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singmyaubade · 1 year

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No Longer Yours

James Potter x Female!Reader

IB: In The Cold November Rain by @sweetsweetjellybean (Make sure to check it out, it’s incredible and one of the best I’ve ever read !)

A/N: First, I wanna say thank you to @sweetsweetjellybean for letting me be inspired by her story even though I am stupid, lol, but seriously (not kissing ass), check her series out; it is fantastic. Thank you to everyone for the kind comments, reblogs, and likes. I'm overwhelmed with love, and I'm so thankful that people actually want to read more of what I write but anyways, enjoy!

Summary: James had disregarded you for multiple years, but when you have an epiphany in your final year, how does it feel to taste his own medicine?

Warning: It may contain swearing and soon-to-be smut.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

"Are you sure you don't want me to walk you all the way?" Your mother asked, squeezing your hand.

"I'll be fine," You caressed her hand, "I'm still your baby, though."

She laughed lightly, "Make sure to write always," She held your face with her hands, "Have fun; it's your last year."

You touched her hand on your cheek, "I will."

You hugged her one last time, taking in her scent. Every time you said bye to her, it was as sad as the first, without you crying and begging to stay.

"Okay," She smiled, taking her hands off your face, "Are you still sure you don't wanna wait for James here? I mean, you've done it all these years."

Little did she know, you had been ignoring James's letters, all 128 of them. He had been persistent, asking you what was wrong and begging for a reply to know you were safe.

You even received a letter from his mother, Euphemia Potter, asking how you were and everything was in Paris. You would never have it in your heart to ignore Ms. Potter, so you replied dutifully and happily.

And then you got a letter from him saying,

Dear Y/n,

Are you really going to reply to my mother and not me?

Sincerely,

Your BEST FRIEND, James Potter.

You didn't reply, scoffing at the bolded best friend. The last letter you received was last week, him telling you he couldn't wait to see you and wanted to talk as soon as he got to you.

Bullshit.

"Yeah," You gulped, "I'm just gonna meet him inside."

"Well, I'm sure he misses you," She started fixing your coat, "I mean, you have been in Paris all of this time, and I just think it would be good for you to-"

You cut her off, pecking her cheek, "Love you!" You yelled, going towards the train.

She shook her head, "Be safe!"

You smiled at her, going through the wall to the train. The feeling still felt the same, nostalgic. This was the last time boarding the train, and it felt sad.

You remembered the first time you ever boarded it. James was practically high on excitement on his first day at Hogwarts. You were scared out of your bloody mind, not wanting to leave your mum and dad.

When you had finally stopped crying and holding onto your mother's leg, James was the one to hold your hand and tell you that he would take care of you.

Maybe that was the first time you had realized James was more than a friend to you, or perhaps you were a naive child.

But either way, he was the one that you needed protecting from. You realized he hadn't been your friend since the fourth year.

But this year wasn't about James; it was about you having the best last year of Hogwarts that you could have ever had.

You boarded the train, moving through the compartments to where Marlene, Mary, Dorcas, and Lily usually were.

Compartment 222.

It was pretty lucky; it is where you guys first met.

You opened the compartment, "Did you guys miss me?"

They excitedly cheered, "Now tell me, Y/n, how many French boys did you end up shagging in France?" Marlene asked.

"I would say about thirty, oui oui." You joked in a French accent as they all started laughing.

You sat down next to Dorcas, giving her a side hug. You saw Lily and Mary whisper something to each other, to which Mary said, "Just say it!"

You could see Dorcas in the corner of your eye, shaking her head no aggressively. Apparently, Marlene was the only one not in the plan, continuing to look at her newsletter.

Your eyebrow raised, "Am I missing something?"

"It's really nothing," Lily nervously said.

"Okay, so what is it?" You laughed.

"Well," Lily fiddled with her fingers, "You know how you specifically requested that none of us tell James that you were replying to our letters and not purposely ignoring him."

You said, "Uhuh." Already knowing where this going.

"Well, I accidentally let it slip out over the letter you had spoken to Marlene and me." She admitted.

Your mouth agape, "Lily."

"I know, I know," She groaned, "It was a total accident."

"How do you accidentally slip something out over letter?" Marlene snorted, earning a glare from Lily, but she still looked at her newsletter.

"What did he say after?" You asked, kneading your forehead.

"Why is she ignoring me?" Lily answered, "I just said it was none of my business, nor was I involved."

The group stayed in silence, waiting for you to reply.

You sighed, thinking about how much James would bother you more now that he knew you ignored him.

"Are you mad at me?" Lily asked quietly.

"No, of course not," You smiled, looking at her, "I just don't want to talk to him and explain everything,"

"Who says you have to?" Mary asked.

You looked at her confused, "I just can't ignore him." You said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"And why not?" Marlene asked, now looking at you.

You opened your mouth to reply, but nothing came out. You thought about it harder, and why wouldn't you be able to ignore James? Maybe it was hard because you have never done it before.

"So I just don't reply when he tries to talk to me?" You asked.

"Well, I don't support this, but," Lily started, "You could always just walk away when he says something to you."

"Wouldn't that be mean?" You asked.

"What did I tell you in person and in the letter?" Dorcas asked as you looked at her.

"Give him hell."

"So do it." She said.

They were right; you couldn't keep explaining to James what he did wrong; you just had to be done with him. You missed your friendship, but it took a turn years ago; you never said anything.

And you had to start not caring about him.

"So, how was your guy's summer?" You changed the subject, grinning as Marlene went on about how she perfected her Quidditch skills and would finally be the best chaser at Hogwarts.

Then Lily talked about her poetry that she started over the summer and how her sister had ripped a few of them, but she fixed them with a single swish of her wand and appreciated magic more.

Mary talked about how many soap operas she had seen and how she might even go into it after she graduates from Hogwarts.

Lastly, Dorcas talked about how this year was her year to be a seeker and how she got a whole book collection from her sister in New Zealand.

You began talking about how you tasted so many new foods and learned a bit of French, showing off your knowledge of the profound language.

You were interrupted by someone opening the compartment doors, "Hello," Remus greeted as you stood up to hug him immediately.

He caught you as you almost made him fall over by the movement, "Remmy, how much I have missed you," You said, kissing him on the cheek.

"And Y/n, how was France?" He asked, smiling.

"Quite a bore; every man was all over me; I was getting exhausted," You exhaled, sitting back in your seat.

"Well, if you ever want to get with a real man, I'm here, Y/n," Sirius said, nudging next to you as you looked disgusted.

"Did you have to bring him?" Dorcas asked Remus, rolling her eyes.

"He insisted," Remus shrugged.

"There needs to be some form of restraining order against him by all of us," Mary sighed.

"I thought his STDs were enough of a restraining order for us to keep away from him," Marlene teased.

Sirius interrupted before another insult could be made, "Ladies, this Sirius Black hate train is honestly starting to hurt," He pretended to be hurt.

"Aww, poor baby," You said in a baby voice, pinching his cheek as he swooshed your hand away.

"Now, Y/n, why are you ignoring poor Prongs?" Sirius asked as you wanted to throw him out of the train through the window.

"I thought he told you to dance around the question," Remus snorted.

Sirius disregarded, "What did my poor, stupid boy do this time?"

"I'm afraid it's none of your business, Black." You simply said.

"It is my business when my friend is sulking and bringing down my mood," He explained, "So why are you upset with him?" He asked.

Marlene abruptly laughed, "I'm sorry, but he really thought you would be the one Y/n would say something to,"

Sirius fake-laughed, "Oh McKinnon, I'll be laughing like that when you fall off of your arse on the field,"

Marlene mocked his facial expression as he did the same thing to her.

"May I please just arrive in peace without one word of James Potter? I'm begging." You reasoned.

"Well, at least I can tell him I tried and that Moony was no help." He glared at Remus.

"I told you I wasn't going to talk to her for him; it was all up to you," Remus said as Sirius went outside, and Remus waved everyone goodbye before closing the doors.

You could already tell it was going to be a long year.

After finally sorting the first year, everyone was allowed to dine. One thing you always missed about Hogwarts was the fantastic food; it was always incredible.

You were sitting in between Remus and Dorcas when Remus abruptly got up.

"Where are you going?" You asked, mid-laugh from a joke Marlene had made about Dumbledore and McGonagall in their secret chamber.

"Don't kill me," Remus stated before leaving. You looked confused, and James took the spot in front of you. You rolled your eyes, turning back to your meal.

"Please talk to me, Y/n," James pleaded.

You continued to stay silent, not even giving him a look as you looked at Marlene. She shook her head, and you continued to eat.

"I just wanna know what I did," James begged.

When you still didn't respond, he grabbed ahold of your wrist in an attempt for you to look at him.

"Don't fucking touch me." You spat before getting up and leaving the dining hall, telling your friends you were just gonna meet them in the dorm.

You tried rushing to the common room, but James was behind you.

"Y/n!" He yelled, speed-walking after you.

You continued to ignore him, going to the common room until you were stuck with the singing lady at the door who would not give it a rest.

"You have to talk to me," James demanded while the lady continued to screech.

"I don't have to do a thing you say," You scoffed, "In fact, I would prefer if you screwed off and stopped talking to me."

You went to one of the corridors, trying to escape him, but he followed you.

"Can't you just explain to me what I could've done for you to treat me like this?" He said roughly.

You turned to him, "There is not a single, simple explanation of what you could've done; there is a book of things," You snapped, "And treat you like this? Ever since I fucking stepped foot into your life, you have continued to treat me like shit." You stepped closer, "I stuck with you despite Lily, despite what other people said, and despite what you have shown me."

He continued to stay silent, "And now that I finally stick up for myself, I've done you horribly? Bullshit." You spat, "You have continued to show me exactly why I will never ever love you again, and yeah, for a matter of fact, I did love you, but you don't deserve me and never will."

Your words shocked him, not being able to mutter a word.

"Now you have nothing to say?" You manically laughed, "The smooth-talking and fantastic golden boy that shocked the century has nothing to say? What a pathetic-"

He kissed you suddenly precipitously, his tongue entering your mouth, entangling with yours.

For a second, you were drunk on his mouth, engaging with his kiss with as much passion as he gave you. His hand pulls on your hair lightly, making you moan.

His lips went from your mouth to your neck, sucking hard, red marks into your skin, knowing it would bruise.

Then you remembered everything. You remembered James's bitter words, his voice mocking you, and the boys laughing in the locker room.

You pushed his hard chest off you, breathing hard from the whole interaction. He looked at you, breathing as hard as you; realizing what he had done, he tried to touch your hand, but you pushed him again.

Tears brimmed in your eyes, "You're such an asshole," You cried, going to the Gryffindor common room.

You rushed up the stairs, immediately going into your bed. You couldn't believe what had just happened.

A part of you wanted to be grateful, grateful that you pushed him off, and realized that he only wanted to be with you when he felt convenient.

Another part of you wanted to continue kissing him, laughing with him, hugging him. You knew it wouldn't be easy, but you had never figured it would be painful.

What if you had loved James for so long that you didn't know anything but to love him?

It was stupid and pathetic.

You were tired of being stupid and pathetic, you just wanted to move on from James Potter and get away from him, and if that wasn't possible, you had to make him regret being friends with you in the first place.

So you did.

You got up fresh and early in the morning when all of your roommates were sleeping, taking a shower immediately.

You looked in the mirror, your mascara smudged and dark red and purple hickies wearing your skin. You placed a shit-load of powder and concealer to cover up the parts you could.

You tried several spells to cover it up as best as possible, changing into your uniform.

You slipped into the most showing tights you could and wore your skirt from the fifth year that you so obviously outgrew, showing almost your ass cheeks.

You would be thankful not to get a write-up from McGonagall.

You unbuttoned two buttons off the top of your shirt, showing a tiny bit of your bra. It wasn't the most rebellious or seductive, but it could work.

The first challenge of that day was Potions; all of your friends were there, including all of the Marauders. But, thanks to Merlin was also Jacob Carrow's class, the Slytherin Captain that James hated with a burning passion.

They both could not be in the same room without spitting a hateful insult at the other. James once had a dream that you and Jacob had gone out, and he refused to talk to you for an entire day until you convinced him you would never do that.

You never considered yourself a liar.

The only problem was that Jacob was a dickhead, but so was James. You were surprised they didn't get along, maybe in another life.

You went inside Potions with your friend group, and you spotted Jacob Carrow in the back with an empty seat next to him as you told your friends you were gonna sit in the back.

You were thankful none of his friends were around him; it would be ten times more unbearable.

You sat next to him with a wide grin painted on your face, trying not to show your pain.

"Sitting next to me, Y/n?" He smirked, "I thought you were Potter's little puppy."

You tried to ignore your annoyance, "Pets tend to lean away from their owner at points; I guess that's my case." You shrugged.

"I am no Potter; I don't like having little girls follow me and do my shit for me." You could tell he was insulting you, but you stood tall.

"Good thing girls don't like to be in your presence." You snickered.

He smiled, "Love a kitty with claws," He leaned into his chair, "What do you want?"

"Do I have to want something?" You asked, popping your chest out to show your tits as he looked down at your face.

"You finally trying to make your boy toy jealous?" He asked.

You dropped the facade, "Are you gonna help me or not?"

"Control the temper, baby; I just wanna know what's in it for me." His body faced you.

"Isn't James being angry enough?" You asked.

"Nah, I can piss off Potter by just existing." He replied.

"What do you want?" You asked, half-annoyed.

"Meadows on a date with me."

You laughed, "Dorcas would never go on a date with you."

"Then no deal." He said with a fake smile.

"Ugh, fine, I'll talk to her if you just make James's life hell for a few minutes." You said.

"Okay, deal." He smiled, "Do you want me to touch you or,"

"Sure, but don't overdo it." You warned.

"I love when you flatter yourself." He said as James walked in, laughing with the Marauders.

Jacob immediately placed a hand on your thigh, slightly higher than preferred, but you continued smiling.

You started fake-laughing at Jacob's joke, which immediately caught James's attention. You looked behind you, and James's head looked like it would explode.

You looked back at Carrow, touching his shoulder and admiring how much muscle he had.

"What else do you want me to do?" He said through his teeth.

"I'll scoot closer to you, and you can put your hand on my waist." You suggested as he nodded.

You faced the front as Jacob touched your waist, tickling you with his fingers as you laughed.

"Mind keeping it down?" James scowled, "Not everyone wants to fucking hear that shit."

"How about you piss off, Potter?" Jacob mocked as he gripped your waist tighter, which pissed off James even more.

Before James could say another word, Slughorn started the class.

Throughout the class, Jacob would squeeze your thigh or tickle you, almost rising to touch your tits. Whenever he did those actions, you would giggle, earning daggers from James.

Once Slughorn instructed everyone to look inside their microscopes at the different ingredients used in Veritaserum, you took the opportunity to sit on Jacob's lap, looking in the microscope as he bounced you with his knee, causing you to laugh.

This really pissed James off, him storming up to you both. He grabbed your arm, practically flying you off of Jacob.

"Mr. Potter!" Slughorn yelled as the class watched the entire thing.

"Don't you dare fucking touch her," James said brusquely.

Jacob scoffed, "What will you do about it, Potter?" He stood, going closer to James.

You rolled your eyes due to the amount of testosterone in this conversation.

James got closer as you grabbed his hand, pushing him back, "Stop it." You said to him as he looked at you.

He grabbed your wrist, dragging you out of the classroom to an abandoned bathroom.

"James, let go of me!" You yelled as he pushed you inside the bathroom.

He was fuming, and you could tell which scared you. You hadn't seen him this angry since he lost a Quidditch match against the very man's lap you were on.

"You dragged me in here, so is there something you have to say?" You looked at him angrily, hands on your hips.

"Us not being friends anymore doesn't allow you to be a slut," He ridiculed.

You slapped him, "Don't you fucking dare call me a slut; I can do whatever the fuck I want,"

He wiped his mouth with a smile, "You think he gives a shit about you? He would fuck you and then dump you." He said as he moved closer, and you backed up.

"You don't know a thing," You replied nervously.

"He wouldn't even clean you up after," He continued, "He would let you rot there like a slut," Another step closer, which you took backward. You didn't understand if he purposely tried to intimidate or lecture you.

He didn't stop.

"He would tell all of his friends after," Another step, "He wouldn't dare spare you a minute after," Another step, "You would mean nothing," You were backed into the wall now, "But it's okay because you can do whatever the fuck you want."

"James." You kept eye contact with him, his eyes beaming into yours.

His mouth lowered to your ear, "But I think you want me to give a shit; you wanna see me mad." His hand snaked to your waist, "I guess you win." His body left yours, storming out of the bathroom.

Did you really win?

A/N: Y/n: 2, James 0??? There is also an alternate chapter to this because I couldn't stop writing two plots LOL.

taglist: @feast0nmeee @queerqueenlynn @diasnohibng @somebodys-enola @kiwichixta @queerpanickingrn @strnqer @virgogaia @ddddawson @lxriearxella @losa12308 @soosheee @lokifriggason1 @kenqki @volturissideslut @lmfaograyc @melllinaa @iluvfetuszarry @lovelywebber @violetbossler @moonys0chocolate @ourloveisforthelovely @stormymind14 @abq654 @cr1stinx @4-everm-0-re @icantwaittoliveandlearn @aceofheartzzz @ashkuuuu @i-dont-know-me-either @slayingqueenchal @hero-ically @mikeikax @extrainsanity @roryctrlshift @helloitsmeeeeeee @@dittos-blog-dylanobrien @drstargirl @17luvr @eviesmith1810 @fluffycookies22 @valencia-rou @watersquirtpewpewboomm @kentucky-criedfricken @lokisbitch13 @evangelinejxy @youroutdoorbf @ok-boke @madison-rebel @sunshineangel-reads @feast0nmeee @rey26

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dreamse · 2 years

Text

@murderotics

𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐟𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐢𝐞,

i lost you last time. letters don’t make up for that, how i felt doesn’t make up for that. i drove you away by having a similar reaction to the one i had last night, but there’s no escaping you.

i don’t want to.

what i told you at kennedy’s failed wedding, it stands still. fuck, i don’t know what makes it so difficult to form these words when i’m standing in front of you. it shouldn’t, right? i tried.. i try, still. i guess years of not really being together isn’t necessarily practice of being together.

business papers are easier. though i’m not drunk while writing this. i want to say it’s a step up. i’m pretty sure you’ve heard the stories by now, or at least some of them. there are employees who know they will be fired if they do, and then there are the ones who don’t care. enough business.

i can’t imagine wanting you out before breakfast now. you’ve always been beautiful, but the thought of someone sticking around made my chest tighten. getting attached, putting it on the line. the joke’s on me, isn’t it? doing just that, except beneath the surface. following you to italy should’ve been enough of a sign.

perhaps what i’m trying to say is that change takes me some time to get used to. i’m sorry i didn’t have the reaction you’d hoped for.

is it still fair to ask for a little patience, if it comes with a fruit plate for breakfast? it’s in the fridge for when you wake up.

i love you.

𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬, 𝐜.

#apparently he's turned into a letter-writing-man for frances :/#chaz and francesca.#murderotics #not that he ever makes sense but ig thats why he turned to trying to write to begin with #ive never described him as smart <3 #anyway heres this bc i missed them

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caesium-55 · 2 months

Text

—seven days. [ vi.ii ]

pairing: max verstappen x manager! reader.

summary: as the third time world champion, max verstappen's manager, you function on the belief that whatever max verstappen wanted, max verstappen shall get. but this time, after four years of working as his manager, you can't give him what he wants anymore and that was to stay.

author's note: guess who's not listening in her calculus lecture rn. also, wifi is acting funny rn.

tags: @whatamidoingwithmylife-ramdom @eugene-emt-roe @bellezaycafe @barnestatic @theseerbetweenus @wcnorris @notyouraveragemochii @lpab @vildetry06 @a-beaverhausen @formula1mount @loloekie @alucardsdaddyissues @juky-ps @cassianswh0reeee @devotedlycrookeddonut @amberpanda99 @supermaxv1 @evie-119 @spideylovin @harianaswhore @formulaal

masterlist.

2020

There have been a lot of new protocols to follow. Social distancing. Wearing face masks. Races being rescheduled. Australia, China, Netherlands, Monaco, Azerbaijan, Canada, and France are canceled. Vietnam is postponed. The first race of the season takes place in the Red Bull Ring in Austria and Max gets a fucking DNF.

After exchanging Instagram accounts in December, Max has spent a normal amount of time stalking your feed. That's what you do when you’re trapped inside your apartment alone because of a global health crisis, you explore the online world.

It seems like you’ve been operating the account since your university days and a lot of your posts show a side of you that’s different from the manager he knows. He learns that you play billiards competitively. You've even reached an Australian tournament. He learns that you watch NASCAR and motocross and drift racing. He learns that you know how to drive a firetruck. He learns that you like partying in LA and you took up volunteer work in the LA fire brigade around your sophomore year. He learns that you’re particularly fond of taking pictures of the skies at different times of the day and the things you’re studying. He notices that you only post group selfies or low angle blurry selfies of you. You don't take pretty pictures of just you.

The oldest post is a photo of you offering a middle finger while smiling and filling up the gas tank of a truck. You're also wearing a red sweatshirt with the letters USC written at the front and skinny ripped jeans. If you swipe right, the next photo shows a picture of you and your group of friends writing on papers on the hood of the truck. Max sees numbers and scratches and crossed out sketches. Max notices a canned beer on your other hand while you press down on your scientific calculator buttons and shakes his head. You do not change.

The latest post is a photo dump of the Abu Dhabi Grand Prix in 2019. A picture of the aerial show, grainy zoomed in pictures of the garage, selfies with the mechanics, a bathroom mirror selfie, and a blurry picture of a beer in your hand from the after party. He presses like in every post, latest to the oldest.

you: fucking stalker

max: fuck you

max: *sent a photo*

max: nice teeth by the way

you: i hate you

you: *sent a photo*

you: ya think im the only one who looks ugly with braces?

Since then, Max’s relationship with you has considerably improved. The two of you spend a lot of nights dm-ing each other on Instagram and sending each other reels.

max: SOS

you: ??

max: I THINK THE STOVE IS ON FIRE

you: the stove is supposed to have fire

max: ITS ON FIRE

You and Max sit on the floor, back against the kitchen counter, chest heaving in quick breaths, shoulders bumping against each other. You hold the fire extinguisher close to your chest and your eyes are closed and your lips are parted a little. Max observes your side profile.

You're not a categorically attractive woman. But with the way the sun rays enter Max’s kitchen window and hit your face at all the right angles, you look like someone worth missing a sunset over. Max allows himself to stare and mentally tries to convince himself that this is a very normal amount of staring at one’s manager slash friend.

He’s crossing the line that divides friendship and something unnamed.

“Do you need me to call maintenance so we can get your stove replaced?”

Max nods.

“Yes please.”

You post a new picture on Instagram after a long period of dryness. Max gets a notification. He checks it out.

The caption reads: meet my full time dog and part time boyfriend

The picture is blurry and grainy but Max can make out your face perfectly. There’s a billiard table. Max sees a person in the background. A man. He's wearing a Williams shirt.

Is that a racer? Max immediately thinks of Nicholas Latifi. You and him are around the same age. But the blurry man in the picture doesn't look like Nicholas. The hair color and the build is different. George, maybe? He’s a year younger than Max. Do you prefer your men younger? Scratch that. That’s impossible. Max knows he has a girlfriend named Carmel or Carmen or something.

max: you have a boyfriend

you: youre fast

max: when did this happen?

you: uh

you: earlier?

Max resists the urge to hurl his phone across the room.

max: details [name]

max: i need details

you: nuh uh kid you havent unlocked that level of friendship yet

you: that's friendship level 8 ur still on level 6

max: i will hunt you down and force you to tell me

max: and don't call me kid i'm one year younger than you

you: id like to see you try

max: i think u forgot im the one who gave you the apartment where u live rn

You introduce Leo to Max a month later.

Leo is a British brunette guy with a face that one would consider mid in Europe but a ten in the US. He is one of the Williams mechanics. You mention that he used to do karting as a kid and even went up to F3 but he’s decided to discontinue his racing career because he thinks engineering and the technical aspects of a formula car is far more interesting than racing.

He’s basically the complete opposite of Max.

He’s a good guy, Max can tell. He’s well-mannered, he’s calm, he knows how to treat you right. Above all else, he makes you the happiest. You have the most genuine and beautiful smile on your face when he comes into your view.

He also handles your relationship very maturely. He doesn't demand. He understands that you work for different racing teams with different jobs and that means different priorities.

The weekly IG posts are also too cute. It looks like it came out of a Pinterest board.

Max will never tell you that he spends a good hour every time you post something with Leo in it like an obsessive freak. He tries to make sense of the feeling in his chest. Something green. Something ugly. Something he can't name.

Max should be happy that you found a guy as great as Leo. But he cannot, for the life of him, be fully happy for you. He doesn't know why.

“PR told me that you received a dinner invite from Kelly Piquet,” you state, sitting down on the empty chair across from him and putting your packed lunch on the table. You carefully lay the folded clothes on the other chair. Max deduces they will be the ones he’ll be wearing for the interview scheduled in about two hours. You already sent him the list of questions in his email but he hasn't opened them yet.

“Yeah,” Max says after swallowing. “She’s been sending invites since two months ago.”

“And you left her on seen?”

Max scoffs, “I didn't leave her on seen. I just…well, I saw them late and declined them politely.”

He knows Kelly Piquet. He’s aware of the history she shared with former Red Bull Racing now Toro Rosso driver, Daniil Kvyat. Max also knows she’s the daughter of Nelson Piquet, retired Formula One champion. He thinks it's rude to take the guy’s ex-girlfriend after he’s taken his seat in Red Bull.

“She’s interested in you,” you claim, opening the tupperware and quickly saying grace before digging in.

Max is not good with dealing with women. Twenty-three years old and he’s still girlfriend-less. But he knows how to recognize people who are interested in him. A significant number of women have tried their chances with him since he began racing professionally and he may have used you as some sort of getaway driver to get him out of all the awkward situations where he has to deal with women who are interested in him.

You have a very scary resting bitch face if you try hard enough. Its efficiency in scaring off people is proven to be, well, efficient.

“Yeah, I suppose.”

“Are you interested in her?” you question.

Max thinks about it. Really thinks about it.

“Do you think it’ll be good if I get a girlfriend?” he throws you a question instead of an answer.

“You're twenty-three, man. It's about time you start doin’ somethin’ about your empty dating history.”

Max nose scrunches but doesn't say anything because it's the truth. His dating history is hilariously empty.

“What’s your opinion of Kelly?”

“Uh, cool pussy, I guess. Don't really care.”

Max rolls his eyes, “You’re so crude.”

You shrug uncaringly.

“But I don't mind who you wanna date, man. I mean, it's your life. Date who you wanna date. Live the life you wanna live. All the jazz and shedazzle.”

Max accepts the dinner invite.

The 2020 season ends with Hamilton standing at the top, officially becoming a seven-time world champion. Bottas is behind him. Verstappen, like 2019, still stands in third place. Max vows 2020 will be the last year Hamilton becomes a world champion. The team doesn't hold a big afterparty like it usually does and Max flies home to Monaco immediately.

It's been months since he's started seeing Kelly and the woman is pleasant company. Her daughter, Penelope, is the most adorable human being that ever stepped on Earth. Max loves the little bean with all his heart and he himself is surprised that he’s capable of loving a little human this much. He’s practically convinced that he’ll be a shitty father one day. He does not have a good model figure to look up to when it comes to fatherhood.

Little P, Max learns, is obsessed with crocheted things. Max sees her little bags and little hats—all crocheted. Kelly says she pays their housekeeper to make things for little Penelope because she likes them so much.

Max decides he wants to learn how to crochet. He buys the material and learns through hundreds of Youtube videos. His first masterpiece is a bag. It's white and light orange. He shows it to his mum, who questions how on Earth did her son take an interest in a hobby other than racing or anything car-related. Despite that, she compliments it and Max feels confident that you’ll like it, too, now that he’s gotten his mother’s approval.

He finishes making it by the eighteenth day of December and he calls you, hoping he has the chance to give it before you fly down to Texas for the off-season. But you already left Monaco, just the day before and are now spending the first few weeks of the break in New Zealand with Leo.

“So it's serious?” Max asks you over the phone. He stares at the dark sky in Belgium. There's no stars tonight. Only the moon and it’s looking down at him like it's mocking him. Max wonders what the sky looks like in New Zealand right now.

“Of course,” you say.

“Well then, enjoy the holidays.”

“You, too, man.”

The call ends.

2021

Max sees you enter the Red Bull hospitality. The first thing he notices is that your shoes are brand new. Same model—the black and gold YSL Opyum heels, yes he knows the name because he searched it on Google—but brand new. Your bag is also brand new and it’s not the old cream-colored tote bag with peach prints. It's a cream-colored tote bag with Van Gogh’s painting—the Starry Night—printed at the front. You show it to Max excitedly and tell him that it's from Leo, the bag and the shoes, and Max fakes a smile the whole time. When he returns to his room in the evening, he throws the crochet bag he made over December in the trash bin. Kelly sees it but she doesn't question it.

“PR suggests that you film a Tiktok.”

Max groans, throwing his head back and rolling his eyes to the back of his head.

“Tell them no.”

“Come on, it’ll be fun,” you encourage him, shaking his shoulders. “There's a lot of dance trends right now.”

“I said no, [Name].”

“Max.”

You throw your hands on your waist, looking at him pointedly with your lips pursed. Max returns the stare.

He gives up after five seconds.

“Fine.”

You huff in triumph.

“But you’re doing it with me,” Max bargains.

“Oh come on,” you throw your hands in the air.

“Now you know how it feels. Tell PR that I’m not going to film a Tiktok unless you film it with me,” Max smiles cheekily.

You're not going to film a Tiktok video with him. He knows you hate filming yourself and posting it for the public. There's a reason why you avoided cameras as if it’s the sun and you're a vampire and had all your social media accounts in private.

You pull an unexpected move and you nod your head.

“Fine.”

Max’s smile drops.

You film a Tiktok using Red Bull Racing’s official Tiktok account. A simple dance. Max does not know the title. The steps are simple and it's easy to memorize. He believes he can do this fairly easily. You don't look like you’re having fun while memorizing the dance steps but you're not overly struggling.

You film the video in three takes. When Max sees the final outcome, he cringes. His long limbs look awkward as he performs the steps despite thinking that he’s doing fine while filming it. You, on the other hand, look fine.

You look good while dancing actually. There’s a certain grace that accompanied your movements.

“You dance good,” Max comments.

“It’s the Latina in me,” you claim, raising your chin a little.

Max snorts.

You show the draft video to the PR team. Without hesitation, they scratched it.

“Why?” Max asks, brows furrowing.

“Apparently, they're too tired releasing statements that we’re not dating. They're afraid that the Tiktok video would bring back our dating rumors,” you roll your eyes. “They’ve decided to just make you do a Tiktok filter game.”

Max does the one filter where he has to solve the simple math equations projected on the screen. He has to tilt his head to the side where the right answer is placed and he needs to do it quickly.

Max is not bad at Mathematics. He’s not good at it either. He’ll say that he’s just average at it like every human being on Earth.

You sit beside him, barking him the answers before his brain can even process and perform the required operations.

“60 points. That's not good enough,” he says.

You nod, “Damn right. You're not tilting your head to the right answer fast enough.”

“Maybe you're not giving the answers quick enough.”

The video gets more than ten takes. The two of you don't stop until you get the perfect score.

Monza is a disaster. To summarize: the 53-lap race is won by Daniel Ricciardo, who has now moved to McLaren. He capitalizes on a good front-row start and the crash between Max Verstappen and Lewis Hamilton to take the race lead. Lando, Daniel’s teammate comes in second with Mercedes' Valtteri Bottas in third. Max and Lewis—DNF.

Max doesn't remember the last time he’s been that angry and the anger doubles when he sees the seven-time world champion celebrate on the tracks. Max then decides that he’s going to be more risky, especially now that he knows how safe the car is. Max is willing to risk his life for number one.

Max lies in the medical bay and he hears voices outside. Too many voices. He’ll appreciate it greatly if the voices disappear. He's too angry right now that the noise of the outside world is too much.

“Max?”

The voices disappear and it's only you he can see, he can hear, he can feel. You're everything.

You said it. His name. It sounds even better than he imagined.

“[Name].”

After making sure he’s okay, you tell Max that you wish to go to Danny and congratulate him for winning. Max grabs your hand, unwilling to let go.

“You're not his manager anymore,” Max reminds you. “You're mine.”

He’s very much aware that he sounds like a child who refuses to let his older brother borrow his favorite toy but he cannot find himself to care. Screw Daniel.

You give him a long look but follows his demands anyway, “We’re gonna congratulate him later whether you like it or not. He’s our friend and he just got P1. We’re gonna be happy for him 'cuz that's what friends do. I’ll drag your ass to his hotel room if I have to.”

Jos Verstappen is not happy. When has he ever been happy with Max anyway? He calls Max after the Monza race and proceeds to yell because that’s all he ever does with Max. He yells. Max is embarrassed that he’s twenty-three and he’s still getting yelled at by his own father.

“Your Dad’s an asshole,” you stated after he ends the call. Max knows you heard his father’s voice even though he has not put the call on loudspeaker.

“Don't talk to my Dad like that,” he reprimands, though not unkindly. “But yeah, he is.”

You snort, “You okay?”

Max lets out a shaky breath, nodding weakly.

"Yeah, I'm fine. You would think that after all this time I would get used to it but I don't know. It still makes me feel so uncomfortable and like I'm doing everything wrong even though I've been doing that for such a long time now and I've achieved so many things he asked for."

Your gaze softens and Max mentally begs that you stop looking at him like that. He does not want your pity. Pity is for the weak. Max is not weak.

You open your arms, “Rein it in, big guy.”

“What are you doing?”

“You need a hug.”

Max hesitates but he invites himself to your arms anyway. He allows himself to melt. In your arms, he feels like he's home and that he's good enough.

The breakup happens two race weekends later. Max is not dumb nor is he so emotionally indifferent that he cannot sense if a person is going through a breakup especially if that person is someone so close to him. He already knows there’s something wrong and he knows exactly what’s wrong and yet he still asks, “What's wrong?”

“Nothin’,” you say a little too quickly as if you already know that Max is going to ask the question.

“[Name],” his fingers circle around your wrist. “It's not nothing. Your eyes are red. Have you been crying?”

He wants you to open up. He wants you to say something. He wants you to share the heartache you carry so it won't feel heavy on your shoulders. He wants to be someone who’ll carry your problems with you when the world feels too big and you too small.

You sigh shakily, forcing a polite smile. Your hand comes up to squish Max’s cheek in between your palms and Max’s brows rise slightly at the action. Your hands feel cold and they’re trembling slightly and Max wants to point it out, but he sees how your lips wobble and his mind just blanks, “It's not important. You only have one thing to think about and that is to win. You hear me?”

Max considers marching to the Williams Racing livery and demanding for Leo Stark but he chooses not to. You won't want him to, anyway.

Max never realizes how horrifying blood is until he sees it dripping down the side of your head. He watches as your face changes from shock to realization to absolute anger. It’s like watching you transform from human to a rabid animal who wants to shed blood. At first, he tries to pull you away and calm you down. When he sees the girl’s boyfriend appear, Max joins the fight. No man is allowed to hit you. Not on his watch.

The higher-ups are not the happiest when they learn of what happened. The PR team is having a field day as well. Someone captured the event in video and posted it online. Max has been given a script for the video he’ll have to do to save his image but it’s written differently. Different in a way that the way the words are arranged feels odd to him unlike the way you write your scripts for Max. You write the scripts as if Max is the one who writes them. You write the script in a way Max will write them. Because you know him enough to know what kind of words he wants to use and how he’ll phrase things. You choose words that are easy on his tongue and you structure the sentences so that he can memorize them easily.

Helmut is the one who says, “She should leave the team.”

“If you fire her, I’m leaving,” Max decides.

Christian narrows his eyes at him, “You won't dare.”

“Try me,” he challenges. “I am willing to pay millions to leave if she leaves.”

The other teams want him, Max knows. They know he’s rising to stardom, a racer who can stand equal to Lewis Hamilton in the right time. Red Bull is too afraid of spitting out their star now. Not when Max is already giving Lewis Hamilton a big run for his money this year. Not when Max just showed the world that he’s capable of more than just being third place.

The wretched Hamilton fan decides to sue and Max calls upon his mother’s help to find the best lawyers to fight for you. Sophie willingly helps him.

Max is going to protect you, like you always do to him.

#max verstappen x reader #f1 x reader #formula 1 #formula one #max verstappen #max verstappen x you #f1 imagines #manager!reader #mv33 x you #mv1 x reader #mv33 x reader #mv1 #mv33

518 notes · View notes

kelstey · 4 months

Text

get him back!

mattheo riddle x reader

warnings : none

❃゜・。. ・°゜✼ ゜°・ . 。・゜❃

i met a guy last summer and i left him in the spring

"hey," you shielded your eyes with your hand from the sun, squinting at the figure in front of you.

"hey," you replied. you allowed your eyes to adjust, realising that a literal god of a man was standing in front of you.

"i'm mattheo," he brung his hand out in front of him for a hand shake.

"i'm y/n."

he argued with me about everything he had an ego and a tempter and a wandering eye

"you're such a dick! you were fully undressing her with your eyes!" you shouted at him, heated, absolutely enraged he was gaslighting you.

"staring at who?! you're making things up," mattheo ran his hand through his stupidly soft, brown hair.

"oh making things up?" you laughed at the stupidity that was coming out of his mouth, "i have eyes! i could see you checking her out as if i weren't right next to you!"

"yeah, whatever," he scoffed and walked away

he said he's six foot two

"and i'm like dude nice try," you giggled to pansy, gossiping about all the juicy drama to her.

"you love tall guys, he seems perfect," you blushed at her words, knowing she was right.

but he was so much fun, and he had such weird friends

"why do you have a ferret?" you questioned mattheo.

"it's just draco, i'm taking him back to snape to see if he can fix him," he chuckled and handed the white animal over to you.

"and how exactly did he get in this predicament?" you giggled as the little thing tried to bite

and he would take us out to parties and the night would ever end

another song, another club, another bar, another dance

you were pressed up against mattheo, grinding on him as the music deafened you. his hands were glued to your hips, gluing you to him.

"another drink?" he shouted in your ear.

"fuck yeah!" you shouted back, heading over to the bar to order another 10 shots.

and when he said something wrong he'd just fly me to france

"c'mon darlin, drivers here and he's taking us to my family's villa," you stepped off of the plane in paris, feeling like some sort of royalty.

"i can hardly speak french," you giggled, heading over to the personal driver who was parked, awaiting your arrival.

"i'll speak it for you, sweetheart," he winked, opening the car door for you.

so i miss him some nights when i'm feeling depressed

you laid on your side, mascara smudged all under your eyes as you continued to stare off into space; your mind on one person, and one person only.

you rolled onto your back, staring at the still ceiling as you reminisced the times he held you in his arms, the way his soft lips felt against your lips - and everywhere else on your body.

til i remember every time he made a pass on my friend

your eyebrows furrowed, frustrating growing through your body when you remember the one time mattheo hit on astoria right in front of you.

"hey," you watched as his hand was placed on the arch of her back.

"hey mattheo," she smiled and you frowned.

"you look gorgeous tonight, mind if i get you a drink?" be was now dangerously close to her and you felt as if steam was coming out of your ears.

do i love him? do i hate him? i guess it's up and down

if i had to choose, i would say it right now i wanna get him back i wanna make him really jealous wanna make him feel bad oh, i wanna get him back

cause then again i really miss him and it makes me real sad

oh, i want sweet revenge and i want him again i want to get him back, back, back

so irerite bim all these letters and i throw

them in the trash

"dear mattheo,

i hate you, but i love you. and i hate you again. you're a piece of shit. i never want you to speak to me again but i don't want you to ever stop trying to reach out. you confuse me so much. i know we're bad for each other but you're the only one i want. cause i miss the the way you kiss, and the way you make me laugh."

yeah, i pour my little heart out but as i'm hittin' send

i picture all the faces on my disappointed friends

"you did what?!" pansy screeched in the middle of the hall.

"girl shut up! pineapple might hear! plus, i only wrote it in my notes. merlin, do you really think i'm stupid enough to hit send?" you scolded her.

"i wouldn't put it past you," she began walking again and you rolled your eyes, knowing she was right.

because everyone knew all of the shit that he'd do

"he's not the type of guy you should be with, y/n,"

theo spoke to you, his thumb rubbing circles over your hands as you told him the things he did.

"he said i was the only girl but that just wasn't the truth," you felt your eyes water, theo giving you a pitiful look.

and when i told him how he hurt me, he'd tell me i was trippin'

"you keep giving me mixed signals, mattheo," you were now beyond exhausted of the arguing.

"you're trippin'," he couldn't even look you in the eyes as he knew what you were saying was factual.

you titled your head, "you're a fucking cunt." you poked your index finger into his chest, pushing past him as you headed to class.

but i am my fathers daughter, so maybe i could fix him?

your fingers were tangled in his hair, calming him down as he had yet another argument with his father.

mattheo was laid on your stomach, his body between your legs, hands wrapped around your back.

"i just hate him so much," warm, salty tears fell from his face to your stomach.

"i know baby, i know. i'll do my best to help you."

i wanna get him back

i wanna make him really jealous, wanna make him feel bad

oh, i wanna get him back

'cause then again, i really miss him, and it makes me real sad

oh, i want sweet revenge, and i want him again

i want to get him back

i want to get him back, back, back

i wanna key his car

"c'mon, hurry," you waved pansy over, the two of you disguised with all black, baggy outfits, and balaclavas as you hopped over the riddle's manor.

"which one is it?" pansy pulled out her endless assortment of keys.

"that one," you pointed over at the black mercedes.

"posh twat," pansy muttered and tossed you some keys.

"i wanna get him back," you smirked. you carefully went over to the parked car, trying to make as little noise as possible.

quickly you began to run the keys across any surface area of the sleek black car, ruining it as much as possible.

"this is for making me listen to y/n rant about you 24 fucking 7," pansy mumbled to herself.

i wanna make him lunch

"hey love," you gave mattheo a sweet kiss on the cheek as you handed over the bowl of pasta, his absolute favourite of yours.

"you truly have my heart," you fake smiled at his

comment.

i wanna break his beart

you straddled theo's lap, his large hands going under your skirt as he massaged away at your ass. his lips were hungry for yours, the kiss was rough but it was everything you wanted and needed.

you had thought because of the dark lighting, and crowds of people, that mattheo wouldn't see. but oh he did.

his heart shattered, dropping at the sight of you with his best friend. he downed the rest of his drink (aka straight whiskey) before heading over to the two of you, ready to fuck some shit up.

you moved your hips against theo's, grinding on his boner, his lips still eager for more of you. he knew it was bad - betraying his friend. but you wanted to get mattheo back, and theo was only there for some very 'moral', moral support.

you were ripped away from theo, landing on the foor with a thud, you looked up to see mattheo going ham at theo, punching him over and over as the fight broke out.

you stared in horror - enzo pulling you away from the horrific sight.

then be the one to stitch it up

"hey matty," you walked into mattheo's room. he was sat at his window ledge, head in his book which he was reading intently.

"what do you want?" he didn't even glance up at you.

"i'm sorry about last night," you made your way to him.

finally, mattheo looked up at you. his heart nearly bursted out of his chest seeing you in his hoodie - the one you always wore when you stayed over.

"baby," his voice was now softer, his eyes staring at you in adoration as the memories of the nights you spent together came back to him.

"i'm really sorry," you pouted your lips, knowing it was all so fake.

wanna kiss his face

you held mattheo close, his face rested on your chest. you leaned down, peppering kisses onto his face 'lovingly'.

you smiled down at him, "i love you."

"i love you too," you said, he put his face back in your chest. you looked up, the smile wiped immediately off of your face.

with an uppercut

wanna meet his mum

just to tell her her son sucks

"hi mrs riddle," you smiled at the older lady as she opened the door.

"hi, and who might you be?" you tried your hardest not to let the disappointment take over as you realised mattheo clearly had never talked about you at home.

"i'm y/n, and i'd love to tell you all about mattheo. i suppose he's clearly not mentioned me then?"

oh i wanna key his car

"what the fuck?!" mattheo yelled, his arms flailed up as he stared at his car, freshly bought and freshly keyed.

"what are you - oh," his father stepped out of the house, face dropping at the scene in front of them.

wanna make him lunch

mattheo was crouched over the toilet seat, uncontrollably puking over and over as draco rubbed his back.

"mate what the fuck is wrong with you?" draco was both disgusted yet trying not to laugh.

"y/n made me lunch. think she's poison-" he threw up, yet again into the toilet.

"suppose she's got to get you back somehow." mattheo shot draco a glare. "apologies," draco held up his hands in defence.

i wanna break his heart

"hey tom," you wandered into mattheo's older brothers room.

"what?" he turned around from his desk.

"oh nothing," you held your hands behind your back, innocently walking over to tom. "just wanted to see you, is all."

you sat on his lap, fixing his loose tie. tom's hand supported you on his lap, a slight firm grasp on your thigh too. you finished sorting his tie, your eyes flickering up to his eyes.

"have i ever told you how much hotter than mattheo you are?" tom smirked at your comment.

"my very own brother, hm?" his face was close to yours, millimetres away from each other.

you nodded, looking from his eyes down to his lips. "i do prefer older guys," you closed the space between you and tom.

as if on cue, mattheo walked in.

stitch it right back up

"mattheo, i don't know what got into him! he just pulled me onto his lap and you just walked in," you explained to mattheo.

"do you promise me?" he looked up at you, sadness in his eyes. you felt bad, but he felt nothing when you were depressed over him for months.

"promise, sweetie, you know i'd never," oh yes you absolutely would.

wanna kiss his face, with an uppercut

"oops!" you covered your mouth with your hand as you accidentally 'nudged' mattheo's arm as he was mid falling asleep in class, his face hitting off of the table.

"want me to kiss it better?" you asked him.

"please."

i wanna meet his mum, and tell her her son sucks

"oh he did not," his mum was appalled, hand covering her mouth as you told her about the year long situationship with her son.

"oh he did, and then, he had the audacity to be like "you're trippin',", ugh the cheek!" you took another sip of your tea.

"oh and don't get me started on the time he was flirting with my friend in front of me! but then he got upset cause i kissed one of his friends as payback."

i'll get him, i'll get him, i'll get him, i'll get him back

get him back

i'm gonna get him so good, he's not even gonna know what hit him

he's gonna love me and hate me at the same time

he didn't know wether to hate you or love you. but what he did know, was that he was undoubtedly obsessed with you.

"please, y/n, i'll do anything," he was on his knees in front of you, begging for your forgiveness.

you really wondered how he even had feelings towards you - you keyed his car, made him lunch that was poisoned, broke his heart by kissing his best friend and brother, told his mum all the shit he did and how he sucked.

but here he was, willing to give up anything and everything for you.

you had finally got him back.

❃゜・。. ・°゜✼ ゜°・ . 。・゜❃

539 notes · View notes

siriuslysmoking · 4 months

Note

omg the theo idea!!!! do it!

Sent Not Received

Summary: In which Theodore Nott did not receive the letters you sent.

Warnings: major miscommunication, Exes to lovers? Yelling, kissing

All year you had been trying to contact all of your friends from Hogwarts and you heard back from them- well most of them.

Pansy would write you almost every day, Blaise would update you on everything happening back at Hogwarts, Enzo would ask how you were doing, Draco would write maybe once every other week. Even Mattheo would write you back.

It shouldn't have surprised you when you didn't hear back from him. You had left after a big fight- left meaning you were forced to go.

Your parents were strict, they didn't think Hogwarts right place for you anymore, not after the war, after the leadership changed. They made you move in with you aunt who lived in France, so you could get a proper education.

Theo thought you had left him, he distanced himself from the group, with them all talking about you he couldn't stand it; not after everything. It took you so long just to get you were in your relationship and you threw that away, for what France?

He hadn't heard from you all year, he didn't reach out, he didn't need to, he knew what you wanted, and that was not him. He's accepted it, after ten months he's accepted it.

Pansy doesn't mention Theo in her letters, she knows it's a sore subject. But neither do you.

When your parents contact you for the first time in months you're nervous, wondering what they want. But when they let you know that you're permitted to return back to the United Kingdom, you're ecstatic.

Before you even reply to your family, you sign a letter to McGonagall, asking permission to arrive through a portkey to Hogwarts, to surprise your friends.

She sends a package with a silver goblet after three days. She signs it with one word: Portkey

You don't even think twice, before grabbing your trunk and the portkey. You get dizzy when you arrive in the Headmistresses office. "Hello, Ms. L/n."

"Hello, Professor." You smile and she quickly returns it. She gives you the password to the common room and sends you on your way.

You make haste running down to the dungeons, you leave your bags in Mcgonagall's office so you don't have to lug them wherever you go.

The common room is empty when you arrive, dinner is almost finished so you sit in the window sill in the corner, out of site. You enjoy the emptiness of the room, missing the atmosphere of Hogwarts over the months you've been gone.

The bustiling of students piling in the room knocks you out of your head. "I'm just saying, if she didn't want to be pushed, she should've gotten out of my way."

"You're an idiot." Replies Blaise at Pansy's everlong spew.

You watch as the group stuff themselves onto the couch, continuing a conversation. "I can't believe I'm friends with you."

You silently laugh at Draco, "Something never do change do they?"

The group goes silent as you make your way out of the window sill. "No!" Pansy gasps, standing up and nearly tripping over Mattheo's feet that are resting on top of the coffee table.

Pansy engulfs you in a hug, basically jumping on top of you. "You're here!"

You reply to Enzo with a hug.

"I missed you so much!" While you were giving hugs you noticed the lack of an aura in the room, one you had grown accustomed to over the past couple of years.

You make eye contact with Blaise and he nods to the stairwell to the boys dormitory.

They're in the same dorm they were last year, when you knock Theo is slow to answer the door. "What do you want."

"I wanted to say hi."

"Well now you did." He goes to close the door but you stop him.

"This is not how it was supposed to go." You step into the room and he lets you with a sigh.

"What?" He asks you, not understanding while he was standing in front of you after all this time.

"It was supposed to be me and you."

"Well, that's not how it turned out to be, that's life for you."

"Why didn't you try?" You sigh, "You just gave up."

"I didn't do anything." Theo snaps, "You left!"

"I didn't want to-"

"You left me for what- france?" He laughs sarcastically, huffing and turning from you to run his hands through his hair.

"I explained what happened." You say softly, trying to lower the tone of the conversation.

"Oh, really? Cause I didn't hear shit."

"I wrote you, you never replied to my letters- everyone else did, but you-" You feel tears trying to claw their ways out of your eyes, but you refuse to cry, you've cried too much after his absence.

"-What letters?" He quickly turned to you.

"w-what?" You stutter out, not understanding

"What letters?"

"The-The letters I sent you all year that you ignored!"

"I didn't get any letters." He shook his head, with an expression that told you he wasn't lying.

"I sent dozens of them."

"I didn't receive them." His eyes are wide, "I didn't get the letters."

"I sent them as soon as I got there, I explained that I didn't want to go, that- that I missed you and even if you didn't want to see or hear from me that I loved you."

"Loved?" He pauses, meeting your eyes.

"Love, I will always love you, shit like that doesn't go away." You laugh softly.

"I love you too." He seems to melt, meeting his lips with yours in a passionate kiss.

A kiss that you had missed over the past few months, his body heat warming you, his cologne surronding you.

God, how you've missed him.

Reblogs and Likes are appreciated <3

Taglist: @crimsntwlip @leonesimp

#theodore nott x y/n #theo nott imagine #theo nott x reader #theodore nott x you #theodore nott #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott imagine #theo nott x y/n #theo nott #harrry potter #slytherin boys #theodore nott smut

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ghostlyloversworld · 3 months

Text

.｡.｡:∞♡*♥ making me love you! ♥*♡∞:｡.｡

Percy Jackson! X Fem! Persephone Reader

Idea! - the son of Poseidon and daughter of Persephone realizing that they aren't so different after all.

Waring! Cussing

Song Get him back! By Olivia Rodrigo

One, two, three Wait, is this the song with the drums?.

Percy groans as he tossed and turned in bed. He couldn't sleep that night, which was unusual for the demigod considering he's usually fast asleep drooling.

He pushed the blanket off him. He puts his feet on the ground, why was tonight so warm for no reason?. Gods he hated it ".. " his breathing steadily

I met a guy in the summer and I left him in the spring He argued with me about everything He had an ego and a temper and a wandering eye He said he's six-foot-two, and I'm like, "Dude, nice try".

But he was so much fun and he had such weird friends And he would take us out to parties and the night would never end Another song, another club, another bar, another dance And when he said something wrong, he'd just fly me to France So I miss him some nights when I'm feeling depressed 'Til I remember every time he made a pass on my friend Do I love him? Do I hate him? I guess it's up and down If I had to choose, I would say right now.

The son of Poseidon sighs as he walks to his bathroom. Tyson was fast asleep across the other hallway. He tried to find the light switch in the dark, but he struggles to find it for a good moment until the little 'click! ' noise when he found it he had switched the little switch up words.

He finally turns the water on. He let's it run for a good while before he finally splash water on his face. He turns the water off before grabbing a rag he softly pats his face with the rag. He took a good moment to look at his face, he sighs and runs his hands through his Raven hair.

But he wasn't the only one up. The daughter of Persephone was also up. But she was sitting down. At docks her feet swinging back and forth as she watched the water under her feet. Don't worry she had her shoes on making sure they didn't get wet with the water. She thinks that the water was just the right temperature but she wasn't going to try and figure out.

I wanna get him back I wanna make him really jealous, wanna make him feel bad Oh, I wanna get him back 'Cause then again, I really miss him, and it makes me real sad Oh, I want sweet revenge And I want him again I want to get him back, back, back.

As she sits there looking at the water. She hears the smooth voice of the son of Poseidon. "Can't sleep? " he asked as he walked up to her ".. Are you stalking me?" She asked him as she looks at the water "what? no.. I don't stalk people" he laughs at her question

"Hmm m'kay.." She sighs before she looks up at the boy who had one streak of white in his hair. "You still drool in you're sleep.. But I don't say it to not let you down hardly" she smirks he rolls his eyes "oh shut up.. You're also not pretty when sleeping.. " he laughs. "Ah so you do stalk people" "no I don't I already told you this " he sighs "that's stalking when you watch people sleep" she stats.

But that was last night. Now it was Morning.. She and Percy stayed up talking about nothing important. Just being teenagers.. The usual teasing, just a hint of flirting and just being idiots. They were at breakfast. At their tables. So when the daughter of Persephone looks up from her plate.

She saw Percy shoved blue pancakes in his mouth. She smirks and rolls her eyes before looking down at her plate again. He sat with Tyson . His half brother the boy who was a actual big sweetheart who was scared of Satyr's she actually felt bad for Tyson. The poor Cyclops

But when she saw the way the Cyclops face lit up with happiness. She smiles she had looked up in time to see it

So I write him all these letters and I throw them in the trash 'Cause I miss the way he kisses and the way he made me laugh Yeah, I pour my little heart out, but as I'm hitting "Send" I picture all the faces of my disappointed friends Because everyone knew all of the shit that he'd do He said I was the only girl but that just wasn't the truth And when I told him how he hurt me, he'd tell me I was trippin' But I am my father's daughter, so maybe I could fix him.

She fixed her hair. She looks away not wanting to seem like a creep but it was a little to late because Percy had saw her staring. He smirks and rolls his eyes

Actually he already knew everytime she would look their way.

I wanna key his car (I want to get him back)I wanna make him lunch (but then I, I want to get him back) I wanna break his heart (but then I, I want to get him back) And be the one to stitch it up (but then I, I want to get him back) Wanna kiss his face (but then I, I want to get him back) With an uppercut (but then I, I want to get him back) I wanna meet his mom (but then I, I want to get him back) Just to tell her her son sucks (but then I, I want to get him back).

Tyson kept talking so happily. Not even noticing the staring girl. But it wasn't like she was trying to be rude. She just wanted to make sure they were okay. And laugh at Percy when he shoves blue pancakes in his mouth. God he was so stupid but she loved him. Wait what? She loved him?

I wanna key his car (I want to get him back) I wanna make him lunch (but then I, I want to get him back) I wanna break his heart (but then I, I want to get him back) And be the one to stitch it up (but then I, I want to get him back) Wanna kiss his face (but then I, I want to get him back) With an uppercut (but then I, I want to get him back) I wanna meet his mom (but then I, I want to get him back) Just to tell her her son sucks (but then I, I want to get him back).

So after lunch when breakfast had ended and everyone went their own ways. She finally found him training by himself. She walks up to him " jeez sea boy" he looks over at her "what flower girl" she smirks "oh just being my favorite as always. Mwah" he laughs "what the fu-. " she looks at him "don't cuss. There is kids around" she smirks

He laughs more "oh so you're so considered for the children. "Aye.. Those kids are innocent right now" she laughs. Great minds think alike. "Oh wow" he laughs so hard that his face was red "jeez you're blushing over me" she teased him "maybe " he shrugged. "Or maybe you're just to pretty for me" he shrugged.

I'll get him, I'll get him, I'll get him, I'll get him back Get him back, come on, come on I'm gonna get him so good, he won't even know what hit him He's gonna love me and hate me at the same time Get him back, girl, you better get him back I don't know I got him good, I got him really good.

#x fem!reader #pjo #fem reader #x female reader #percy jackson x reader #tyson percy jackson #grover underwood

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the-bi-library · 7 months

Text

With November here, here are bi books out in November!

Let me know if I missed any bi books out in November. Books listed: The Mischievous Letters of the Marquise de Q by Felicia Davin The Santa Pageant by Lillian Barry I'm A Princess That Ran Away To A Magical World by Terry Bartley Til Death Do Us Bard by Rose Black Abbott: 1979 by Saladin Ahmed and Sami Kivela (Artist) Outdrawn by Deanna Grey Violet Moon by Mel E. Lemon Hummingbird: Part Two by Frances M. Thompson Vicarious by Chloe Spencer Tonight, I Burn by Katharine J. Adams A Power Unbound by Freya Marske @freyamarske Until the Blood Runs Dry by MC Johnson Dark Heir by C.S. Pacat Ride with Me by Jenna Jarvis We Are the Crisis by Cadwell Turnbull Allure by CEON Delay of Game by Ari Baran Hunt on Dark Waters by Katee Robert One Night in Hartswood by Emma Denny To Kill a Shadow by Katherine Quinn Come Out, Come Out by Alexia Onyx 💖Make sure to check TWs for all books if necessary. 💖Preorders help the authors greatly, so make sure to preorder any book(s) that catch your interest. 💖Here is the goodreads list of these books

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spidybaby · 8 months

Note

Hi♥️

Can we get a Gold Digger Part III?

Gold Digger | Part III

Summary: Feeling fearful and insecure about the future after a downfall is what kept you away.

Warnings: cursing.

A/N: I've been trying to finish this for a long time. Not able to find the inspiration. Buuuuut, after the Euros match, I totally find the guts to open my drafts and finish what I've been procrastinating. Hope you still find this interesting and read it. Love you all 💛 sorry about the time.

Part one | Part two

London - Seventeen months later

"I think you're ready to go back. The question here is if you feel ready"

"I am. I think I've been ready for a while now."

"And what's stopping you?"

"What if we don't work out?"

"Time is unpredictable."

"What if he realized that I'm not what he wants anymore?"

"You know that is not the case. You told me that."

"I'm scared."

"It's okay, it's going to be fine."

Paris - Eighteen months later

14:35 p.m.

"So, can we say you find the one?" Julien, your friend asks you. "Because I think you have."

"Yes, I found the one."

He clapped happily, popping the champagne he had for this special moment.

You were looking for an apartment. Returning to Paris after more months of being out, he helped you look for the perfect place to return to your parisian life.

"I want to make a toast, for the girl I love the most, and the one I know is ready to shine in all the meaning of the word."

"Je t'aime." You smile, giving him a hug. He was a big part of your return to France.

After graduating, you got an opportunity to go to London with the company that you always wanted to work for.

They were expanding their business and chose París to begin. Since you knew the language and had your whole education there, they naturally asked you to take over the company.

"Let's get this paperwork done with and you and I are going on a furniture hunt." You say, grabbing your pen, walking to the entrance while drinking your champagne.

Paris - Kylian therapist office

"Did you bring the letter I asked you to write?"

"Oui, I wrote my heart out."

"Okay, know follow my instructions. Go home, have a shower, have a nice dinner and some wine if you want to extra relax. You told me you have a fireplace so, turn it on and burn the letter."

"Don't you want to read it?"

"No, I'm not, but you can do a last reading before the burning. This will end a cicle, this means you understand that it happened."

"It happened." He nods.

Parc des princes

- 5:30 p.m. -

"Kyky" neymar shouts from the inside of the stadium. "Want to come with us tonight? Bruna and I are doing a special dinner with friends."

"I can go a little after dinner, I have to do something first."

"Do you have a date? Hmm?" Ney poke his stomach, making Kylian laugh and smack his hand away.

"No, just something I have to do tonight. But for that pasta Bruna makes I'm definitely having a cheat day." He laughs, giving Ney a hug while they exit to the field.

The training goes fine. He let his frustration on the field, turning it into magic while he moves the ball with his feet.

"I miss Sergio. I feel like a part of me is gone, " hakimi says, faking crying and making everyone laugh.

"You miss Sergio more than your ex." Neymar shouts from the other side of the field.

"That's it, Junior."

Kylian laughs at the two guys running around, having fun.

Fun is something he ultimately didn't have. The transfer market is happening. After the higher-ups decided to announce to the world that he didn't want to stay till the end of his contract. The whole internet was a mess.

His parents had long talks with him about his career. Telling him what to do. He's young, too young to be this worried about life.

But he knows that without the help of his parents, he wouldn't be where he is right now.

"Ethan, don't sleep. That ball was an easy catch."

"Who's the boss here? Luis or you?"

"Just do what I say." He says, hitting his head in a joking manner. "Do you want to come with me to Ney tonight?"

"Nah, mom wants to go get this couch she's been obsessed with for the last month. The store lady told her that they only had one in existence and she wants it."

"Okay." He says, continuing with the training.

- On the other side of France -

"I want another couch, like one for the bedroom. I saw a beautiful one on pinterest."

"Do you have an idea if there's a store that sells this here?" He asks, looking at the pictures.

"Yes, I actually called like an hour ago, and they told me they will have one in existence. But they're unpacking it, so it's going to be in exhibition in like an hour. Let's go."

Julien shrugs, grabbing his coat and walking behind you to the elevator. "The PSG has a game this Sunday."

"Nice." You say, ignoring his intentions. "I need a charger."

"Don't give me that attitude." He hits you with the newspaper on his hand. "You know why I say this."

"I know, but like I said. Everything has a time, and I need to find my time to do what I need to do."

"Okay, no biggie."

You call an Uber to take you both to the mall. The store is located in this mall that's a little far from your house.

When you arrived you both check stores and pick some things to decorate. Julien knows the vibe you want for this apartment.

"Hey, I'm going to check the couch to see if it's worth the price." You pat his shoulder. He was trying to find the perfect "dinner plates."

You check some emails while you walk there, not paying attention to anything else. Once you arrive, the lady who spoke with you told you the couch was just about to be ready.

Letting you walk to the store, you check other furniture that might be a good competition for this one.

You wanted something that you could relax without replacing the bed, but you also don't want to do work on the bed.

An "L" shaped couch picked your attention. It was in a dark brown color. The couch was beautiful, pretty similar to something that has your mind burning.

"Mademoiselle, we have the couch ready if you want to see it."

"Merci, I want to ask, do this couch come in a cream color?"

While the lady shows the colors of the couch you were eying while you two walk over to the pinterest couch.

You turn your back to the other one. Even when you don't want to accept it. It reminds you of the one you had on the room you shared with him.

"I think I want the other one more."

"We have it in three colors. Shall we go to see the other options? We have them on our second floor."

"Oui." You nod smiling.

While you walk upstairs, there are two people walking in the store, two faces you know more than enough.

"Ethan, can you please put the phone down? I want your help."

"Fine, but after this you're taking me to eat."

Fayza laughs. "It would have been cheaper to come alone, I see."

"Having a daughter was also an option." He laughs, his mother hitting him on the back of the head.

They were scolted to the couch, and Fayza immediately loved it. Picturing it in the perfect space in her house.

While they get checked out, you were trying to decide between a light brown or a cream dirty white color.

"Okay, this one would be."

"Amazing, if you follow me back to the first floor to get everything settle, your address, the payment."

You texted Julien, finding he was waiting for you at this restaurant. Asking him to send you a picture of the menu so you can pick while paying.

You lift your head back to the room, finding a face looking at you curious. The way Ethan eyes light up when he confirms it's you.

- Kylian's House -

The music in the room is calm, a nice jazz to relax his muscles. The outfit is ready to go out. But he has to burn his past to prepare to start a new present.

But he can't let go of the envelope. He's holding it tight, holding it like his life dependent on it. Maybe because what's written on it made his life take a turn.

He sighs, leaving the letter on the couch. He was feeling ready when he spoke with his therapist, but now that he actually has to do it, it is like a burning sensation.

Does this mean he has to burn the feelings he has for you?

After all, it's been more than a year, and you haven't come back to him. He was working hard.

But his year wasn't the best, the club fighting with him, the press fighting with him and even Paris people mad at him.

All he wanted to do was go back to when you would be there for him after the long training hours, after the comments, after the thick and the thin.

But he can't, and he regrets it all the time.

- Neymar's house -

"Vamos Kyky, good thing you came, Bruna was asking about you"

"I bring her something."

"She's going to love it. Let's go inside."

The majority of the team was there. They were celebrating the news of Neymar and Bruna.

He was happy, even though Neymar and him had some shady times, he was friendly after all, for the sake of the team.

"Hakimi, stop with the potatoes, Luis is going to kill you, man."

"Shut it Mbappe, you were eating chocolate last week, and nobody told you shit."

They all laugh. He loves these times because that distracts him. That makes him feel less alone at home. Where no one was waiting, where no one was thinking about him.

The time with his teammates was good. He drank some cocktails. He was going to regret it tomorrow, but he needed them.

"How are the kids?" He asks Achraf, they were walking to their cars.

"They're with their mom. They are so big, I had to buy them everything again because they grew out of the clothes."

"In Spain?"

"Yes, I can't wait to see them, Hiba is bringing them here and they're staying a few days."

He's happy for his friend, after everything for him his kids were the most important thing.

"Dude, I really miss Verrati."

"I can't believe he's gone, he would have chug that bottle down and be fine tomorrow."

"I want to ask you something, Kicks." Achraf sighs. "How are you? I know you have been down, you know I'm here."

Was he okay? Was he bad? Was he sad? Or angry?

He's feeling everything and nothing at the same time. It's like this for time to time. Sometimes he's fine, happy. But then everything in him feels down, feels blue.

"Don't worry, I'm fine. It's just I guess the season."

"You know I'm here. Right?" Achraf repeats.

"I do, and I'm thankful for that."

- The furniture store - Hours prior

"When did you come back?" Ethan throws himself at you, who with open arms receives the hug. "This is such a surprise."

"Hello, roots."

"Mom, look who's here." He says, letting you go.

Fayza turns at the call of her name, her eyes illuminating at the sight of you. She can't deny how much she misses you.

"Ma belle." Same as Ethan, she hugs you tightly.

"Hello to you two, I've missed you so much."

"When did you come back?" Ethan repeats.

"I been here for a few days now." You confess. "I'm going to be working here."

"So you're back for good?"

"Yes, roots. I am." You hug him back again. "I'm so happy to find you, I missed you a lot."

"We missed you too. You look so good. I was so happy when you told me about your job opportunity."

Fayza and you were close. She went to your graduation, gave you a gift for your birthday, and texted you on Christmas day, on the new year. She was like a mother to you.

"I wanted to be stable here with everything before telling you."

"Oh I'm so happy you're here." Ethan jumps a little. "Even Melissa is going to be so happy."

You wanted them back, wanted your little family bond back, but first got to get the boy back.

"I hope to see you guys again, maybe for a coffee or a chocolate."

"Wait, let's go to dinner." Ethan suggests.

Thankfully, Fayza notices the way you don't want to disappoint Ethan. "Maybe later, we have to go home because you haven't done your homework."

"Oh no, roots go home and finish that homework." You joke, pinching him on the ribs. "We can meet some other time for chocolate or a coffee."

Your conversation was interrupted by the worker who handed Fayza her card. The other worker is waiting for you to complete the sale.

"You guys have the same number? If you do I'll text you and we can meet up, okay?"

They both agree with the plan, saying their goodbye, and with another round of hugs, they left the store.

It's undeniable that the Paris Saint German sucks. They have some good moments, and they have some bad. But the bad ones have lately been much more than the good ones.

The last matches were bad, barely even working as a team. It was like if eleven players were there doing their own thing. No union, nothing.

Some people will say "oh but then won the last two," but with the lack of technique they have, it was a big surprise.

The Clermont team was doing so much better. Leaving zero chances for the team. And it was obvious that they were lacking something because it was almost the end and no goals.

Twitter was crazy about the fact that "The Kylian Mbappe" didn't scored against Clermont.

But it's not on him. It's on the team. It's on everyone. Even the new coach. Galtier did so much shit that you can't change in a few days.

You turn the tv off, angry at the result. Stupid game, you thought. Even if it was a repetition, you were mad as if it was live.

Your phone vibrates, picking your attention. You opened the notification, and it was Ethan who sent you a reel about cookies in a new pâtisserie in Paris.

You needed to use your new oven to see if it was working properly. Also, you bought this chocolate that was really good with some butter cookies.

So you invite him to come over, wanting to release some stress and feel some normality again.

The match against Newcastle was bad. The team lost 4 to 1, and the team was struggling.

You notice how Kylian was down. He's not in good shape. Not physically but mentally. Something that makes you worry.

His knee was bothering him again. He had to leave the field because of the pain. Thing that worried you even more.

You wanted to pick up the phone and message him, telling him that whatever is crossing his mind is just there, in his mind.

"Y/n?" Julian says, waving his hand in front of your face. "Are you okay?"

"Yes, sorry. I got lost in my thoughts."

"Notice that." He laughs, he guessed what you were thinking but didn't say it.

"I wonder if he's okay. He looks tired."

"Text him." He shrugs. "I mean, you came back for a reason, do it."

You tap your nail to your phone. You wanted, but what if he has someone else with him already telling him all the things you should be telling him?

"Not yet." You say, getting up and walking to your fridge. "Ice cream?"

- Dressing room - Parc des princes -

"Guys, honestly, we have to keep going. Don't let this bring you down." Luis, tell the team.

The dressing room has this quiet aura. Everybody is thinking of those four goals that nobody stopped, Donaruma feeling bad, the defense guys feeling the same.

And Kylian, even worse. He's thinking of the shots he missed. The moment where he had opportunities and missed them.

His knee hurts. He's tired. He's not focused on the field. He's just not in his prime. That's obvious to everybody.

Especially to the press, printing his mistakes as the first pages, making his missing shots as their conversation on sports programs. Making the Twitter people feel confident about the shit storm they're giving him.

"Kylian, can I have a word with you?"

Luis Enrique and he walked to the corridor. The other team was happy, leaving. Saying their goodbye to the two of them.

"How is your knee?" He asks, he notice the faces he is doing while walking. "You sure you want to play next match? You still have the euros."

"I'm good, I promise sir."

"Promise me something. If you feel like you're overworking your knee, you're telling me. I prefer to sit you for one or two matches instead of you missing the season and euros."

"I promise."

After the talk, Luis advised him to take some recovery therapy. More therapy, he thought.

The drive home was felt long. His chauffeur was quiet, noticing his demeanor. He needs a hot shower and a good night sleep.

He slams the door of his room. Almost ripping this t-shirt, throwing it with all his force to the wall. He wants to scream but won't.

The shower was more than hot. It was burning. But it was all he needed. To feel something again.

He hated to do skin care, thinking all he wanted at night was to sleep, but you taught him to take care of his skin. Creating a night and morning routine.

Even when you're not there, he still did it.

While he stares at his reflection, on the big mirror above his bed, he doesn't know what weights more.

His regret or the ring that sits and collects dust in his nightstand.

That same ring he bought two days before that night.

The same one he was putting on your finger. Now, sure, he will have to throw it away.

Sure, he won't be having nobody next to him to reassure him everything was going to be alright.

Sure, he won't be thinking of raising children with anybody else.

Sure, he won't be thinking about buying a retirement house with a big backyard where to watch his grandkids playing.

Sure, there won't be anybody after you.

Unsure about you being his future.

"I need the last reports of the head office so I can start to organize everything and have it ready for the opening."

You were working on a meeting, having to multi-task and focus your attention between the meeting and what your co-workers were saying with the football game that's happening.

The Rennes game was better. They were winning. This was the last game before the Euros.

You wanted to see Kylian with the team of Les Bleus. They somehow cheer him up. They were like an energy drink for him.

Olivier, Antoine, even the coach. They were all like a family, and they were there for each other, no matter what.

Fayza invited you to the match, she knew you wanted to talk to him but didn't knew how. Ethan and her decided to keep your return a secret, letting you announced it on your own.

She sent you a jersey with his number on it. You try it on, smiling at the reflection. He loved seeing you in jerseys with his number on it.

And you loved to display your support for your boyfriend. Showing up at matches with his number on full display, showing the people you were his. And he was for sure yours.

You opennyour phone, going to instagram to see his page, you feel like a stalker. But it was the only thing you dare to do right now.

You turn the tv on, wanting to see something while working. And the first thing that pop up is a football news channel. They have Kylian picture on display.

"Kylian Mbappe leaves training to go to Bondy. The player suffered a family lost and asked his trainer Deschamps for permission to go back to his hometown to say his goodbyes."

You want to text Ethan, but you don't want to disrupt them. You wanted to know what was happening.

So you have two options. Achraf or Tchaga. Both will eventually tell Kylian you reach and asked about him. Both were only one call away.

You go for the second option. Having a little more trust in this one. You search for his number on your contacts.

The phone rings until you hit the voice-mail. You block your phone again, questioning if you had to try again or maybe just wait and speak with Fayza or Ethan later.

You take the jersey off, changing back into your pajamas, ready to be comfy again.

The vibration of your phone alert you, thinking it was from work you walk slowly to the device. But once you're close, you notice the name in the screen "Tchaga"

"Hello"

"Hey, long time no see, how are you?"

You smile at the greetings. "I'm good, how are you, scissors?"

"Been better, have a cold. But you didn't call me to know that. Tell me, how can I help you?"

"I heard the news about Ky, and I don't want to bother him or his family. But I want to know if I can help."

"I'm actually planning on going to Bondy, would you like to come with me?"

You wanted to scream a yes. But you have to be rational and think if this is something that he would want.

"I don't want to be a bother."

"You will never be a bother, not to him or his family. Get ready and pack something to change just in case."

"What? Wait, what if he doesn't want me there?"

"Bébé, he's been in a shit whole without you, so get your pretty as to the closet, change into something, and send me your location. I'll be there in an hour." He says, hanging up the call.

You do as you were told. Sending him your location and the parking code.

Running to the bathroom to have a quick shower and get ready.

After that, you took a black legging, a white blouse with a little London eye on the side. You white sneakers. You add some blush and mascara, just to add something to your face.

You pack the basics and the clothes Tchaga told you to pack. Just to notice you were done in time. Tchaga texted you that he was in the basement waiting for you.

- Bondy - Later that day

Kylian was exhausted. He feels sad and tired. He feels like crying. But won't.

The room feels cold, barely any air. Of maybe it's just him having difficulty breathing. Maybe it's the last few, maybe it's the lost shot, maybe it's the team.

"Kyky"

Ethan was worried about him. He notices everything. How his brother has such prominent bags under his eyes and is losing a little weight.

How he chooses to sleep instead of doing the things he loves. How the whole "mbappe saga" destroyed a little his confidence.

"Want to tell me what's going on?"

Kylian scoffs, he can't believe that his little brother is the one worried and not the other way around.

"I'm supposed to be asking you that, Ethan."

"Well, if I'm worried about you, I'm going to ask and help.It's not like it's a crime being down."

"I just want this bad time to end."

"It will, don't worry, Ky, you're so strong."

He smiles, patting his brother on the shoulder. Ethan offers him a cookie. Knowing he likes them.

"Tchaga told me he was coming. He's probably about to be here." He sighs, not sure what else to do. "Let's play some fifa, I have the app on my phone."

He smiles, heartwarming with how much Ethan is doing to make him feel better. "If I win, you do the dishes."

"Deal."

While they got some distraction, you and Tchaga were stuck in traffic. You feel anxious. Maybe it was the drink you got at Starbucks, maybe the fact that after almost two years you and the man you love were reuniting.

"You need to stop with your leg, bébé." Tchaga says, putting his hand on your knee to stop it from moving. "The car is moving with you, and it's making me nauseous."

"Sorry, I'm just nervous."

"Okay, I want to know, let's get deep." He laughs, turning the car off and turning to you. "So you left after graduation, not blaming you tho, I would have done the same."

You smile at his rambling. You missed this so much. Maybe not the topic but the talk.

"The thing here is, you're back, but are you back for him? I know you came back to work. You just told me that."

"Get to the point." You laugh.

"My point is, don't rush me. We're not moving." He says sassy. "Are you taking him back? Are you sure you want to go back and take up every challenge you guys may face?"

You don't have to think your answer. You knew what you wanted way before stepping back into French territory.

"I wouldn't have come back if I wasn't sure that I wanted that."

-Bondy - 9:30 p.m. -

"Mom, I'm going back to the house, Tchaga is coming and Ethan is tired. Do you need anything else?"

"No, go and have a good sleep, baby."

He hugs his mom, kissing her cheek and leaving back to her house. Ethan and him walked over there. The night was calm.

"You know what I want?" Ethan asks.

"Yeah?"

"I want some chocolate with butter cookies." He says, caressing his tummy.

He nods, agreeing with how much a good chocolate and some good butter cookies will heal the day.

"Y/n used to make some amazing cookies. Never knew how to make them, but we can try doing them some other day."

Ethan was talking about other things, how he can't wait to see on the match against Netherlands.

When they got closer, he noticed the car of his friend. Tchaga went out, walking up to him and hugging him.

"Hey, Ethan, why don't you help me with something that's on the co-pilot side." He says with a smirk.

The teenager nods, not thinking about anything else walks to the door. He opens it, seeing you. He wanted to scream, but you shush him putting your finger over your lips.

"Hey, get inside, I will take care of this."

Both men nod to his words, walking inside while they talk, Tchaga was telling him about the crazy traffic and how a little trip turned into almost half a day one.

"What are you doing here?" He whispers while Tchaga walks into the house with his brother. "No that you aren't welcome but you surprise me."

"I wanted to make sure you guys are okay."

"Okay, sweet." He laughs, opening the door for you to get out. "I am, but I'm not if he is."

"I've been worried about him, his whole attitude, he not even being on the press conferences of les bleus."

"Yeah, my parents and I are worried. He won't open up to us." He sighs, tired of seeing his brother like this. "I just want him to go back to the happy Kylian."

"Hey, do you think you can give me some time alone with him? I want to talk."

"God, yes, let's go." He slams the door, grabbing your arm and practically running inside. "Stay here, I'm going to ask Tchaga to come see something so we can leave."

You nod, closing the door. He dissappear into the corridor. You open your bag to spray some mint scent into your mouth, take a small mirror to check that you look decent.

You hear two voices coming down. Tchaga and Ethan walked quickly to where you are. Excited about you and Kylian talking again.

"Okay, he's in the kitchen, go." Tchaga push you a little.

They both left the house. You stood there for a little while. Feeling the senses come back to you. You were about to meet up with him.

You walk slowly to the kitchen, hearing some music playing. You can't get cold feet right now. Not after spending hours in the car just to come see him.

His back is facing you. You run his whole figure with your eyes, smiling at the fact that you're matching without planning it.

You nock on the wood door that's at the entrance. He turns without looking, typing something on his phone.

"Hey E, I found a good recipe for those cookies."

"You can't bake even if your life depends on it." You laugh lightly.

He has to blink several times, scared this would be a fever dream and not you in front of him. With your rosey cheeks, you nice smile and the same shinning eyes he loves.

"I can write the recipe for you. That way, it's similar." You speak again. "But if you don't know how to use your oven the I don't think it will work."

He's still speechless, thing that worried you. He does the same thing you just did to him. Scan your whole figure.

"How?"

"I been on Paris for some time now." You confess, "I wanted to call you, I just felt so scared you weren't going to answer."

"Why wouldn't I?"

You shrug, not really feeling like explaining your insecurities to him. "Just, my mind playing games."

He wants to hug you, missing the feeling and warmth only you can give him. He wants to open his arms around you.

Fuck it, he thought.

Opening his arms while walking to you. You drop your bag to the floor, opening your arms to him.

The hug was like a band-aid. It was what your hearts needed. Like when you put something back together and it just fits so good you can't even see the damage.

"I miss you so much." He hides his face into your neck. Kissing it. "Please don't go, I can't take being away from you again."

You kissed his shoulder, feeling the moment you dreamed about it, the whole thing was better than your dreams.

"Can you look at me?"

He broke the hug, hands on your waist so you couldn't run. It's not like you're planning on doing it.

"If we're doing this again, I need you to really fucking trust me." You laugh, maybe out of nerves. "Babe, I would never be with you for your money. I am with you for your heart, for your soul, you're my fucking soul mate and I can't let you go. But if you fucking pull some shit like that I will make sure you are dead."

"I swear on everything I have, I swear on the kids we don't even have yet, that I won't pull nothing like that. Have all my money, have all my properties, what's mine is yours. I was stupid enough not to back you up, and that was the worst thing I ever did."

You shut him up with a kiss. The way his lips are just like you remember, as soft as before, as warm as before.

His hands on your back, pulling you as close as he can. While your hands are on his face. Not wanting to break the kiss.

When the air becomes a necessity, you both can't stop looking at your eyes. The eyes never lie. They tell our secrets. And if anybody sees the way your eyes look at each other, they will see heart shapes on them.

You hear someone clearing their throat. Making you both turn. "Well, hello, I didn't mean to interrupt. But I want to drop this off on the counter."

He let go of his hold, helping his mother with the box she had in her hands. "Oi, that smile was lost until today." She jokes. Making you blush. "Well, I'm going to sleep. Y/n, belle. This is your house. Make yourself conformable."

You nod, wishing her a good night. Once she's out of the kitchen view, you return to the arms of your love.

"By the way, please go to sleep, we have to get Kylian to training tomorrow."

Tou both laugh at her words. Not promising anything. Not after that long.

The game was good, Kylian just scored two goals. He was not only the captain but was the reason they won the game.

The crowd was crazy about it. people were sure he wasn't going scored the two goals that were sending them to the victory.

But oh boy, how wrong they were.

You walk with his mom and Ethan to the outside of the stadium. You were happy for him.

"You know, when he used to say you were his lucky charm, I was like, iugh disgusting. But I think you really are a lucky charm."

You laugh, hitting his arms. "I can go to your matches, maybe I can give you some of my luck."

"No need." Melissa interrupts, smirking. "He has his own lucky charm. Just a little shy to admit it."

"Oh shush." Ethan says, blushing like crazy.

Once you're on the basement of the stadium, where the private parking lot is. You all got into Kylians car.

"Hey, so you do like dudes with a car but without a license." E jokes, remembering the message you sent him.

"Careful kid," you warn jokingly. "You will be walking home if you keep with those unfunny jokes."

The whole trip was Ethan and Melossa fighting about something they saw on tik tok, making jokes about it and Fayza and you being confused.

When the time for Ky comes back home hits, Fayza, Ethan, and Melissa left. Letting him enjoy his night.

"Hey, handsome." You welcome him with a hug. "You did amazing, it was one of the best games you had this season."

"Another way of you telling me my club sucks."

"Shhh, just take the good part." You shush him with a kiss.

"Are we alone?"

You nod, kissing him again. You never had enough when you're with him. It was like a kiss with a candy. You love it and refuse to give in.

He picks you up, making his way upstairs. Almost falling, thing that made you laugh. It was like the beginning. And you loved new beginnings.

- Five months later -

"Ready?" You ask, putting on your seat belt.

He nods, he was feeling anxious about this decision, but you made him understand that it was a necessity.

During the little drive, he told you about some plans Luis has with the team as they were going to the last games of the Ligue 1.

"I never asked you this, but do you ever get free Uber eats?" You ask, confused. He plays for the Uber eats Ligue.

"Why would I get free Uber eats?"

"Uber eats Ligue 1"

"Bébé, just no."

You laugh at his expression, but you had to ask. It was something that had your curiosity.

You park outside the house, Kylian quickly exit the car and run to your side. He was a passenger princess, but he was a gentleman.

"Thanks, Mister Mbappe." You kiss his cheek, taking his hands on yours.

"You're welcome, Miss fiancé."

You knock on the door. You can't help but deep the hold on his hands. It was something that was necessary, you repeat in your head.

The door is open by a woman. She happily lets you inside, offering you something to drink.

"We're okay, thank you."

"He's in the garden. He's reading."

He leads the way to the garden, opening the door and letting you step outside first. The Parisienne air is cold. Good think there's some sun after the cold cloudy winter.

"Père."

Wilfrid smiles, leaving his book on the little table. He was excited about meeting you. He wanted as much as everybody a new beginning.

"Hey, you need to put on a jacket, is cold outside." He warns his son, hugging him. "Hey, Y/n."

"Hi, sir."

"Can I give you a hug?" He asks, hopeful that you will allow him to. "Aftet all, you will be my daughter in law."

You hug him, you left all the pain and resentment in the past, that was hurting you even more.

"Sit, please."

You loved the way his garden looks, wanting to stole some ideas for the new place. "I love the roses."

"They are looking good today. The sun is helping them to look good." He cuts one that's close to the table. Giving it to you. "Tell me. You guys came for a reason."

Kylian looks at you. He wanted you to be the one to talk. He nods his head once you look at him. A sign of support.

"I want to leave all in the past. We want to start a clean new beginning. And we want you on it. You're his father, and we're going to be family. So I. Well, we want you to be there for us."

"I want that, I know I have a long way to you, but please, now that my heart is full with good intentions."

"We know, père." Kylian says. "That's why we wanted to do this."

You feel out of breath. But at the same time, lighter, like taking something off your shoulders. Your life was taking a good turn.

You chatted with his father for a while, sharing some wedding details. Your plan was to have a wedding once the season finishes. So you can have a honeymoon and some free time with him.

You grab the hand of your fiance, the ring he gave you shining. You knew that even if it was hard, you needed to leave the past in the past. Just lean about it.

🪷🪷🪷

🏷: @slayweirdosaway @voguebikini @ironmaiden1313 @magicalfundragon @nightlockcornucopia @christianpulisic10 @bellinghambby22 @noodle81937 @moonlightholland22 @germanapples @paniwiaderko @megannandrewss @unstablefemme @suzysface @nightlockcornucopia @ama1a2 @topguncultleader @lunamelona

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romeosharpae · 4 months

Text

“NEVER CHANGING”

theodore nott x reader

last and final part of this series!!! another series is on the way but not sure when though... it's lowkey funny that i wrote that first post in 2022 and now it's 2024.. enjoy though!!

content warnings : cursing, mature language, explicit adult content, rough sex, make up sex, hate sex? (i don't know y'all theo's gone feral), kind-of toxic! theodore nott.

word count: somewhere in the 5k’s

let’s all be happy this part one took 2 months!!

parts : 1,2,3-

Some things just never changed, huh?

Your eyes searched around the crowded ball room and that sentence constantly replayed in your head. The entire thing was cliche, and humbly, you thought you were really above all of it. To avoid vomiting from annoyance, you bring the fleet of champagne in your hands up to your lips and take a long sip.

Standing aside you was boasting your mother and father. The ending of the war was a celebration for new beginnings! Or that's what your father declared in the multiple letter's that he wrote you. Though you knew that wasn't the actual reasoning behind your father's sudden urge to party; He had been trialed for being in cahoots with Voldemort.. and luckily, he was proven guilty. But the concept that you couldn't grasp was why your family wanted to celebrate with a party, it's not like the moment these people walked out of your childhood home that your mother wouldn't judge everything about them. Despite your disagreement of this you were unfortunately still in attendance, wearing an expensive black dress that nicely hugged your curves with your hair neatly pinned up.

Truthfully, if it hadn't been for your father's threat you wouldn't be here. You smiled when the twenty-seventh person approached your parents tonight and engaged in a meaningless conversation. Very rarely did any of the guest direct words towards you, and you really didn't even care because this was probably the last time you'd see most of them.

"Ah! Y/N, I almost didn't recognize you." The women spoke awkwardly, a fake smile slapped on her face. "How has things been going for you abroad?"

"Fine, Thanks for asking."

Before you even finished speaking the women turned back to your parents. About 3/4 into your sixth school year at Hogwarts you made the decision to go and study abroad, well, your parents knew that Hogwarts was in shambles and no longer wanted you there, so they sent you to Ilvermorny School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. You didn't put up much of a fight because you always wanted to travel the world, and on top of that there were things that you needed to detach yourself with at Hogwarts. So, for the past three years of your life, you've been living happily between Italy, France, and America. Ironically, your extremely rich father funded that and threatened to stop doing so if you didn't show up tonight.

So here you were, sipping through endless champagne as you were surrounded by stereotypical aristocratic purebloods. It reminded you of when you were still in school.. you hated it then and even more now.

"Excuse me, I need some air."

Your parents didn't pay much attention to your words, far to engaged in their conversation. You took another sip of your beverage as you stepped outside of the ballroom and onto the balcony. There was a part of you that missed England while there was another that didn't -- Your life was filled with so much diversity now. You traveled, met new people, ate new food, learned about cultures… everything! But you still missed your home,

Or at least that's what you tell yourself it is.

In your heart, although you were often belittled for your lack of "accomplishments" you absolutely loved traveling the world. But sometimes when you were lying in bed, staring at the celling in silence, you couldn't but to feel sometimes that there was a void that needed to be filled. It was almost like your mind and body feened for something that you couldn't actually make out.

"…Y/N?" The deepness of the voice almost has you thinking it's your father.

With a bull-crap apology sitting on the tip of your tongue you twisted your body to where the sound come from. To your surprise it wasn't your father here to scowl you… it was the last person you needed to see. Your apology swallowed back down, along with every insult you promised yourself to throw Theodore's way the next time you crossed paths. The familiar deep blue gaze and beautifully structured features had your stomach falling your feet. Were you seeing things? Or dreaming?

Why would your parents invite Theodore Nott to your home? They always wanted the two of you together and perhaps that's why they allowed him to take advantage of your naiveness for so long, but you expressed when they wrote you about him three years ago that you wanted zero involvements with the brunette.

Recalling how he emotionally drained you years ago have goosebumps spreading across your skin. Recalling your emotional breakdown in the common room that night makes you more uneasy. The only thing that comforted you was the promised that you made and kept so far, since that night in the common room Theodore Nott never had you again. Not as a lover, as a friend, as an acquaintance… nothing! For the first few weeks it was hard, you missed him because you loved him, but seeing the smugness on his face in the great hall that declared "she'll be back" kept you from going back. Then eventually you left, and your healing became much easier.

"Hi Theo." You softly greet. "You look Good."

You were telling the truth, the brunette looked extremely handsome tonight. His brunette hair was styled in a way that you never seen before but liked and the suit he wore was black. You couldn't help but to think that in a way, the two of you almost looked like you came to this party together.

The brunette pays your compliment no mind, eyes simply piercing into yours, and he wore an expression like maybe he thought he was seeing things or dreaming. The intensity behind his eyes has shivers rolling down your spine -- There was a moment in time when that would've turned you into puddy but now the effect wasn't that strong. Ironically, there was a moment in time when you never could've imagined not talking to Theodore for three minutes let alone three years.

"There you are, Y/N. Come back inside."

Your mothers voice rang through your ears. When you turn around, she's standing at the entrance of the balcony, shooting you a disappointed look. Her eyes than snapped to Theodore who was still staring at you, "What a pleasant surprise, Hello Theodore!"

Your mother wore a smile that lets you know that she purposefully invited the brunette against your wishes. You scoffed, underneath your breath and folded your arms over your chest. Theodore continued staring at you, distracting himself from what your mother was saying.

After taking the hint that Theodore probably wasn't in the right mind to give a response your mother stepped back into the party. There was something deep inside of you that didn't want to leave Theodore standing out here, it was telling you to talk to him. For closure? Or perhaps a better understanding? You didn't know. Eventually you followed behind your mother and stepped into the party, but you couldn't help but to look over your shoulder,

"It was nice seeing you" You cooed.

And before he got a chance to respond your lost in the herd of people.

The next time that encountered Theodore Nott was just as unexpected as the last. Your mother had convinced you to stay in town for a couple of days extra, you easily agreed. Being your mothers only child came with self-inflicted guilt growing, your father was always working, so aside from the house elf's (Which you didn't have any more thanks to Hermione Granger) your mother was at the house alone all of the time. So, when she asked you stay a few days after the party, even though your gut was telling you no, you did. Plus, you didn't really have anything to do for the next week anyways you really didn't mind.

You were walking into your favorite muggle bistro, inhaling the sweet smell of fresh baked goods. Pansy Parkinson and you always made stops here during the summer for the delicious Angel Cake and ever since you step foot in England you've been craving it. Luckily for you your mother had been at some book club for pureblood housewives this evening, so you were able to go without being criticized for eating from muggles.

You laugh to yourself as you remembered that the last time you came here three years ago. Theodore and you drank so many frapes that your stomach hurt from all of the sweetness. Merlin, although he was horrible to you it was the best when he was good. Remembering the good times for you were hard, mainly because you had to bombard your head with the bad ones to be able to fully get over your attachment to him.

The look that he gave you at the party played through your head like a broken record. You wondered; did he finally realize what he lost after all these years? Did he finally value you as much as you did him back then? It was far too late for all of that.

"Y/N? is that you?!" A voice chirped.

Looking over your eyes immediately lit up at the sight of the bistro's owner daughter. When you used to visit the shop, she'd always insert herself in you and Theodore's conversations, he found it irritating while you thought it was cute because she was so much younger. The small curly head girl ran to you, wrapping her arms around your waist as she embraced you.

"Hi, how have you been?"

"Good! Sit down, I'll go put your order in." The ten-year-old girl dragged you to sit down at the counter, "Same thing, right?"

You smiled, "You know it."

The little girl's hair bounced off her shoulders as she ran into the back, smiling ear to ear. You sat down on the stool, picking up a menu to see of they've put anything new that you'd like to try on there.

You didn't pay much attention as someone came and took a seat beside you, an empty stool between the too. The Frangrance that your nose caught a whiff has your heartbeat picking up… and you didn't understand why because your mind hadn't processed it at first.

"How can I help you?" The waitress asked.

"Can I get a slice of Angel Cake and then a medium Carmel Latte with extra whipped cream, please."

The order makes your ears perk up and finally draws your eyes away from the menu. Ironically enough, that was your same exact that you've been getting from this bistro since you discovered it at the age of twelve. You smiled, "Hey, that's my exact order t--,"

"--Theodore?"

His eyes flew to you the second he heard your voice. Why is Theodore ordering your order? He used to act like this place was the worse now he's coming here voluntarily to eat their food. His blue eyes pierced into yours, and for about two minutes the two of you just stared at each other. You hoped he wouldn't just stare at you like he'd done at the party… It made you nervous. You humorlessly chuckled, gesturing to him,

"I thought you didn't like it." You smiled.

"Yeah, I don't."

"Yeah, why are you buying it then?"

Theodore didn't give you an immediate answer and it makes your stomach twist. You'd spent three years getting over him, why were you so nervous now? The brunette cocked his head, rolling his tongue inside of his cheek before chuckling, his much more humorless than yours.

"Because when you came back, I wanted it to be a shortage of Angel cake, so you'd regret leaving."

"Nothing would make me regret leaving."

Coming back to a shortage of this bistro's Angel Cake probably make you flip out but not make you regret leaving. Truthfully, you don't think nothing would make you regret leaving your six years because deep down you know that had you stayed, Theodore would still be dragging you along like some dog.

He knew that to and perhaps that's why there's fury burning behind his eyes as he looked at you. Yeah, you left without saying anything to him, but it was laughable to you that Theodore wore an expression like you betrayed him by ripping his heart out and stomping on it. You couldn't understand why he didn't grasp the concept that he's the reasoning behind your split… you can't even say break up because you were never in a relationship.

"I've written you eight hundred and thirty-seven times."

"I know." You admit.

"You didn't write back."

"I had nothing to say to you, Theodore."

That was the God honest truth. All of the letters that Theodore had written you from the time you left to about three ago were stuffed in a kitchen cupboard in your flat along. It wasn't like you didn't want to read them, it's just that you knew that you couldn't read them for your own sanity.

Theodore wasn't as calm and collected as you were, he snaps, "And why is that?"

"I'm not going to argue with you." You shrugged. "We're too old for that now, don't you think?"

"Okay let's talk then, Y/N. Let's talk like two civilized adults."

"There's no point in that, Theodore."

A large smile spreads across your face when the young girl brought your desserts out. Following behind her was a different girl with the identical thing for Theodore who was now looking at you like you were talking nonsense. If looks could killed, you'd be lifeless on the floor from the way that Theodore eyes were staring at you. When the dessert was placed in front of you you wasted no time digging your fork into it and breaking off a piece.

"Yes, there is because my feelings for you are never changing, Y/N."

Theodore was trying so hard to get you to fold, but you weren't. It almost sounded believable, but luckily enough you know that Theodore loved to pillow talk and get you exactly where he wants you.

"Okay."

"You don't care anymore."

Theodore spoke the words in a way that lets you know that he wasn't asking you, he was saying it like it was a fact. Your nonchalant attitude was fueling his thinking of that and that brought you satisfaction. To say that your fully over the brunette would be 100% percent lying so you wouldn't say it. You missed him, you shouldn't, but you did.

"Yeah, because you never did." You argued.

"I always did."

You sighed, "I don't want to talk about this anymore Theodore."

"So, you just disappear for three years and now you wanna cry because I want answers, Y/N?--,"

You couldn't believe the words that had just left his mouth. He couldn't be serious right now… you were the villain for leaving? Unknowingly, you stood up to your feet, "Real typical of you to invalidate my feelings and prioritize yourself, Theodore! You want me to sit here and listen to your feelings like you literally didn't break my heart."

"You don't deserve answers."

"I'm sorry."

For the first time, those words sounded genuine leaving Theodores mouth. It almost makes you want to give in, feeling like you've finally proved your point by hurting him back... then you realized two words weren't enough. Two words couldn’t even compare to emotions that you felt when Theodore broke your heart three years ago... it wasn’t enough.

It wasn't enough to forget the fact that he practically used you for his own pleasure, disregarding the emotional attachment that you were beginning to develop.

"What can I do to make you forgive me?"

"Theo--"

"Y/N." He interrupts.

What could Theodore do to make you forgive him? Were you even in the proper mindset to forgive Theodore Nott for the troubles that he put you in? You we're sure, if you were, you're not sure that you wanted to forgive Theodore.

The way that Theodore and you were just staring at each other caused the body hair on your arms to stick up. It felt awfully weird seeing the same cold green gaze from three years ago be filled up with so many emotions now. You heaved out a deep sigh, eyes pulling away from his and onto your drink. You only look back when Theodore placed a hand on your leg, basically sending a shockwave through your body.

"One more chance, Y/N."

You blinked, "Do you even think that you deserve one more chance…?"

"No."

All you could do was hum in response to Theodore. At least the brunette was finally being truthful to you, well, that was the least that he could do after all of these years. You took a bite from your Angel Cake, no longer seeing the point in participating in this conversation with your ex-lover.

"I know that I don't deserve another chance Y/N… but--" Theodore shoots out. "Please."

"I was sixteen--"

"Yeah, so was I Theodore but I had enough common sense to string someone along for an entire year." You sighed, shaking your head. "What do you want from me Theodore? I just don't understand."

"I want you to let me show you that I've grown Y/N. Look, I know that I took you for granted and I'm sorry that it took you leaving for me to realize that I need to show that I cared--"

"I accept your apology Theodore, I do."

"You do?"

You were never really the one to hold grudges and Theodore was aware of that, so you didn't understand the shock behind his eyes. Of course, you didn't hate Theodore, no matter how hard you tried you just couldn't. Your mind would always flashback to Theodore's confessions to you, how broken he was and how that might be the reason he treated you the way he did. Back then that excuse made sense, now it was almost laughable; Theodore's trauma wasn't the reason he behaved so nonchalantly towards you, he did it because he wanted to and thought you would never stand against it.

"Of Course."

With that you stand to your feet, grabbing onto your frappe. You sent Theodore a small smile, mainly because you were leaving him to pay your bill, before walking out of the Bistro.

The week that you promised your mother that you spend with her went by in a flash. Hopefully by this time tomorrow you’d be inside of your Flat in Rome, laying on your couch and binge watching your favorite muggle series.

But at this time today you were standing in the corner of a crowded party, watching as Pansy Parkinson basically dry-humped Draco on the dance floor.

Pansy spent the entire day with you doing meaningless nostalgic stuff that the two of you did during your time at Hogwarts. You didn’t understand why she decided to hang out with you your last day but the answer came to you eventually when she mentioned a party being thrown tonight in honor of Blaise Zabini’s 20th birthday. She knew you were more likely to go had she been in your face pleading rather than her asking over the phone.

There were numerous of reason why you didn’t want to attend tonight’s party. For starters you knew there was a good chance you’d see people you attended Hogwarts with and they’d question you about your disappearance. That was a conversation that you’d rather avoid because you knew they already assumed it had everything to do with Theodore Nott. Secondly, you knew that this party would consume of nothing but Slytherin’s which you had nothing in common with but having wealthy pureblood supremacist parents. And your last reason was shamelessly staring right at you over the brim of their red cup.

You learned a long time ago that Wherever there was Blaise Zabini there was Theodore Nott not to far behind. So when Pansy mentioned the get together you automatically began spewing up excuses of not wanting to go that didn’t include the tall brunette. You were so determined on not going but there was apart of you that felt guilty; You just disappeared and now you were declining her offer to hang out because of your own selfish reasons.

And that’s you ended up here, standing in the corner watching as Draco and Pansy danced while being eyed like prey.

Theodore’s staring makes you nervous in undeniable ways… so nervous that you feel the sudden urge to use the bathroom. You almost felt pathetic, you weren’t sixteen years old anymore so why would you get so nervous over a look? Sighing softly you turned on your feet and made your way to the restroom. According to Pansy the party was being thrown in Blaise’s flat but you’d considered it more of a penthouse than flat. It peered over the beautiful city of London, giving you in sight of what was taking place on the streets.

It takes you about five minutes to handle your business inside of the lavatory. Before stepping out you fix yourself up, ensuring that you don’t look as nervous as you feel. When you pulled the door open, hands still damp from your wash a gasp left your lips at the unexpected figure standing in front of the door.

“Why are you following me?” You grumbled lowly.

“This is my home, Y/N. I’ll go anywhere I please without being questioned.” Theodore’s snappy tone makes your eyebrows shoot up in surprise.

“Whatever.”

You tried to move out of the bathroom but Theodore just stepped in front of you. Your body shifted in the other direction and he blocked you once again. With squinted eyes you stared up at him once again, “What do you want?”

Theodore took a step closer to you, reducing the space between the two of you until there was none left. For some reason you were stuck, not being able to take a step back to open the space again. Goosebumps rise across your skin, being this close to Theodore did something unexpected to your body. You were scared, knowing that despite your rejection of giving him another chance that you’d allow Theodore to take you on right here if he did the right thing.

“I miss you.”

You sighed deeply, “Theodore we don’t need to keep having this conversat--"

“But we do because you don’t believe me.”

It wasn’t that you didn’t believe that Theodore Nott missed you in the past three years.. it’s that you knew you shouldn’t believe that Theodore Nott missed you. You couldn’t understand what else the brunette could want from you, He’d taken your pride, dignity, and ability to want anyone else but him. And here he was standing with desire laced in his gaze.

“I’m sorry, Y/N.” Theodore gently said, taking your hand inside of his. “I’m so sorry.”

You shook your head and looked away, feeling the pace of your heart pick up immediately at his convincing words. Theodore quickly grabbed onto your face and turned you back to meet his low green eyes.

“Please Y/N?”

“You’re gonna hurt me again!” You shouted in an unfamiliar tone. “Why are you doing this? Why do you keep doing this?” Tears pricked in the corner of your eyes and your fingers tried to pry his hands off of you but he wouldn’t budge. “You’re so Selfish!”

Theodore had always been self when it comes down to you. Freaking out when you made other male friends, playing the hot and cold game, But this right here was another degree of selfishness coming from him—Theodore knew that he hurt you horribly and that you’ve spent the past three years trying to get over from that hurt. So for him to come after realizing that he could not in fact find someone better than you.. it was selfish.

“I know.” He admits.

A single tear slipped from your eyes, recalling the pain from everything that Theodore had put you through and the fact that you still loved him. It hurts your mind, your body, and your soul. Theodore’s quick in swiping the tear away from the skin of your cheek, you found it funny that after all of these years he was still able to wipe away the tears that he caused. Suddenly, He shushed your quiet cries by pressing his soft lips against yours.

And Your heart nearly jumped out of your chest at the taste of the brunette back on your lips. While your mind was telling you to push him away, telling you to stop him, but the way that he kissed you made your body crave otherwise.

Perhaps that’s why you’re eagerly wrapped your legs around his waist when he reached underneath your knees to pick you up. You gasped when his hard erection pressed against his lower half and with your mouth opened Theodore takes his chance to slide his entire tongue inside of your mouth.

The two of you continued your sloppy make out session as he carried you inside of his bedroom. After this all of your built up self-respect from the past three might as well go down the drain and truthfully you’re not sure that you cared. Your legs felt weak from arousal when Theodore sat down on his bed with you straddling him.

You gasped from pleasure when his mouth trailed down your neck. Theodore’s kisses were filled with desperation and you could tell how much he wanted you. While one of his hand he lifted your hips up and the other flys to the button of his pants. Sometimes you got annoyed with Theodore’s lack of foreplay during the heat of the moment.. but right now all you wanted was for him to be inside of you.

Need filled your stomach to the brim while your hands yanked your dress up and pulling your underwear to the side. Drool nearly slipped past your lips when you caught glimpse of Theodore’s freed thick cock, precum leaking from the tip.

His lips caught yours in a kiss again, a moan slipped past your lips when he begins rubbing the tip of himself against you a few time, collecting your wetness.

Before you could brace yourself he was pushing the head of himself inside, the familiar stretch has your body burning and your legs practically spasming.

“Stay still, Y/L/N” Theodore groaned.

Although you wanted to listened to him you just couldn’t. Truthfully, you hooked with a couple of euro boys but they didn’t even half-compare to Theodore Nott. The pleasure spreading across your body has your head spinning.

“Goodness, I’ve missed you so much.” Theodore grunted huskily. “Ugh--I hate it when you keep this away from me.” The pace of him thrusting into you picked up and the sharp pain of his fingernails digging into your skin as he kept your waist in place wasn’t even noticeable,

You’ve missed this so much.

Your fingers slide up from Theodore’s frame, you placed your hands around his face and he shuddered. An unexpected vulnerability filled his eyes while he moaned that almost caused you to close yours. You were token aback by it, your walls fluttering around him.

“I won’t hurt you again.”

“Theodore… Please--,” You gasped, barely catching your breath to speak to him. “--Don’t.”

You couldn’t handle hearing Theodore’s pillow-talk right now. Him lying about going to be better was something you couldn’t handle..Something that this intimate moment couldn’t handle. Your eyes fell close when he pulled you in for another wet open-mouthed kiss.

“Don’t what?” He hummed.

Theodore ran his hand through your hair. You couldn’t form a response, truthfully you’d forgotten that the brunette even asked you something. But clearly that didn’t please him because Theodore suddenly rolled the two of you over. Your body was now pinned underneath him, completely vulnerable to whatever strokes he wanted to give you.

And clearly they weren’t nice ones…

Suddenly, there was a change in Theodore’s thrusting. It was rougher, animalistic almost. You weakly pushed against his stomach, small whimpers leaving your lips at every hateful thrust he gave you.

“Look at me,” He growled, grabbing onto your neck and forcing you to look at him. The way that Theodore drives himself into you has your eyes watering, tears streaming down your face, so he was a bit blurry. “Don’t do what?”

The hard squeeze that he gives your throat has you spiraling. You hiccuped, eyes rolling in the back of your head, toes flexing as you came.

“Yeah, Just like that.” Theodore begins guiding you through your orgasm, thrust becoming deeper yet still rough.

“--Theo,” You panted his name.

“Yeah, Theo.” He mocked you. “That’s who’s fucking You.”

Despite you being stuck underneath him, you squirmed at his tone. You already sensed the possessive words he’s about to spew and you’re sure it would send you cumming once again.

“That’s who’s always gonna fuck you, Y/N. Me.” He practically growled in your face, forcing you to keep eye contact with him.

“You don’t wanna hear that I’m sorry? I don’t care because you need to, I’m sorry that it took me this long to realize it but I do love you.”

You moaned but it was overpowered by the sound of Theodore moaning in your ears. Overstimulation filled your body as Theodore finally came undone, spilling his cum inside of you. Your fingernails dig deep into his back while he snapped his hips at yours, drilling his release deep inside of you.

With a grunt, Theodore smashed his mouth against yours in a sensual kiss. He mummers against your mouth, “I’m gonna change, I promise.”

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