling in your cabin, “[sibling name], can i take the last fruit punch you saved?”
- hes really cold.. like all the time?
- he LOVES sleeping together, he really likes the intimacy and closeness he feels when you share a bed.
- his mom loves you, she’s always asking about you whenever he iris messages her. (she thinks your made for him)
- if youre not a fan of water— well that fear is crushed a month into dating, he pulls you into the water with him forcing you to swim.
- he brings you a bag of blue cookies every summer!
- if you stay year round at camp, he tries to visit as much as possible since camp isn’t too far from where he lives🙏
- BUT if you don’t, AND you live farther away from him.. he begs his move to move closer to you.. (she thought about it once..)
- hes a sucker for you, literally would probably explode if you two broke up.
- he doesn’t like to bring you on quests, because he just doesn’t want anything to happen to you.. but sometimes he’ll let you tag along just for fun.
- he finds comfort in your arms rather quickly, from shouldering the weight of being “hero” on his back he loves being able to just fall into your arm and those weights just being lifted.
- tyson thinks your ethereal; genuinely he’ll praise percy just because he bagged you.
- underwater kisses— theyre crazy.
- percy really likes holding your hands, anytime and anywhere he’ll hold your hand.
- hes not big on PDA, a kiss here and there, a arm around the shoulder or holding your waist.
- your birthday.. oh my gosh this man will go ALL out, flowers, expensive jewelry— clothes, fancy dinners. literally anything you want he’ll get it.
- you two collect seashells on the shore, it’s a little thing you two do at beaches. you’ll be there for hours just looking for shells, collecting them or just showing each other.
Theo's grin is unmistakable as he saunters into your dormitory, Gladys immediately springing into action and throwing herself at the boy. It had been like this for months, you were used to it by now. Rolling your eyes, you watch as Theo scoops up his black, fluffy shadow with a laugh, cooing softly at her and stroking her velvety fur.
"Hello there principessa. Did you miss me? Hmm?"
Gladys purrs in response, her whole body trembling with adoration as she blinks up at him with her big, yellow eyes.
It felt like it had been forever since you had last gotten a moment alone with your boyfriend. There always seemed to be something, or someone that stopped you from being able to steal Theo away for even a minute. So you couldn't help the bit of resentment that bubbled up in your stomach as your cat easily stole the show.
"She's been screeching and clawing at the door for hours," you reply haughtily, crossing your arms and forcing yourself to remember that being jealous of your cat was utterly ridiculous.
Theo glances at you for the first time, that stupid, cocky smirk stretching across his lips as he drinks you in. You'd been waiting for him. Clearly.
"Well of course she was. Gladys adores me. How could she not?" he asks, wiggling his eyebrows at you suggestively.
You can't help but laugh. It really was endearing how much Theo loved the small feline, even if you sometimes wished he'd focus on a different type feline for once. Sitting back, you idly adjust the delicate lace adorning you as you watch Theo place a kiss on Glady's nose, still whispering sweet nothings to the creature who was very clearing eating up every one of his words.
You clear your throat.
Unfortunately for you, Theo still isn't paying you any mind as he continues to shower Gladys with affection. With an agitated huff, you wander over, strategically brushing up against your oblivious boyfriend in—what should be an unnecessary—attempt to pull his attention to you.
Your point is made as Theo's eyes drift over to you, his full, undivided attention finally yours. You know exactly what you're doing when you stare up at him with big, doe eyes, the tip of your tongue tasting cherry lip gloss as it glides effortlessly across your bottom lip. You needed him. The flash in his eyes is almost instant, but Gladys refuses to lose so easily.
With an utterly pathetic howl, the cat extends her paws out to Theodore as though attempting to physically pull him back to her. You spoil her far too much you decide in that moment. Theo at least has the decency to look back at you apologetically as he cradles Gladys in his arms.
"Whatever. When you're done playing with her, you can come play with me," you huff, disdain creeping into your voice as you turn away—you weren't going to beg.
Admitting defeat, you sulk back over to your bed, draping yourself across it with one last hope that Theodore would finally take the bait. At last, it seems to click in the boy's head and he sets Gladys down on the floor, much to her dismay, and follows you to the bed.
You want to be annoyed with the boy, you really do, but the sudden feral look in his eyes tells you your agitation probably wouldn't last long.
You can't help but nibble at your lower lip as you watch Theo approach slowly, almost as if he's stalking his prey. As one hand is placed on either side of you, boxing you in, as he slowly lowers himself until your noses are brushing softly against eachother.
"You couldn't possibly be jealous of a cat, now—could you mi amore?" he teases, his warm breath sending waves of heat rolling through you.
"Course not," you mumble, face flushing as you suddenly feel rather foolish.
Perhaps you had been acting a tad bit irrationally.
"How could I possibly stay away, when I have all this, waiting for me so patiently?"
You feel yourself clench as Theo cups your cunt with one hand, soaked lace rubbing against you torturously as you try not to give him the satisfaction of your moan. It was hard to imagine there was ever a time when Theo had been utterly tongue tied around you with the amount of confidence he exuded when he knew he was about to get his dick wet.
"Salazar, you're so perfect spread out like this for me," Theo purrs. "How could I possibly resist such a perfect little pussy?"
His words send yet another tidal wave through you, the wetness between your legs growing rapidly. You don't even get the chance to respond as Theo slips a finger into your wet folds, quickly followed by a second, then a third. You feel your back arch into him as he finally elicits a moan from your lips, only to be stifled by Theo's mouth on yours. His fingers slide in and out easily as Theo presses kisses onto your mouth, your jaw, your throat. Gods you were soaked. A fact made glaringly clear as Theo pulls back, greedily licking the juice off his fingers as his eyes bore into yours.
"Don't stop. Please Theo."
It comes out a whine as you desperately try to press yourself against the boy, hips rising frantically off the bed. Theo can only groan in response as you claw ferociously at his pants, making quick work of them and all but banishing them to the floor.
"I love it when you beg," Theo growls into your ear as you whimper pitifully, feeling his hardened cock now tantalizingly close to your entrance.
Instead of fucking you senseless like you so desperately wanted—no, needed—however, Theo pulls back once more, seemingly admiring the scene before him. Your hair spread out in a halo around your head, your chest rising and falling as you gasp for breath, and that delicious lace just asking to be torn off. Without dropping his gaze, you watch as Theo's head lowers until his teeth are teasing the edges of your panties, slowly pulling them lower and lower. You feel your hands clutching at the sheets, your whole body trembling now. You can't remember ever being so aroused in your life.
"Please, Theo. Need you so bad, please," you choke out.
The growl that Theo lets out is feral.
"Oh, I'm going to give you my cock now, mi amore, and you're going to take it like a good girl, capisce?"
It's all you can do to nod frantically as Theo presses a satisfied kiss to your lips, gripping his cock and pressing it gently against your wet folds, still teasing. Just as you're sure you're about to go insane, Theo shoves his cock in all at once and when you cry out, he takes it as an invitation to explore your mouth with his tongue.
You let out a moan as your arms wrap around him, nails digging into his back as his cock pushes deeper, every ridge, every vein sending waves of pleasure through you.
"Feels so good Theo," you breathe out, as an ever familiar pressure begins to grow in the pit of your stomach.
Surely this is what heaven must feel like you think to yourself as Theo continues his absolutely brutal pace, stretching you to your limits. Your lips move against his as if they have a mind of their own as you allow your mind to lose itself in pure, unadulterated bliss. You never wanted the feeling of Theo’s warm breath panting unintelligible Italian curses in your ear to stop. You were so close.
"Cum for me amore. Wanna feel you cum on my cock," Theo's request comes out like an order and you almost come undone right then and there, just wanting to please him.
He's close though, you can tell as his thrusts begin lose their rhythm, becoming wild as he chases his own release. Your hands slowly find their way up to Theo's hair, your legs wrapping around his waist. His own hand makes its way down, thumb brushing ever so slightly against your clit and you know it's over. Your mind simply melts as pleasure washes over you, your cunt clamping down on Theo's cock, gripping it for all you're worth. You think you hear yourself cry out Theo’s name, but it’s all a blur.
And Theo isn't done—his cock, now covered from base to tip in your juices, is still slamming into you. Determined. Your mind reels and the room spins and then—you feel his cock twitch. The sound of Theo’s low moan is music to your ears as his huge load fills you up and Theo presses himself ever closer, forcing his cock deeper as he empties himself into you.
“You’re so fucking perfect,” Theo mumbles into the side of your neck, collapsing on top of you as you squeeze your legs tighter around him, refusing to let him go. “Such a good fucking girl,” he praises, nipping gently at you.
"Mmm. I love you," you sigh wistfully as he finally pulls out, cum dripping out of you.
Theo presses a soft kiss to the tip of your nose, quickly scourgifying the sheets beneath you but leaving the sticky white liquid smeared between your legs. A gentle reminder of who you belonged to.
"And ti amo, mia dolce," Theo replies sweetly, lying down next to you and tugging you towards him.
It's perfect then, the two of you just cuddling there, simply enjoying each other's company in silent post-climax bliss. Or at least it is until a petulant yowl is heard on the ground beside you. You barely have time to roll over before Gladys springs up onto the bed landing squarely on your stomach. You watch as she tilts her small head at you disdainfully as if asking "Are the two of you quite finished?" before she wedges herself pointedly between you and Theo, daintily tucking her paws beneath her.
Her utter audacity shocks you.
Beside you, Theo just chuckles already scratching underneath the cat's chin as she purrs contentedly.
"Unbelievable," you scoff, shaking your head.
"Aw, have no fears mi amore. You know Gladys is my second favorite pussy," Theo simpers, giving your thigh a tight squeeze with his other hand.
"You're disgusting."
"And you love me. You said so earlier. You can't take it back now," Theo replies cockily.
"I can. I was manipulated by a massive dick," you retort.
Theo's eyes visibly darken and suddenly Gladys is back on the floor as Theo's fingers dig into your hips, pulling you close so that your ass is pressed firmly against his cock which is once again very hard.
"Oh? I suppose someone needs a reminder of who owns this pussy then," Theo growls before lining himself up and thrusting into you once more.
this request has been two years in the making (I don't want to talk about it) aaand I was going to try and post it on the two year anniversary of the original fic, but obviously that didn't happen, so let's just all pretend that I have it together okay?
Your daughter folds into you as if her body knows you are the only thing left standing between her and the world. Her fingers knot painfully into your shirt, clutching as though if she lets go, even for a second, you might disappear too. Her sobs are small and broken, pressed into your chest, damp and trembling.“Why hasn’t he woken up?” The question is soft. Confused. Trusting. And it splits you open. You stare at her face—at the shape of her mouth that mirrors his, at the eyes that will never stop looking for him—and something inside you caves. You swallow hard, because if you don’t speak, she’ll keep hoping. And if you do speak, everything ends.
“He’s not going to, sweetheart,” you say. Your voice barely survives the sentence. Each word trembles, fragile, as though it might shatter before it reaches her ears. Saying it aloud feels like betrayal. Like choosing a world where he is truly gone. The name carved into the stone isn’t his. It can’t be. That was the name he used when you ran away here. Theo lived. Theo laughed. Theo held your hand in the mornings and kissed your daughter’s hair and promised—promised—you were safe now. Your Theo didn’t die. He couldn’t have. He promised you a new beginning. You escaped the war. You crossed an ocean. You built something gentle with your bare hands. This was supposed to be the life that lasted.
You need him.
God, you need him.
You need him to take her when she cries at night, to murmur soft reassurances you don’t have the strength to say. You need him to stand between her and this pain, the way he always did. Her sobs fade into a dull ringing in your ears as your eyes lock onto the grave before you. The earth looks wrong—too new, too real. Then her voice shatters the silence. “I miss Daddy!” Your chest tightens painfully. You pull her closer, pressing your face into her hair, breathing her in like it might keep you standing. Tears slip free, hot and unstoppable. “I know, baby,” you whisper, broken. “I miss him too.”
She pushes against you, frantic. “Down! Down!” You hesitate, because once you let her go, you don’t know if you’ll survive watching what comes next. But you lower her anyway, your hands shaking as her feet touch the ground. “Daddy!” she cries, running toward the headstone. She throws herself against it, small arms wrapping around cold stone that gives her nothing back. Her fingers scrape over the engraved letters, desperate, searching. “Baby…” Your voice cracks. You take a step forward, tears spilling freely now. “Wake Daddy up!” she demands, her voice raw. The words steal the air from your lungs. You want to scream. You want to lie. You want to tear the ground apart with your hands and give her back the world she deserves. “I wish I could,” you whisper, so quietly it feels like a prayer meant for no one.
She drops to her knees, digging at the dirt with her bare hands, her sobs shaking her tiny body. “Daddy,” she begs, over and over, her tears soaking into the soil like apologies you’ll never be able to make. You collapse beside her, grabbing her hands. “Sofia—” your breath stutters, your vision blurring. “Please, stop.” “Daddy’s not waking up,” you say again, the words tasting like ash. “No!” she screams, shaking her head violently. “He’s just tired! He’s waking up!”
“I’m sorry,” you sob. The sound tears itself out of you. She fights you then—small fists hitting your chest, your face, pulling at your hair as if pain might fix this. You gather her into your arms, holding her even as your own body trembles, even as something inside you finally gives way. “I’m sorry,” you repeat, again and again, because it’s the only thing left in you. You carry her away as she reaches back, her hands clawing at the air, her cries ripping through the quiet. “Daddy! Wake up!”
And with every step, you leave a piece of yourself behind—because part of you is buried there too, under a name that isn’t his, in a future that will never come.
That night, that was the last time we were ever together like that. What if I hadn't fucked it up four years ago? What if I hadn't pushed her away like I always do? How many times would we have eaten dinner together just like this?
"He was finally crying. I watched him silently. I felt like I was intruding on a private moment, one he'd never let me see if he weren't grieving. The old Conrad liked to be in control. The old pull, the tide drawing me back in. I kept getting caught in this current--first love, I mean. First love kept making me come back to this, to him. He still took my breath away, just being near him. I had been lying to myself the night before, thinking I was free, thinking I had let him go. It didn't matter what he said or did, I'd never let him go. I wondered if it was possible to take someone's pain away with a kiss. Because that was what I wanted to do, take all of his sadness and pour it out of him, comfort him, make the boy I knew come back. I reached out and touched the back of his neck. He jerked forward, the slightest motion, but I didn't take my hand away. I let it rest there, stroking the back of his hair, and then I cupped the back of his head, moved it toward me, and kissed him. Tentatively at first, and then he started kissing me back, and we were kissing each other. His lips were warm and needy. He needed me. My mind went pure, blinding white, and the only thought I had was, I'm kissing Conrad Fisher, and he's kissing me back. Susannah was dying, and I was kissing Conrad."
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