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thecrystalquill · 1 year

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Can you make oliver wood x slytherin reader

My requests aren’t open but you’re lucky you caught me needing to get out of a creative slump and this request was vague enough to spark something.

Enjoy my first Oliver Wood one-shot my wee fellow snakes

Check out my Masterlist for more

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Sweet Surprises

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He’d wanted to hate her. Truly he did. He’d wanted to hate everything from the way she walked to the curve of her smile; the way she talked to people, the kindness in her eyes, the laugh that made his heart flutter; he’d wanted especially to hate the green robes she dawned as she flew about the pitch, but they suited her too well.

So he didn’t hate her. Not even in the slightest. Not even when she looked him straight in the eyes after every goal she launched past him, smiling that smile that had him weak in the knees, resisting the urge to apologise for ever being in her way.

There were probably dozens of reasons why the rivalry between Gryffindor and Slytherin was so strong, but Quidditch must have accounted for a good chunk of it. It was no secret that Slytherin’s team often played dirty, but other than the odd sneaky trick, Oliver knew he didn’t have to worry about that with (Y/N). And the argument she put up with her Captain over foul play was impressive; the power and authority in her voice never ceased to amaze him - if the system wasn’t rigged in favour of the rich and pure, he had no doubt that she would be their Captain, and Merlin would she do it well.

People thought they were so opposite, and on the outside it did seem like it. But their differences put aside, they were so similar, so alike, that something like an age old house rivalry seemed so unimportant the second they became friends.

Were they friends? Neither of them had ever said it but he liked to think so. When they first met, Oliver had thought it impossible. But when she’d come over after their first match in third year, her first time playing against Gryffindor, she proved otherwise. He remembers expecting her to be a sore loser, like many were, to say something insulting and standoffish. She surprised him. Congratulating his win, asking about his skill, making conversation. She continues to surprise him.

Now they were getting close to the end of their last year at Hogwarts, homework and studying took over most of their time, and Quidditch took the rest. But they found time for each other. He would help her with Transfiguration, she would help with his Herbology work, study sessions that lasted hours because they couldn’t focus on the work before them, and not to mention how she was the only reason he was passing his potions practicals.

“Are you listening?”

Blinking, Oliver turned his head to her. Her. Sat beside him in the muggle clothes her father sent, Astronomy book sat on her jean-clad lap, thigh just barely brushing his, and the bright red and white shoes she said were ‘knock-off converse’ (whatever that meant); he liked that she wasn’t unwilling to wear red, maybe she liked the rebellion and the look her peers gave her, he liked to think it was because it was his colour.

Clearing his throat, Oliver shifted his weight on the grass. “Sorry,” he began, trying not to think too hard on how beautiful she looked in the noon sunlight, “lost in thought.”

(Y/N) smiled at him, and he was glad to already be sitting down. “What about?”

Of course, he wasn’t just going to say ‘I was just thinking about how we met and how lovely you are and how you look sitting here with me in the sun looking like a literal angel and you’re my favourite person and I’m completely in love with you’. That might have saved far too much trouble. So instead he rubbed his neck and said the next thing that had been on his mind. “I don’t want this to end.” The furrow of her brow had his heart leap into his throat. Rewind. Backup. “I-I mean -er… things’re just good now, y’know? But we’re graduating soon and then what? I’ve been scouted by Puddlemere United, you got a letter about trying for Montrose Magpies which I know are your favourite and you’re gonna do amazing. Everything’s gonna change and I don’t know if I’m ready for it.” It was a topic that had been weighing on him for months, if not all year.

Uncrossing her legs, (Y/N) closed her book and turned on her side, propping herself up with one arm and sitting up to face him properly. “You’re right.” She said, and Oliver wanted to point out how those words had literally never passed her lips before, until she sent him a look as if she could read his mind. “Things are gonna change, but they’re gonna change for the better.”

“How do you know?” He asked, looking into her eyes like he was studying every shade and colour in her irises.

The corner of her lips quirked upward, trying not to smile at the remarkable comparison of his expression to that of a sad puppy. “I just do. When am I ever wrong?” He raised a brow and she immediately shook her head at him and waved a hand. “Y’know what, no, don’t answer that.” She laughed and rolled her eyes at the snicker she drew from him. Placing her hand on his, she gave him the most reassuring look she had. “But I know I’m right about this. Things are gonna change but they’re gonna get so good, Ol.”

In a moment of boldness, Oliver turned his palm up to hold her hand in his, savouring how they fit perfectly together, the softness of her fingers wrapped around his. “But what if…” he hesitated, rubbing his thumb on her hand to calm his nerves, the mere thought of what he wanted to say setting heavy on his heart, “what if we don’t see each other… what if we grow apart?”

But, as mentioned before, she never ceased to surprise him. Instead of the comforting words he’d expected, he felt a soft whack on the back of his head. “What’re you doing putting thoughts like that out into the universe? Are you mad?” She said, scolding him in that playfully serious tone she used to torment the younger teammates. Changing her position, (Y/N) faced him fully and took both of his hands in hers, squeezing them tight to make sure he was paying attention. “You and I, we’re our own team, okay? If anything we’re gonna grow closer. We’ll see each other all the time, we’ll make sure. Who else is gonna put up with me?”

Not that he ever had to simply ‘put up’ with her. Godric, he’d listen to every rant and every digression if it meant he could spend all his time with her. “And if we get too busy? You in Montrose and me in Pudlemere, we wouldn’t exactly run into each other.”

(Y/N) sat back on her knees, thinking for a minute, and he felt like he was waiting for the blade to drop. Then she smiled again, and her eyes lit up like she’d won the Quidditch Cup. “Then we move in together.”

She said it so matter-of-factly, like it were just a simple solution and not a sentence that made his entire head swim. Surely she didn’t just say that. Surely he’d just misheard. “What?”

“Well think about it.” She said, grinning in excitement. “With two incomes we can get a nice apartment and not have to worry too much about spending, we can Floo to work, we’ll see each other everyday - not to mention I’d feel better if I wasn’t living alone. It’s perfect!”

That’s it - he was sure he was going to pass out. “I- y- r-really?” Oliver stuttered out, feeling his face starting to flush and trying to fight it. She waited for him to get his head around it, sat as close to him as she could in this position, still holding his hands tight in hers, smiling that smile that took his breath away. What other answer was there? “Okay.”

As soon as the word passed his lips, (Y/N) threw herself at him, wrapping her arms around his neck in an excited embrace. She was ranting on in elation, spewing words over his shoulder on the new topic, but Oliver was no longer listening, feeling like time moved slower; closing his eyes, he held her right to him and savoured her warmth, the feeling of her body wrapped around his, his arms around her waist. Whatever she was saying, it didn’t matter - she could be talking about painting the whole apartment bright pink and turquoise and he’d be okay with it - as long as she was there, hugging him like this. His mind started to calculate ways to get her to hug him like this all the time: bringing home flowers to surprise her, baking a cake when she gets her job, buying her the perfect gift for her birthday - as long as she hugged him like this. Maybe eventually it might become a habit. An embrace that conveyed every comfort; and then he knew she was right - with her, everything would be fine.

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What do you think?? Leave a comment:D

#oliver wood #oliver wood x reader #harry potter x reader #harry potter golden era x reader #harry potter golden era #x slytherin!reader #Oliver wood x Slytherin!reader #harry potter x slytherin!reader #griffindor x slytherin #x reader #x y/n #golden era x reader

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myjealouseyes · 4 months

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‘Tis The Damn Season.

Part one. HJP x wolfstar!daughter

No content warnings. Pining and a little angst.

A/N- hello! This is part one of a multi-part oneshot series based on ‘Tis the damn season by Taylor Swift. (It’s supposed to be two parts but who knows lol.) there aren’t a lot of lyric references in this part, but the next part will have plenty to make up for it I promise! Hope you enjoy!

You find that the sunset always looks best from the roof. It looks as if someone has painted the sky with precise brush strokes of orange and red that blend seamlessly. Though it’s hard to focus on that when you’re holding Harry’s hand. The way his fingers are interlaced with yours is warm, comforting, and familiar. You couldn’t fathom not being able to have this feeling at your fingertips anymore, but you’d have to make do without it soon. And crazily enough, it was completely your choice.

Your plane leaves tomorrow. You were off to study music at your dream college, just like you’d always dreamt about. Harry would catch his flight the next week, to study acting and film. At a separate College, miles away from yours. You two had been avoiding the conversation since you got your acceptance letters, ironically on the same day. You both had been so caught up in the overall joy of the moment, that you didn’t think about the separation. The bomb dropped on both of you a week later, but neither of you dared to break the bliss of the moment.

Now, here you were. On Harry’s roof watching the sunset with him. It’d be the last time for a while. Harry squeezes your hand but neither of you looks away from the sky. Even as something draws you closer and your head ends up on his shoulder you can’t look at him. A part of you thinks you should say something, reassure him and yourself that’d it be okay, but another part of you isn’t so sure you will be. You’d never been without Harry before. You’ve been attached by the hip since you could walk. He’s been the person you cried to when you were sad, the person you ranted to when you were angry, and the person who made you laugh throughout all of it. Harry knew you, and you knew him too.

“We’ll call and text. We’ll talk every day and nothing will change.” Harry says suddenly. He says it like a promise, and you find it in yourself to relax a little. Harry has never broken a promise to you. You knew that wouldn’t change just because you weren’t going to be attending school at the same place. “Nothing,” you promise back. “It’ll be just like it is now, only we’ll be a little farther apart.” Harry smiles, turning his head in your direction to kiss your cheek tenderly. Blood rushes to your face immediately, but you still look back at him. His smile is softer than usual, there’s no hidden trace of mischief or even a hint of trouble. You can’t remember a time he’s smiled at you like that before. “That’s the spirit. We’ll be back together before we know it.”

Nightfall sneaks up on you faster than it usually does. As you both climb down from the roof you catch yourself looking at Harry again. Suddenly you can’t tear your eyes away. it’s like gravity is drawing you toward his eyes, his hands, his lips, him. Your heart speeds up drastically. It’s all a little too much for you. You leaving tomorrow, the distance between your college and your home, and realizing the fact that you might like—no, love your best friend. That makes leaving feel a thousand times harder than it did originally.

Harry is smiling at you from his doorstep, his same trouble-free smile that set you off in the first place. Your heart is jumping out of your chest and screaming at you to tell him how you feel, but you can’t put that on Harry. Not when you leave tomorrow. When your heart slows down enough, you press a soft kiss on his cheek. It lasts longer than it should, but neither of you complain. When your lips leave his skin you walk across the street to your house. If you had turned around for a second look, you would have seen the way Harry’s face heated up as his eyes followed you across the road.

The next day you board your plane and the long flight passes you slowly. You spend the time napping and looking out the window at the clouds. When you land, the sun is setting. It’s duller than the ones you watched back home. Not quite as beautiful as it is from Harry’s roof, but you look anyway. For a split second, you wonder if it looks that way because you weren’t holding Harry’s hand.

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untilnextchapter · 7 months

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Monthly Fanfictions Recommandation: October'23

Here are my best discoveries from the last weeks:

🍬 The Authors

@astonishment : First thing first, I love this Author so much. Mal is so sweet and always there to answer to Anon and followers. If you have any question or thought, don't hesitate to tell. About the stories, you will love them. Even if all stories aren't my thing (I love your writing sweetie but Time Turner is really not my thing), You're Losing Me is a masterpiece, like really. I can't stop reading it and your style is just so sweet and fluid. It's always a pleasure to read from you. Keep on the hard work, and really don't hesitate to check this amazing Human Being.

@astrophileous : You're looking for a great and unique Criminal Minds writer? I think you would enjoy Zara. She's so sweet and adorable. And her story Love Bugs is so sweet. It's pretty rare to find good Derek Morgan stories, and even more series. Gosh I love you and your writing style so much. And you're always so quick to reply and tag your fans.

@secretswiftymarvelfan : Okay, so I discovered I'm just so weak for Chris Evans and his characters (as I'm writing this I'm watching "Knives Out", again). And with this blog and author, my thirst is satisfied. I haven't read all your works, there're so much of them (bless you). Your style is pure and it's always a pleasure to read anything from you. You write with your heart and thank you for sharing it with us!

@once-upon-an-imagine : Ooookay, here we are. As we do say in French, c'est mon petit bonbon! My new comfort blog and author. I love them. I could spend hours to read Harry Potter stories, I won't be able to share all my favourite because I loved every single one I read. It's just perfect, one shots like series. I wish I could have more breaks to read more from them. If you love Harry Potter, Marauders Era like Golden Era, you won't be disappointed I promise you! Thank you for sharing you stories with us, it's always a pleasure!

@pagesoflauren : Lauren is a wonderful author. Hear me out, her writing is flawless and her ideas are really original. I could spend hours on this blog too. Another wonderful temple of Chris Evans characters. I won't say a lot, just go and check her amazing works and tell her how brillant she is. Like really.

@supernatural-jackles : My Supernatural daily dose~ My lastest Supernatural discovery and I wasn't disappointed. Much more stories for Dean but the Sam ones were cute too. I melt with "Fake Yours". My God. It was perfect. Like really. And mostly, if you just want a little Dean one shot, just go check Jen's masterlist, you will have a good time.

🍭 The Stories

* = Smut (Minors DNI) || 🦋 = Series || Beware of the TW please

You’re Losing Me 🦋 || @astonishment (J𝖺𝗆𝖾𝗌 P𝗈𝗍𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝗑 R𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋, R𝖾𝗆𝗎𝗌 L𝗎𝗉𝗂𝗇 𝗑 R𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋, Hanahaki AU, 𝖸𝗈𝗎 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖩𝖺𝗆𝖾𝗌 𝖯𝗈𝗍𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝗁𝖺𝗏𝖾 𝖺 𝖿𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗇𝖽𝗌𝗁𝗂𝗉 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗇𝗈 𝗈𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋, ��𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗆𝗈𝗌𝗍 𝗎𝗇𝖻𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗄𝖺𝖻𝗅𝖾 𝖻𝗈𝗇𝖽…𝗈𝗋 𝗌𝗈 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗒𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁𝗍. 𝖶𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗀𝖾𝗍 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖺𝗁𝖺𝗄𝗂, 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗋𝗍 𝗉𝗎𝗅𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝗐𝖺𝗒 𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗆 𝖩𝖺𝗆𝖾𝗌 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗇𝗈 𝗆𝖺𝗍𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝗁𝗈𝗐 𝗁𝖺𝗋𝖽 𝗁𝖾 𝗍𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗌, 𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝖺𝗇’𝗍 𝗌𝖾𝖾𝗆 𝗍𝗈 𝖽𝗈 𝖺𝗇𝗒𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗋𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍. 𝖶𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖿𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗇𝖽𝗌𝗁𝗂𝗉 𝖻𝖾𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗉𝗎𝗍 𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗎𝗅𝗍𝗂𝗆𝖺𝗍𝖾 𝗍𝖾𝗌𝗍, 𝗐𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖿𝗂𝗇𝖽 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗐𝖺𝗒 𝖻𝖺𝖼𝗄 𝗍𝗈 𝖾𝖺𝖼𝗁 𝗈𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋? 𝖮𝗋 𝗐𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝖩𝖺𝗆𝖾𝗌 𝗅𝗈𝗌𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗀𝗈𝗈𝖽?)

Why Didn’t We Work Out? || @/astonishment (James Potter x Reader, 𝘑𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘴 𝘗𝘰𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘵𝘸𝘰 𝘨𝘪𝘳𝘭𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘩 𝘺𝘦𝘢𝘳 𝘢𝘵 𝘏𝘰𝘨𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘴. 𝘠/𝘕 𝘠/𝘓/𝘕, 𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘧𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘩𝘴; 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘓𝘪𝘭𝘺 𝘌𝘷𝘢𝘯𝘴, 𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘥𝘴. 𝘞𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘩𝘦’𝘴 𝘥𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘦𝘹𝘦𝘴, 𝘨𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝘸𝘩𝘰’𝘴 𝘯𝘶𝘮𝘣𝘦𝘳 𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘪𝘢𝘭𝘴…)

At Arms Length 🦋 || @/astonishment (Remus Lupin x Reader, 𝖸𝗈𝗎 𝗇𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎’𝖽 𝖿𝗂𝗇𝖽 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋𝗌𝖾𝗅𝖿 𝗆𝖺𝗋𝗋𝗂𝖾𝖽 𝖺𝗍 𝖾𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍𝖾𝖾𝗇, 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎’𝗋𝖾 𝖽𝖾𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗆𝗂𝗇𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝗆𝖺𝗄𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖻𝖾𝗌𝗍 𝗈𝖿 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗂𝗍𝗎𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇. 𝖸𝗈𝗎 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝗁𝗈𝗉𝖾 𝖱𝖾𝗆𝗎𝗌 𝖼𝖺𝗇 𝖿𝗂𝗇𝖽 𝖺 𝗐𝖺𝗒 𝗍𝗈 𝗅𝖾𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗂𝗇. 𝖠𝖿𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝖺𝗅𝗅, 𝖿𝗈𝗋𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋’𝗌 𝖺 𝗅𝗈𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗂𝗆𝖾 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗁𝗎𝗌𝖻𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗄𝖾𝖾𝗉𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖺𝗍 𝖺𝗋𝗆𝗌 𝗅𝖾𝗇𝗀𝗍𝗁.)

Love Bugs * 🦋 || @astrophileous (Derek Morgan x Reader, You and Derek Morgan have an arrangement. At work, your relationship is strictly business. Under the sheets, it's all about pleasure. Nothing more, nothing less. Until, of course, your feelings start to get involved. Your situation is complicated enough without the unexpexted predicament that suddenly befalls upon you. But with a maniac serial killer on the loose, will you ever get the chance to make everything right?)

Best Friend’s Brother * 🦋 || @secretswiftymarvelfan (Chris Evans x Reader, You and Scott have been best friends ever since you were 10, meeting at summer camp. Being best friends with Scott means you know his family very well, especially his older brother. After a failed attempt at dating Chris when you were 18, when you move to LA for a job will you and Chris grow close again. What would the world think? and most importantly what would Scott think?)

evermore 🦋 || @/secretswiftymarvelfan (Steve Rogers x Reader, Stuck in a marriage that seems to have dried what happens when you meet a down to earth painter at a party. Will you allow yourself to fall in love even though your heart is promised to another?)

Memory Served * 🦋 || @/secretswiftymarvelfan (Ransom Drysdale x Reader, Following a terrible accident, every memory you ever made was gone leaving you to try to piece together what happened) (Val's note: beware the TW for this one, really well written but ask Niamh if you have any question)

Dear Prudence || @once-upon-an-imagine (Remus Lupin x Potter!Reader, You have always lived in your brother’s shadow. You have never really minded but Remus does. So he always does whatever he can to show you that to him, you will always be number one.)

Some Kind Of Wonderful || @/once-upon-an-imagine (James Potter x Reader, You and James have been friends since you were born. Over the years, the friendship grew to love on your side. However, you know that he only has his eyes and heart set on someone else; Lily Evans.)

What Was I Made For? || @/once-upon-an-imagine (James Potter x Black!Reader, Growing up in your home as a Hufflepuff was even worse than when your older brother was placed in Gryffindor, making your parents not even acknowledge your existence anymore. Or your birthday. So, when James promised to change that, you try to not get your hopes up because you knew he would also forget it. And he does)

Hanging By A Moment 🦋 || @/once-upon-an-imagine (Charlie Weasley x Reader, Your best friend Percy convinces you to go home with him for the holidays and asks you to pretend to be his girlfriend since he’s not out to his family. You accept, wanting to help your friend and thinking it shouldn’t be hard, right? That is until you meet his very much attractive, older brother, Charlie)

Thank You For Loving Me || @/once-upon-an-imagine (Spencer Reid, There were three little words that you and Spencer had yet to say. For five months, the two of you still hadn’t found the right moment to say it. And now, Spencer fears it might be too late)

Ride & Prejudice * 🦋 || @pagesoflauren (Steve Rogers x Reader Cowboy AU, A take on Pride & Prejudice, certain circumstances in your life have led you to take refuge and work in a farm village, particularly on the ranch owned by Steve Rogers. He doesn’t take kindly to you, having bad perceptions about city folk. Your only reaction to that is the one you deem acceptable: get annoyed at every little thing he does whilst doing your best to annoy him and still keep your job)

The Highest Bidder * 🦋 || @/pagesoflauren (Ransom Drysdale x Reader, A graduate-level education is a costly pursuit. When you move out of state to study in Boston, expenses pile up, leading you to auction off what is apparently your most valuable asset: your virginity. It goes to the highest bidder…who happens to be Ransom Drysdale)

Fake Yours * 🦋 || @supernatural-jackles (Dean Winchester x Reader AU, Your brother is getting married to one of your best friends, and you’re the maid of honour. Your horrible mother is on your case about showing up with a date, as you ex, the best man, has moved on. Your only option is to beg the stranger who took you home, to pretend to be your boyfriend until the wedding is over. How much pretending did you really have to do to convince them all it was real?)

Wrong Number * 🦋 || @/supernatural-jackles (Dean Winchester x Reader, Taking a break from studying, your best friend Jess and her boyfriend Sam give you the number the bartender left for you. You decide to take a chance and give them a call, not expecting who’s number it is)

She’s Quiet and I Love It || @/supernatural-jackles (Sam Winchester x Reader, Sam falls for the quiet reader, she helps patch him up and she finally speaks)

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of-many-fandomss · 1 year

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Request Rules:

Will not write:

-NSFW material

- Male!reader (sorry)

- Parings with non- x reader

I will write:

- x reader

- Romantic Pairings

- Platonic (familial, friendship, etc.) Pairings

- Female!reader

- GN!reader

- AU’s

Fandoms and characters:

- Bullet Train

• Ladybug

• Tangerine

- Supernatural

• Sam Winchester

• Dean Winchester

- Avengers

• Bucky Barnes

• (Tasm) Peter Parker

• Pietro Maximoff

• Matt Murdock

• Shang-Chi

• Loki

• Kraven the Hunter

- Golden Era

• Cedric Diggory

• Harry Potter

- Marauders Era

• Remus Lupin

• Sirius Black

• James Potter

• Regulus Black

- Top Gun

• Rooster

• Hangman

• Iceman

- Outer Banks

• JJ Maybank

• Rafe Cameron

- Star Wars

• Poe Dameron

• Din Djarin

- The Walking Dead

• Daryl Dixon

- The Boys

• Soldier Boy

#requests #supernatural x reader #bullet train x reader #avengers x reader #marauders x reader #top gun x reader #outer banks x reader #golden era x reader #star wars x reader #the walking dead x reader #rafe cameron x reader #loki x reader

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msvanillalatte · 4 months

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This One or That One

NSFW. MDNI

SUMMARY: Just smut.

WARNINGS: Mattheo Riddle x fem!Reader. Piv, no protection (wrap it b4 you tap it), breeding kink, praise kink, rough sex, dirty talking, teasing, aftercare (implied, not written), a bit of overstimulation.

Let me know if i missed any, please!

SMUT UNDER THE CUT!

"M-Mattheo, slow d- down!" You cried as Mattheo Riddle thrusted his hips into you at full speed. He was desperate. Desperate to be inside you.

"I think you can take it. Fuck... You are tight." Groaned Mattheo as he chased his high. He was relentless, fucking you like an animal, making you roll your eyes to the back of your head as he grabbed your neck and made you look at him.

"Eyes on me, pretty. Look so good around my cock, am I fucking you dumb, angel?" Mattheo said as he pounded into you without mercy. Everything about him was intoxicating, he had you wrapped around his finger. Your mouth opened and smiled, as a bit of drool fell out of it.

You were close, and Mattheo sensed it. The way your walls clenched about his dick and your high pitched moans flew out of you mouth made him crazy. For him, you were the most beautiful girl to ever exist, looks, personality, cunt. Everything was perfect with you, especially the sex part. How you looked at him with hooded eyes and that fucked-dumb smile made him harder, if that was even possible.

"Oh- OH MY GOD!" You moaned in ecstasy as his mushy tip hit your sweet spot repeatedly. Mattheo was big, and even after having sex almost every day, it always felt new, like the first time.

"Yeah, feels good, huh? Do you like this spot or that one better?" Mattheo chuckled as he thrusted in your G-spot and cervix alternately. Your sight went white and you cried one last time as you let the pleasure consume you. He was good, really good. Your orgasm hit you like a truck, tightening around Mattheo and scratching his back until it bled. Your moans were loud and your back arched till it couldn't anymore. Mattheo kept thrusting, going even deeper, if that was possible. It felt overwhealming, but you were too fucked-out to even care. Your eyes closed as you kept moaning at the stimulation.

"So tight and warm. Want me to cum inside you, aye? Want me to fill you up, honey?" Mattheo said as he started kissing and biting your neck. He was close and you could feel by how his cock throbbed inside you.

"Inside me, please! Want to be filled by you, Matt!" You whimpered at the overstimulation. "Atta girl." Was all Mattheo said before coming inside you, painting all of your walls white. He panted and kept pounding for a bit so that none of his load would spill out of you.

He slowly pulled out of you, making you cry at the emptiness. "You did so good, princess, so so good."

You blushed at Mattheos praise, and waited for him to help you get to the shower, as he always did.

Hoped you liked this one. First time writing Mattheo Riddle.

468 words.

SORRY IF I MADE ANY GRAMMAR MISTAKES, ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE

Sorry if the ending is a bit rushed :)

-MsVanillaLatte

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suugarbabe · 8 months

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Unexpected | m.r x reader

prompt: Hii! How are you? This is my first time sending an ask and I just wanted to say that I love your writings! May I ask for a enemies to lovers with Mattheo Riddle? The reader is from the golden trio and they get into an argument with a lot of chemistry and tension. Thank you and I'm sorry for my bad english.

maybe enemies to lovers, like they hate each other and then realize that they are soulmates and then have to figure out what to do. some angst but ends i fluff please

word count: ~3.8k

warnings: slight angst feeling, fluff, e2l, soulmate trope, some heavy petting

an: so there's no argument like the prompt asks (sorry) but when I started writing it just kind of flowed out this way so hopefully it's still okay.

“Go on, show us again,” Ron Weasley was shaking a turkey leg in your general direction, asking to see the words that appeared on your arm this morning. In the wizarding world, on the day you were going to properly meet your soulmate, the first sentence they speak to you, excluding their name, will appear on your forearm in their handwriting.

It was incredibly annoying to you that Ron and Hermione got this mess out of the way the first day on the bloody train. To your and Harry’s amusement, neither were originally excited about the match, but after the chaos that ensued for the four of you by the end of that year they were inseparable. Nothing brings two people closer than tragedy.

Things got even more frustrating for you when Harry and Ginny realized they were soulmates, leaving you the lone wolf in your foursome. Entering your sixth year this year you were hopeful that maybe you would finally be able to find out who your soulmate was, roughly three fourths of those leave Hogwarts knowing who they’re intended to be with, and you would rather Avada Kadavera yourself then leave your seventh year soulmateless.

You grabbed the sleeve of your jumper, tugging it up to your elbow, sticking your arm out in the middle of the table for your three friends to view. There on your arm read a singular sentence, do I intimidate you, love?

Hermione sat back on the bench, “His handwriting really is awful, whoever he is.” You scoffed at your friend, “Not exactly my biggest concern, Mione. More worried about why he thinks he would intimidate me? Who would even think that? By this point in our school life you’d think any of us were more intimidating than the majority of the student body.”

“Yeah, except Slytherin,” Harry snorted, Ron following with his own round of laughter. But you weren’t laughing, you were looking at Hermione who was sporting the same grimace and worried eyes that you were sure your face looked like.

Harry and Ron looked at each other, then looked at the two of you. “It was a joke, y/n/n,” Harry tried to ease the tension that was building. “Yeah, I mean, y’don't really think your soulmate might be…one of them,” Ron was anything but subtle with his tone of disgust, as well as his entire body turning around to face the Slytherin table.

Ron’s actions didn’t go unnoticed by a particular group of Slytherin boys. “Staring problem, Weasley? Got a crush?” Malfoy shouted across the dining hall, earning laughs and teasing hollars from his friends.

“Oi, Malfoy, got a present for you,” you stuck your hand in your school bag, pretending to roam around before pulling your hand back out and lifting it high in the air, giving Malfoy the middle finger. His face immediately turned into a scowl. The boy next to him, however, pretended to catch your gesture in the air and put it in his pocket, winking at you in the process.

You rolled your eyes, turning to Hermione who had a look of disgust on her face, “Riddle’s ego really is massive innit.” All three of your friends' heads began to nod. “I swear if he didn’t verbalize how much he bloody hated us I would think he was flirting with you y/n/n.”

“Shut it, Weasley, don’t you put that on me,” you pointed your finger at him, tone joking but words serious. He put his hands up in defense, laughing along with the rest of your friends as you all gathered your things and headed towards your first class.

Unbeknownst to you, a similar conversation was being had at the Slytherin table. “Glad to see meeting your soulmate hasn’t deterred you from trying to flirt with anything that breathes,” Pansy took a sip of her pumpkin juice, teasing the curly haired boy across from her.

“Dunno what you mean, Pans,” the dimples on Mattheo’s cheeks popping out as he smirked.

“Show us your arm again, cousin,” Draco’s words causing everyone to look at Mattheo now. The younger boy scowled, rolling up the sleeve of his dress shirt. There on his arm, in beautiful loopy script were the words you’ve got to be fucking joking.

Theo couldn’t help but laugh, “Don’t know if I’ve ever seen such a foul word in such pretty handwriting.”

Mattheo rolled his eyes, pulling his sleeve back down, “Yeah, well let’s just hope the bird is someone I can tolerate.”

You let out a long groan, hands rubbing up and down your face as you leaned your elbows on your knees . Hermione was sat next to you in the common room, rubbing up and down your back, “The day’s not over quite yet, y/n/n. It wouldn’t appear if you weren’t gonna meet them today.”

“Yeah,” Ron put on his best attempt at an encouraging smile, “maybe they’re another Gryffindor and you’ll meet them before we go to bed.” Harry nodded next to him in agreement.

You stood up, grabbing your jumper off the arm of the couch and throwing it on, “M’gonna go for a walk.”

Hermione’s lips downturned, “It’s nearly curfew.” You sighed, looking over at Harry. “I’ll go get my cloak,” he sighed, standing and walking quickly to his dorm room.

After Harry’s return you thanked him, spending an extra twenty minutes convincing Hermione that you would be the utmost cautious and affirmed to Ron that you would stash the cloak if you were to be caught.

Now you were quietly climbing the stairs to the astronomy tower. When you got to the top, you did a quick look over the railing. With no sign of Filch anywhere you dropped the cloak, laying it on the floor so you didn’t have to sit on the bare ground.

As you got comfortable you dug in your shirt, pulling out a spliff. Hermione would murder you if she found out you smoked, however the year you all had to study for your O.W.L’s, you were so stressed you ended up buying from Theo Nott.

He promised to keep it to himself and you promised it was a one time thing, but you found yourself buying from him every couple months. You weren't sure if she would be more disappointed in your smoking, or you interacting with someone in the forbidden Slytherin group.

You mumbled a short incendio before taking a long drag. You blew the smoke out slowly, watching it ripple through the air and up into the night sky. You looked up at the stars, knowing the day was likely to be over soon and wondering if you were the only witch that was destined to not run into their soulmate like everyone else.

You were lost in your thoughts and self pity. So much so you didn’t even hear someone come up the tower steps until they hit the top. You scrambled to your feet, ready to cover yourself with the cloak when you realized it wasn’t Filch, but a boy instead.

The dark of the night made it difficult for you to see exactly who it was at first, that and the fact that every time he took a step forward you seemed to take a step back until your back was against the stone wall. When he finally stepped into the light, your breath caught in your throat. Standing in front of you, signature smirk adoring his face was Mattheo Riddle.

You stayed rigid against the wall as he got closer to you. His fingers brushed yours as he took the spliff, bringing it up to his lips and inhaling. His eyes never left yours as he turned his head slightly, blowing the smoke into the night. His eyes traveled over you, taking in your black sleep shorts and house jumper. When he looked at your face again he locked eyes with you, almost like he was trying to read what was going on in your brain.

“Do I intimidate you, love?” The words seemed to leave his lips without a second thought and you felt like your chest was going to cave in. There was just no way, absolutely bloody not that he said those words, the words you had been anticipating someone to say all day. Him of all people that could’ve spoken them.

He raised his eyebrows at you, clearly looking for you to answer. Instead of some sputtering response of nervousness like Mattheo was expecting, your face just dropped.

“You’ve got to be fucking joking.” Mattheo’s face went white after you responded, and that was all the evidence you needed to confirm that Mattheo fucking Riddle was your soulmate. He hated you. You hated him. How could two people that despise each other be destined to be soulmates?

"What are you even doing up here?" You crossed your arms over your chest, sitting into your hip. His smirk only seemed to grow, "I think the better question is what are you doing up here, partaking in drugs no less? Little miss golden girl."

You rolled your eyes, "What's that supposed to mean, Riddle?" Mattheo's jaw clenched, "It's Mattheo. And you know what it means. Wonder what everyone would think if they knew little miss perfect liked to come up to the astronomy tower to get high."

"Why would anyone believe you over me?" You were acting a little cocky now, but Mattheo was right in the aspect that you and your friends were seen in an overall more positive light than he and his.

However the look on Mattheo's face made you think he knew something you didn't, "I guess I could just have your dealer tell everyone, or are you buying from someone besides Nott these days?"

He was irritating you on purpose now. You grabbed the spliff back from Mattheo, going to sit where you were before but now leaning your forehead against the railing, “This is got to be some kind of mistake.”

Mattheo could only snicker as he went to sit next to you, hanging his arms over the raining as he looked over the grounds, “S’destiny love, no mistake about it.”

“Thanks so much, you’re being really encouraging about this whole thing,” you rolled your eyes, holding your hand out to him. He took it from you, filling his lungs with smoke again, passing it back and forth throughout the conversation.

Mattheo shrugged his shoulders, “At least we’re both fit.” You snorted at this, “Who said I thought you were fit?” He scoffed, “Please, I’ve seen the way you ogle me.” You found yourself laughing, a true full belly head thrown back laugh before you looked at him and he thought the smile you were wearing was actually kind of cute, “How would you know that unless you were ogling me, hmm?”

Mattheo opened his mouth to respond, but found he couldn’t come up with a good enough excuse before you were speaking again. The sigh you let out let him know how stressed you really were, “Our friends are not going to like this.”

He nodded, smoke billowing out of his mouth as he spoke, “Merlin, no. They’re going to bloody hate it. But s’not like it was really our choice.” You knew he was right, and you knew he was trying to be comforting, but the tone in his voice let you know that he was just as worried to let his group of friends know as much as you were.

You opened your mouth to respond to him when you heard the all too familiar jingle of Mrs. Norris’ collar sounding like she was ascending the stairs. Your eyes grew wide as you and Mattheo both jumped to your feet. It looked like Mattheo is contemplating jumping over the tower railing when you grab his arm to push him flat against the stone wall.

He looked at you with utter confusion as you grabbed the cloak before turning around and pushing your back flush against his chest. “What are you-”

“Shut it,” you cut him off, indicating to him to wrap his arms around your waist as you threw the cloak over the pair of you. As the cat walked on to the tower landing you felt Mattheo’s arms tighten around you, doing his best to pull you impossibly closer.

He was decently taller than you, having to duck down slightly so the cloak covered you both properly. His face was tucked in close to your neck. His breath warm and tickling your skin as Filch followed after his beloved pet, glancing around for anything out of place.

When he was satisfied, Filch turned around to leave, letting his cat lead the way. You waited a few beats, making sure they were nearly to the bottom of the staircase before pulling the cloak off the two of you and pushing Mattheo’s hands off of your body.

“Thing comes in handy, that,” he pointed to the cloth in your hand. You chucked, “Yeah, m’sure your lot would get a lot less detentions if you had one.” Mattheo rolled his eyes, “Yeah, we can’t all be like the golden quartet.”

You scoffed slightly at this as you headed down the stairs, Mattheo close behind you, “We didn’t give ourselves that nickname, you know.” He couldn’t help but laugh, “Yeah but m’sure you all don’t mind it. Definitely gets you some favoritism.”

You stopped at the end of the corridor, Mattheo running into your back at the action and cursing. You turned to face him, “You know, my friends and I have endured a hell of a lot of shite over the last couple years, maybe we deserve a little break when we’re actually able to do normal bloody teenage things.”

As much as you were trying to be harsh with him, be the slightest bit intimidating, his height gave him all the advantage. Mattheo knew what you meant, what you were saying without saying the words themselves. “I’m not like him. Don’t clump me in your same category of hatred. He’s done things to me too,” his eyes reflected a bit of hurt as he spoke and you knew he was telling the truth.

Everyone in school assumed Mattheo was just like his father, held the same ideals and wanted the same things for the wizarding world. The look you were seeing on his face told you otherwise. Your frustration quickly fizzled, instead turning into something closer to pity, “M’sorry.”

“Don’t be,” he deadpanned, “Let’s just get back to our common rooms.” You walked together in silence until you had no choice but to split off. You agreed to meet each other in the courtyard during lunch the next day and you were racking your brain on how you were going to break this news to Harry, Hermione and Ron.

To say you were nervous was an understatement. When you broke the news to your friends about who your soulmate ended up being it wasn’t exactly well received. Hermione was worried, but understanding of the fact that you had no choice in the matter. Harry was upset, but again was trying his best to be mature and said he wouldn’t interfere with you spending some time with Mattheo to get to know him better. Ron took it the worst, which you wished surprised you but he did have a flair for the dramatics.

You were first waiting for Mattheo on a bench in the courtyard, but you couldn’t stop your legs from bouncing, therefore you found a place beneath a tree, attempting to read the same three lines of a book Hermione had loaned you the other day.

When Mattheo found you and finally sat down next to you, you shut your book immediately, letting out a sigh of relief, “Oh thank Godric, you’re here.” It didn’t go unnoticed by you the way a pair of dimples christened his cheeks, “Miss me already, pretty girl? S’barely been twelve hours.”

You shoved his shoulder lightly, trying to resist the pink that tinted your cheeks at the nickname he used, “Not at all, I’ve been sitting here for the better part of twenty minutes, mind you. Thought maybe you decided to ditch me.” Mattheo shrugged, “M’always late. You’re gonna have to get used to that. And I would never ditch you, we’re soulmates, love. You’re stuck with me for life.”

He had a childlike grin on his face when he said that latter part and you couldn’t help the slight notion of butterflies that seemed to flutter in your stomach or the smile that appeared on your face.

All last night you thought it was going to be difficult to fall for Mattheo, but maybe the universe knew something when it paired you two together.

“So how did your friends take the news?” You tried to keep voice neutral, but you really were worried about their responses. Mattheo leaned back against the tree, “They were shocked for sure, Draco took it the hardest. He was more worried about having to spend more time with Potter than me being with you though. Told him that would probably be more rare than he anticipated. W’bout yours?”

You nodded, “Not as bad as I thought, actually. Mione was understanding, as always. Harry was actually pretty good about it, but very skeptical. Ron actually took it the worst, but he’s just protective. Basically like me brother.”

“How d’ya mean?”

You leaned back against the tree yourself, shoulder to shoulder now with Mattheo. You could feel the heat radiating off of him and you wondered if his skin was always warm to the touch, “Both my parents are aurors so they travel a lot. They didn’t think it was safe for me to go with them, so Ron’s mum offered for me to stay at theirs whenever it was needed. Turns out it was needed more times than not growing up.”

Mattheo nodded, listening intently as you spoke. You both started asking surface questions about each other; favorite color (he said black), favorite hobby (quidditch), favorite class (free period).

When both your friend groups came looking for you after lunch period Mattheo asked if you would go to Hogsmead with him over the weekend. You agreed, finding yourself wanting to get to know more about him. Over the next two months you went to Hogsmead with Mattheo at least one day during each weekend.

You slowly learned that his favorite candy was fizzing whizbees, having to stop at Honeydukes every trip for him to grab some. You learned that he was actually very intelligent even though he tried to seem like he wasn't, as he was passing all of his classes even though he skipped half of them. You learned that even though Draco was older than him, he felt like an older brother to his cousin. And maybe your favorite thing that you learned, purely on accident, was that if you squeeze just above his hip that he was incredibly ticklish.

Throughout all of this you still hadn’t kissed. You kept telling yourself (and your friends) that you didn’t want to, but the more time you spent with him, the more you found yourself yearning for it. There were times of lingering touches; his hand on your lower back as he guided you into a building, his fingertips brushing yours as you walked, his leg pressing against yours while you sat next to each other in the courtyard or at the Three Broomsticks.

Hermione, the ever observant friend that she was, noticed your shift in attitude towards Mattheo even before you did. So when she cornered you in the common room, demanding you tell her your true feelings it was almost a relief to let it all out.

“I think I might actually like him, Mione. Like, I know that sounds like something an insane person would say, that they like Mattheo Riddle, like romantically, like someone who isn’t just some daft bimbo, but there's just so much more to him that he lets people see.”

Hermione can’t help but laugh, “I get what you mean. Harry and Ron are coming around, you know. They see how happy you look when you’re with him.”

You tilt your head slightly at this, “What do you mean how happy I look?”

Hermione just shakes her head with a smile, “Like you’re with your person.” You can’t escape the blush that creeps up your neck and covers your cheeks. Hermione’s giggling at you now, “Have you still not kissed him yet?”

You scoffed, “Godric, no.” She pushed your shoulder playfully, “Well why not, y/n/n? Don’t you want to?”

You looked down at your hands, playing with your fingers, “I mean…I think so? But he just hasn’t really…gone for it, you know?”

She nodded in solidarity, “Oh I know, trust me. I had to make the first move with Ronald. Maybe you have to do the same thing?”

You contemplated her words. They invaded a space in your brain for the rest of the night, then the rest of the next morning, and through dinner, and even now as you stood leaning against the railing in the astronomy tower waiting for Mattheo to meet you.

When you heard him coming up the steps you turned only to see him with the sweetest smile on his face. “Hey pretty girl,” he greeted as he enveloped you in a hug. “Hi, Teo,” you had donned the nickname on him your third or so time at Hogsmead. He gave you a good squeeze before letting go, his arms still lingering on your waist with yours around his neck, “What’d you wanna talk about?”

His question was innocent, no implications in his voice that he expected anything beyond you wanting to see him. With Hermione’s advice in the back of your head you knew you needed to just act, as any more talking might lead to you psyching yourself out.

You slid your hands down from his neck, grasping lightly to the lapel of his blazer. He raised his eyebrows slightly at the action, the smallest of smirks on his face.

Without giving yourself time to overthink you pull him into you, lips crashing against yours. He’s shocked at first, but just for a moment before he responds, walking you back until you’re pressed against the stone wall.

One of his hands slides up your body, ghosting over your stomach and the valley of your breasts before settling lightly on your neck. The implication of the hand gesture makes you whimper slightly and Mattheo takes the opportunity to deepen the kiss. Your hands find his hair, tugging lightly at the curls.

When he finally pulls away you find yourself chasing his lips and he smiled at the reaction. “I think I could kiss you forever,” his forehead is resting against yours, lips still so close you can feel his breath on your own. “Yeah?” you laugh a little, smile only increasing when he presses a kiss to your cheek, “Yeah, pretty girl. Forever.”

#mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle fic #mattheo riddle angst #mattheo riddle fluff #mattheo riddle smut #mattheo riddle x you #mattheo riddle x y/n #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle imagine #golden era #harry potter

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ageofstarkey · 8 months

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blood and cuts ✰ m. riddle

summary: matthéo gets into (another) fight, and you’re there to clean him up

pairing: mattheo riddle x reader

warnings: mentions of mild injuries, nothing else rlly?

notes: hi!! this is the tiniest little blurb ever but i’m down horrendous for mattheo n i think it’s cute so i’m posting!! i also spelled his name as matthéo (pronounced ma-tay-o) bc i headcanon him as french lmfaooo - anyways!! enjoy!!

masterlist

✰ ✰ ✰

you look at matthéo with a soft sigh. “again?” his handsome face is spattered with blood and cuts, and there’s a dark bruise forming around his right eye. tentatively, you step forward, taking his face softly in your hands. you roll his head gently from side to side, intently assessing the damage. another sigh. “i wish you’d stop fighting every person who looks at you wrong”

matthéo grins in that devilish way he always does, leaning forward to press a chaste kiss to your lips. he immediately follows it with a soft swipe of his thumb, gathering the small smear of blood he’d left in his wake. “would you believe me if i said he deserved it?”

“they almost never deserve it, théo.”

he shrugs, settling his hands on your hips. “i tend to disagree.” then he’s tugging you swiftly against him, coaxing an involuntary little squeal from your throat. “i honestly think you would’ve swung on the poor git if you’d been there.”

you roll your eyes fondly, sliding your hands around to the back of his neck. “tell me about it while i clean you up, hm?”

matthéo grins at you tenderly, leaning forward to kiss you again. this time, he lingers a little longer, and you can taste his blood on your lips when he pulls away. “deal”

#eeee i just started posting my writing so please be nice!! <3 #ageofstarkey writing <3 #mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle x you #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle imagine #mattheo riddle fanfic #mattheo riddle blurb #harry potter #slytherin boys #slytherin boys fanfic #slytherin boys x reader #draco malfoy #tom riddle #the golden era #harry potter fanfic

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moonsbypadfoot · 1 month

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interest | theodore nott x female reader.

warnings : angst, fluff, based on real live events that I am still going through! (Some parts are still made up, I've only experienced the first half, the second half are made up) 😘🙃, slytherin reader (doesn't really affect the story), usage of y/n, short, short, short fan fiction, wrote this in like 30 mins, english isn't my first language and I am convinced that I'm dyslexic, second person pov,

have fun reading!

🦖

it was your fifth year at hogwarts, fifth year being friends with pansy, and your fifth year being hopelessly inlove with theodore.

yes, you've had 'relationships' before him, but he was still at the back of your mind. theodore was still lingering.

Theo seemed funny, moody, and so much more, but, you didn't expect him to like books.

Pansy looked down while eating her food, and simply said "you're reading little women too? Theodore loves that book" To which you hushed her immediately.

But that didn't stop you from asking her about Theo,later that day. "He likes it? " You asked, showing the book to pansy, "who likes what? " Pansy scrunched her eyebrows, and you groaned loudly.

"Theodore, pansy, Theodore! "

Pansy nodded her head, saying "oh yeah, he likes it". You gasped at how chill she is, and you said " This might be it pansy! ".

And oh you were right, it is it. You and daphne were sitting on a bench, gossiping about other people. When all of the sudden, Theodore passed you two, and said "Laurie, mhm? ".

"So you do like little women? " You and daphne's attention were shifted to him "since forever", and just like that, he left.

That became a more and more of a schedule for you to sit on that same bench everyday, on the exact same time. Daphne doesn't know that you still like him, it was well common knowledge that you used to like Theodore, but, everyone thought that you had moved on.

Daphne was so tired of Theodore, that whenever she sees him coming to you two, she'd roll her eyes sand say stuff like 'here he goes again' and make the biggest sigh ever.

Your first 'real' conversation was him coming up to you, saying "I like jo more than amy". At that point you didn't know what to say, neither Daphne or Pansy was there to make you less tense.

You scoffed "Amy is way better". You tried to keep yourself cool, and you did just that.

For days to days you two became closer. You'd have little chit chats after dinner, and your liking for him became bigger, but it shouldn't have.

"I have some little women.. Merch, I can send it to your room, later" Theodore suggested. "First of all, pansy would kill me if I had a boy in my room. Second of all, that will not happen cause if you do the stairs will turn into a literal slide and make you look stupid" You said, to which he just started at you.

You stupidly dreamt of him in your room, which is obviously forbidden.

Unsurprisingly, Daphne eventually found out about you still liking him, and she's convinced that Theo likes you back.

"Do you not remember what he said? 'I used to like little women, now I like it again because of her' and the boy pointed at you! And do you not remember quidditch? "

Oh boy, you do remember Quidditch.

His Quidditch match was last Wednesday, and two days before that, you two made a bet. If he won, you have to give him 15 galleons, and if he lose, he has to give you 15 galleons.

See, that same week, your professors had bombarded everyone with exams. So, if it wasn't for him you wouldn't have watched any of the Quidditch stuff.

That Wednesday, you kept exactly 15 galleons in your pocket. And, unsurprisingly he won. The slytherins celebrated like crazy, and, after that, you came up to him, saying "I could've bought myself candy but, I have your 15 galleons".

"No need for that," Theodore softly smiles, and went back to his friends who were cheering and waiting for him.

That day you couldve swore you spent a thousand hour telling pansy what you felt.

All of the sudden, Theodore didn't seem interested. You hadn't told Daphne about this, but pansy is so mas at him for the sudden stop of interest.

"See, boys are immature" Pansy groaned and rolled her eyes. "I wanted to know about his friend and, theodore-"

"Not so loud! " You sushed her, reminding that you two were still in the great hall. You doubt anyone heard you but, still, for safety reasons. "How about.. My 'him', we can call him uh.. "

"Toaster, cause if he doesn't act right Im gonna-"

"Hold your horses, pansy, let's call him trex"

"Fine, you're way too nice for that guy, and uhm, what should I call my 'him'? " Pansy asked, and, there was one minute of silence.

"Maybe trial number #2? "

That was the day your nicknames were born, and, things excelated from there. 'Trial #2', which is blaise, talked to pansy in the Slightest way possible, and 'trex' which is theo is talking to you, but he makes the conversation as dry as possible.

Theo is almost always the conversation starter, but when it comes to keeping the conversation going, it's you, and it is hardwork to keep Theo talking to you

That also reminded you of a conversation you had a long, long time ago with millicent. About how he's broken home and doesn't have a mother, and turns out it was true.

"So, that explains the on and off thing with you and him" Pansy shrugged "if you're really in love with him, you're in some really deep shit. Trial #2 barely talks to me"

and in deep shit you are, as the days became longer because he didn't want to talk to you. Pansy convinced you enough to just stop talking to him.

You felt better but, there is still something in you still craving him dearly.

"He's just there, pansy, like.. Like a word about to be spoken, but then vanishes out of our brains! One second he's there and the next he's gone! " You complained.

What made you more confused is that, you and him became more confusing. You felt like you're more than a friend, but you don't know what it is because of one thing he said.

It was common for you friends, lorenzo, and Mattheo, to tease you about Theo. It's as if they know.

Obviously, Theo was there too, along with Daphne next to you. "Y/n, I think you and Theodore are a good fit" Lorenzo laughed, and the others chimed with agreement. But, it was a subtle whisper from Theo that made you down for the rest of the day. "Don't say that, I like astoria"

You kept laughing, though it was obvious for those who actually knows you that your laugh was so fake.

You kept ignoring him, and you truly do feel better for once. As pansy says 'give him taste of his own medicine ' and you did what she said, and you felt better, for awhile.

Till he came up to you and forced you to confess.

"The fuck is wrong with you y/n? " Theodore said. "What do you mean? " You said, but, the pit in your stomach tells you exactly what he means.

"You're avoiding me. I thought we were friends"

"That's the problem" You said, in a confusing tone, which made him think.. Was it a question or a statement?

"I thought we couldve been more, Theo" You rolled your eyes at his oblivion, and you paused "you like astoria, don't you, mhm? You said it yourself".

Theo frowned "don't act so innocent, you and Macmillan were so close I thought you two were dating".

"I wasn't" You paused, "I moved on a long time ago, unlike you, no one moves on in the span of two weeks".

"Her friends told me she doesn't like me! "

"So what? That makes it right? I don't care if she likes you or not, I care if you like her or not. If I'm just your second choice, this won't work. Pansy told me that I'm better than any boys in Hogwarts, and I agree with her! Because boys like you suck"

"I like you, okay? Will you get that into your thick skull?" Theodore groaned and rolled his eyes.

"You're weird" You said, "what about me Is weird? " Theo asks.

"Your on and off stuff. You act interested, then when I actually wanna talk to you you get so dry, do you not think of that? Or you're actually really dumb? "

"You ignored me too"

"That's because I wanted you to feel what I felt! "

You honestly felt sad but, anger was more visible. But Theo looked emotionless. He wasn't happy, angry, sad, he was just there.

You both wanted to say something, but you didn't. Neither you nor Theo said a thing. You opened your bag and found your book, well, technically his.

"Here's a book that i borrowed" You said, giving it to him. "You can keep it" Theo pushed the book back to you, but your hand didn't budge. "No thanks, theo.. Ive written somethings in pencil. Don't worry too much because it's so thin you could barely tell what I wrote, a single swipe with your finger or eraser, it'll be gone".

A week has passed. And you knew for a fact he didn't re read the book.

On your favorite page, you wrote 'three broomsticks, next month, 9:00 AM? ' a month ago.

You knew way more than to come there, or did you?

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veryberryjelly · 8 months

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THINIKING ABT THE READER LOVING MATTHEO RIDDLES ABS ARMS VIENS

𝐧𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐠𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

honestly same.

i picture laying in his dorm waiting for quidditch practice to be over cause you haven't seen him in a couple days.

he comes up drenched in sweat from practice and you cannot even understand the first few words he says cause you're just so focused on the way his shirt has ridden up above his navel.

" a bit distracted there, beautiful ? "

" no..."

but he can see the blush he has created on your cheeks, which only gets worse when he pulls his shirt over his head and drops it to the floor, practically jumping onto the bed beside you.

before you can even comprehend how sexy he looks like this he kisses you and you practically melt into the sheets.

your hands travel down his chest to his stomach and your fingers run greedily over the dips that define his abs.

" missed you " you mutter against his lips.

" me or my abs "

" you don't want me to answer that question "n

#·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳ 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐨 𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐝𝐥𝐞 #·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳ 𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐬 #mattheo riddle fluff #mattheo riddle x you #mattheo riddle imagine #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle smut #mattheo riddle #golden trio #golden trio incorrect quotes #golden trio era #golden trio fanart #golden trio rp #harry potter rp #harry potter fanart #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter movies #harry potter fandom #harry potter

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ginevrapng · 7 months

Text

you're surrounded by your boyfriend!neville and his friends in the gryffindor common room. his friends, not yours. you and neville have been together for a few years now but you still remember admiring him in the beginning of your hogwarts years. you always fancied him, even then, he was always so nervous but kind. it wasn't hard to figure out that he was insecure and at a young age you hated the majority of gryffindors that neville called his friends who would always make jokes at his expense that you overheard. it always frustrated you, you wanted to go up to them and slap them while dragging neville away but he didn't even know you then.

he's never held any ill will towards his housemates years later, they're his friends after all, but you do. you don't mind his friends but calling them your friends is a push. you still don't like hermione for casting petrificus totalus on him in your first year though and realistically you're probably being a bit extreme with your feelings towards them but you know that neville would feel the exact same way the other way round so it doesn't make you feel too bad about it.

you and neville are curled up in an armchair, you're sitting on his lap and laying your head against his chest while he's got his hands around your soft middle. it's getting late and you know you should probably head to your dorm before you fall asleep on neville but you're too comfortable and you don't want to leave yet. you know he's equally as tired you as his geordie accent is more noticeable when he's tired, he leans closer to you, pressed up against your cheek for only you to hear and whispers, "you sleepy flower?"

you make a hum of affirmation and nod slowly. "me too, i'm paggered," he tapers off as he yawns. "do you want t' come to bed?" he asks as he lifts you off him and gets up before offering you his hand to take.

you perk up slightly. "with you?"

he chuckles deeply and tiredly. "yeah, come on petal."

you softly smile and close your eyes momentarily before taking his hand as he pulls you up. some people have already gone up to their dorms but there are still some stragglers, both you and your boyfriend hasn't spoken to anyone in the past half an hour though just holding each other close. as you make your way past the remaining people left in the common room you say your quick goodbyes, "bye guys," you give a small wave with your unoccupied hand and then rub your eyes afterwards as you follow neville to his room.

#neville longbottom x reader #neville longbottom x reader fluff #boyfriend!neville #neville longbottom #neville longbottom x you #♡ neville #♡ mine / writing #neville longbottom fic #harry potter #hp #harry potter x reader #hp x reader #hp x reader fluff #harry potter x reader fluff #harry potter fluff #golden era x reader #golden era x reader fluff

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theonotti · 4 months

Text

SILENT NIGHT | OS | t.n.

Pairing: Theodore Nott x fem!reader!Riddle

Word Count: 4.5k

Summary: The ghost of Christmas Eve Past haunts Theo's present, but not because he needs to change. He needs a reminder of who to never become.

Warnings: Major Character Death (Not Theo or reader), Domestic Violence (Not with Theo or reader), Hurt/Comfort, angsty, fluffy,

Notes: I'm late, but heres a Christmas one shot for Theo :)

That Final Night | Mio

Christmas Eve: Then

“Teddy? To bed, my love.”

Theo smiled from his hiding spot behind the curtains. In his eight year old mind, there’s no way she could see him. He was invisible. Behind the silky fabric, he ceased to exist. Beyond the darkness between the window and the curtain, Theo could hear the sounds of his mother’s heels tapping against the hardwood. She was close. He could see the outline of her silhouette from the other side of the thin curtain.

“Father Christmas won’t leave any presents if he knows a certain boy is still awake and hiding!” Her honey soaked voice echoed out again. Before Theo even had the chance to process her words, the curtain was ripped away and he was in his mother’s arms. She spun herself around, making Theo fell as if he was flying through the air. His shrieks of laughter bounced off the thinly decorated walls before she slowed to a halt, smiling lovingly at the wavy haired boy.

“Come, love,” She whispered to him. “I have your tea ready.”

Setting him back down to his feet, Cassundra Nott smiled down at her son before leading him out of the sitting room and down the corridor to his bedroom.

Theo didn’t like walking the halls of the mansion, despite his many years of living there. The energy in the air was always so grim, the walls bare and painted a dark grey colour. Theo was convinced that there were demons in the walls, due to the screams he could hear coming from them some nights. His mother assured him time and time again that they were only in his nightmares, but Theo was wise for his mere eight years. The nights he heard the screams being the same nights he would see his father go into the basement of the house as the young lad was ushered quickly to bed was not lost on Theo.

In fact, it only made him wonder if his father was summoning the demons, keeping them there as a way to ensure Theo stayed in line.

There was only one person who brought any slither of warmth under the cold roof of Nott Manor, and it was the woman walking a few paces ahead of him. Her golden blonde curls trailed down her back, her delicate fingers tracing an invisible line into the wall as she led Theo to his bedroom. He looked at her with such incredible awe. Theo didn’t worship any sort of God, because no God could even come close to comparing to the wonder that was Cassundra Nott. If someone told him that she hung the stars and the moon every night, and that the sun only rose because she asked it to, he would’ve easily believed them. There were few people that Theo had in the world. His father’s care for him only extended as far as keeping the Nott legacy going. So that left Theo with three people: Mattheo, Draco, and his mother. But she topped the list. In every circumstance, she topped the list.

His mother opened the door to his bedroom, ushering him inside. The dark green of the walls made the room seem much darker than Theo would like. His father insisted on the colour scheme matching that of Slytherin house, as if it would somehow eliminate the already incredibly low chances of him ending up in another house come time for him to ship off to Hogwarts. His slot in the House of the Cunning and Ambitious was as guaranteed as the snow falling in the winter, or his father downing half a bottle of whiskey before dinner. Theo wished the walls were blue, though he learned the hard way to not let that thought be anything more than a thought.

A steaming mug of tea was sitting on the bedside table, waiting for him as his mother pulled the blankets out for him. Her smile was warm as he walked over to the bed, crawling under the covers and taking the warm mug between his hands. He knew it had Calming Draught in it, as he received this same dose in his tea every Christmas Eve, as well as the evening before his birthday.

Cassundra sat on the edge of the bed as she watched Theo take a long sip from the mug.

“Are you ready for Christmas, love?” She asked gently, raking her fingers through Theo’s hair. As he swallowed the tea, he nodded vigorously.

“I hope Father Christmas got me the broom I asked for!” He exclaimed. “Mattheo let me try his new broom and it was so fast! I bet I could get to Scotland in under five minutes.”

His mother laughed softly before saying, “Under five minutes? That sounds rather fast.”

Theo nodded enthusiastically.

“I could get to Hogwarts faster than the train! I won’t even need to take it! And then I could come visit you every single evening, so you can give me a kiss and a cuddle goodnight.”

If Theo weren’t so young and oblivious, he would’ve noticed the flush that filled his mother’s cheeks, or the tender smile that pulled at the corners of her lips. Or even the sadness that filled her eyes over the idea of him leaving her.

“Well, we have a few years yet before we have to worry about that,” She said delicately. “Maybe if you don’t get a broom this year, you’ll get one the Christmas before Hogwarts?” But all this response does is make Theo groan in displeasure.

“I don’t want to wait two years! I want a broom now!”

His mother smiled at his impatience, hooking her finger underneath his chin and forcing him to look up at her.

“I know you’re excited, lovely boy,” She said in a soft voice. “But I promise you, you’re going to have a good day tomorrow. I’ve made sure to let Father Christmas know how wonderful you’ve been this year.” She scrunched up her nose as she kissed the tip of his. “He doesn’t need to know of the times you were trouble.” She tilted her head as she looked down at him. “Surely he won’t disappoint.”

Theo looked up at his mother. Of course she was right. She was right about everything. And he trusted her more than anyone else to make sure Father Christmas knew what he wanted more than anything for Christmas.

Theo finished the last of his tea, making sure he got every last drop like he always did. When he set the mug down, he smiled up at the beautiful face of his mother, who was already smiling down at him. The potion’s effects were already starting to take hold, the running wheel of his mind slowing to a halt as his eyelids grew droopy. With one hand on the back of his head and the other on his shoulder, Cassundra laid Theo down against his pillow.

“Now,” She said, her voice more stern than normal. “What are we not going to do this year?”

Theo let out a tired sigh.

“I won’t sneak down before morning to see what gifts are left for me.”

His mother nodded once, definitively.

“We don’t need another episode with your father.” In his obliviousness from ignorance and the Calming Drought effects, Theo didn’t notice the disdain in her voice, or the fear that flooded her face. Though he did remember the events of the year prior, the screaming from his father at all hours of the morning, followed by Theo being banished to his room until midday.

“I won’t sneak down again, mamma,” He said in a small voice, a yawn escaping him as his eyes began to droop shut.

Cassundra tucked the blankets in before leaning down and pressing a kiss to Theo’s forehead.

“Sleep well, il mio tesoro,” She said in a quiet whisper as the chestnut haired boy had already lost himself to his subconscious. With one last loving look, and a delicate trace down his cheek to ensure he was really sleeping, Cassundra Nott stood up from the bed and left the room, closing the door tightly behind her.

Little did she know that this would be the last time she saw her son like this.

It was only a few hours later that Theo was awoken by none other than his bladder. He squinted his eyes in the dark as he jumped out of bed, all but running from the room as quickly as his still asleep legs could take him. It wasn’t until he was in the bathroom that he started to wake up. The clock in the hallway chimed three in the morning, meaning his mother was long asleep. His father had gone out to celebrate the holidays with a few other Death Eaters, and he made sure to tell Cassundra and Theo that it was unlikely he would be home before dinner the next day.

Just one peak.

And then you’ll be back in bed.

No one will ever know.

The logic made sense to him, and before he knew it, his feet were carrying him out of the bathroom and down the hall. Walking right passed his bedroom, he went right to the stairs and slowly tiptoed down.

It wasn’t until he was halfway down the stairs that the voices registered.

“...wake Theodore, please keep your voice down.”

“How dare you police me in my own home!?”

The slur in his father’s voice was so prominent that he almost didn’t recognize him, though the yelling was a sound the young lad was deeply accustomed to. Theo sank down so he was sitting down on the edge of the step, his hands gripping the wooden poles of the bannister as he watched his mother cower. Standing behind the man of the house was a flash of long, platinum white hair with a cane that was used in this moment to stop him from swaying. Next to Lucius Malfoy was Fenrir Greyback, his arms bare despite the raging cold outside, and Antonin Dolohov, who had a flask to his mouth as he watched Nott Sr. in amusement. All of the men in the living room were inebriated beyond belief.

Cassundra swallowed hard before she spoke again. The fear was so clear cut on her face that Theo wanted to rush to her and cup her cheeks, telling her all would be okay.

“I’m not policing you…” She said in a small voice. “I just think it’s Christmas Eve, and I’m setting up for Theodore, and-”

Her words were lost to the force of Nott Sr.’s hand wrapping around her throat and slamming her against the wall. Her head was unable to bounce forward, but it was evident by the deep grimace on her face how hard it was hit. The reverberation of his mother’s body denting the drywall caused Theo to fall backwards, almost falling down the stairs entirely.

“Are you arguing with me?” Nott Sr.’s voice was so low that Theo almost couldn’t hear it. But he’d learn how to pick out that voice at a very young age. It was how he knew when to go sit quietly in his room with a book, remaining unseen and unheard.

“No!” Cassundra was able to gasp out, her hands trying and failing to pry her husband’s calloused fingers from her throat.

“That sounded like arguing to me, Nott,” Lucius piped in. “Can't let anyone think your wife wears the trousers in the household, can you?”

Theo was not a violent child, but the sound of his best friend’s father egging on the abuse of his mother was filling the eight year old’s chest with a level of anger he had never felt before. He wanted to scream. He wanted to punch. He wanted to hit and hit and hit Lucius until his big, ugly nose went flat. But the fear that his mother taught him to have of his father and the other Death Eaters pulled at his muscles, keeping him frozen on the stairs as he watched the scene unfold.

Before Theo had a moment to breathe, a wand appeared in Nott Sr.’s free hand, the tip pressed into his wife’s jugular. Theo could feel the air being ripped out of his lungs as he watched the colour leave Cassundra’s cheeks. Her face was illuminated by the twinkling lights of the Christmas tree beside her. Theo’s face was pressed against the wood, so much so that his head was almost fully squeezing between the poles.

“You ungrateful bitch,” Nott Sr. sneered angrily. “Disrespecting me in front of my colleagues.”

“Are you planning to let that slide, Nott?” Fenrir chimed in with a laugh before taking a long swig from a bottle of firewhiskey.

“Maybe I should have your voice?”

His wand didn’t even move, but a spark of light still shot out of the end, and suddenly, Cassundra’s mouth opened and closed, but no words, not even a stammer or faint whisper, came out. Hot tears spilled down Theo’s cheeks and onto his pyjama bottoms, but he didn’t notice as he watched in horror while his mother tried to speak but only air left her mouth.

Please stop.

Please don’t.

I couldn’t handle never hearing her speak again.

Or hearing her sing to me.

Or hearing her say my name.

Theo’s hands gripped the poles so tightly that his knuckles turned a blazing shade of white.

Nott Sr. threw his wife to the ground as Lucius, Fenrir and Antonin laughed in amusement, as if Nott Sr. had told a joke or done something funny. But none of this was funny. Not to Theo, who wanted to run over and protect his mother. Who wanted nothing more than to bring the same sort of pain to his father and friends that they were bringing to the most important person in his life.

“A woman must remember her place,” Nott Sr. continued on, pacing slow circles around his wife while his fellow Death Eater’s watched in belligerent amusement. The slur in his voice would’ve added a sort of facetiousness to his words, but with the way he looked down at the blonde figure he had just thrown to the floor, it only made it more menacing.

“And how will you remind her?” Lucius asked, causing Theo’s father to turn and look at the blonde haired man with a smirk.

“I have a few ideas in mind.”

Cassundra attempted to scream with every fibre of her being, veins popping out of her neck and forehead while her skin turned a dark red, but no sound came out at all. Theo felt her pain as if he, too, had his voice taken from him, as if he had been slammed against the wall, as if he had been thrown to the floor.

Nott Sr. turned back to his wife, the smirk fading quickly from his face and replaced with disdain. He raised his wand above his head.

Theo blacked out.

The eight year old’s legged carried him at a speed he didn’t know he could move at, until he was throwing his arms around his mother, guarding her.

“Father, please,” He sobbed into her soft blonde curls as he addressed the presence towering over them. Cassundra wrapped her arms around Theo, noiselessly comforting him as her fingers raked through his hair, her eyes squeezed shut. The room went deadly silent for a brief moment.

“You will learn to speak when you’re bloody spoken to, boy,” Nott Sr. sneered, his voice low and filled with even more anger than before as he grabbed Theo by the back of his shirt and ripped him out of his mother’s arms, tossing him across the room so hard, he slid across the hardwood floor and into the wall. A shadow leered over him as Nott Sr. rounded on Theo, his wand at the ready.

“If you’re so desperate to be a man, then you can handle her punishment then, can’t you?”

The next few moments went by so quickly, yet also as if they were in slow motion.

Nott Sr. raised his hand above his head, the tip of his wand igniting into a bright red colour.

A flash of blonde jumped onto his back, tackling the older man to the ground.

Lucius and Antonin grab Cassundra off Nott Sr. and toss her to the floor once more.

And then, the flash of green.

He didn’t hear his father speak. Hell, he didn’t even see his father get up from the floor. But make no mistake, Theo didn’t miss the older man, with the wild chestnut hair that he did inherit and the menacing look that he did not, pointing his wand at his mother, sending the bright green spell directly into her chest.

She was gone before the scream left Theo’s mouth.

“No, no, no, no, no, no…”

Theo crawled across the floor, moving his mother’s head from the floor to his lap as he placed his hands on either cheek.

“Mum, please,” He begged, staring into her lifeless eyes as they remained open. “Mamma, wake up. PLEASE WAKE UP!”

“For Merlin’s sake…” His father mumbled before flicking his wand once more. Theo’s voice evaporated off his tongue, but his lips still moved as he soundlessly begged his mother to come back to him. His tears fell onto the bare skin of her shoulder, and he wondered if they would be enough to warm her back to life. When she didn’t stir, Theo broke down entirely, holding her head close to his chest and burying his face in her golden curls as he began to rock back and forth.

“One of the house elves will clean it up,” Nott Sr. said to his friends, as if speaking about a

spilled dinner plate and not the dead body of his wife. “Come, gentlemen. The parlour is where my

reserve is, and I need another glass after that… unfortunate incident.”

And so Nott Sr. left the room, followed by Malfoy, Dolohov and Greyback, leaving his grieving son on the floor, where he stayed for hours until the house elves finally pried the body of Cassundra Nott out of his hands.

The hands that would never get to hug or touch his mother ever again.

Christmas Eve: Now

The sound of a crash echoes throughout the kitchen, followed quickly with a loud groan.

“Sorry, sorry…”

“I swear to Merlin, Malfoy, if you wake up my wife, I’ll throttle you.”

A slew of drunken laughter fills the kitchen as the three men clamber in through the back door. Draco respectfully picks up the trash can he knocked over under the watchful eye of Theo. Once it’s back in its proper position, Draco gestures towards it proudly, as if he had just done something profound.

“Happy, Nott?”

Theo bobs his head back and forth, pretending to mull this over.

“I’d be happier if you weren’t an idiot.”

Mattheo, who had just taken a large pull from the bottle of firewhiskey in his hand, spits it out all over the refrigerator.

“That’s like asking for snow in the middle of July.”

With a deep scowl on his face, Draco shoves Mattheo into the counter before sneering, “Fuck off, Riddle.”

Mattheo, in his truest form, makes kissy faces at Malfoy, who then proceeds to throw a kitchen roll at his head. Before it can hit the floor, Theo catches it in midair. The other two look at him as if he had just juggled seven kitchen rolls, or caught Baby Jesus himself.

“Alright, alright, let’s move to the parlour before the two of you destroy my kitchen.”

The walk from the kitchen to the parlour is one the three of them have taken on drunken nights like these hundreds of times, yet at this moment, the distance seems to have grown exponentially longer. Mattheo stumbles as he walks, a loud laugh escaping him as he anchors himself with the wall. Theo, in an effort to keep his friend quiet, smacks him upside the head.

“What was that for?” The dark curly haired man shouts, not without an undercurrent of laughter in his tone.

“For being a git,” Theo hisses. “Shut. The. Fuck. Up.”

It’s too late though.

Over the sound of Draco’s giggles, Theo can make out the sound of footsteps coming down the stairs.

“Theo?”

His heart stops at the sight of you on the landing, rubbing the sleep from your eyes as they jump between him and his friends. He smiles sheepishly at you.

“Did we wake you, cara mia?”

You shake your head as you reach the bottom of the steps. He sucks in a large gulp of oxygen as he takes in the sight of you. Even in your pyjamas, he finds the sight of you simply breathtaking. The sleep stains on your face and the way your eyes droop makes his heart race as if he was just seeing you for the first time. With a slight sway in his step, his feet carry him towards your magnetic pull, his hands gently gripping your waist.

“You can tell me if we woke you,” He says in a gentle voice, an undercurrent of guilt filling his tone. But you shake your head again as you bring your hands to the tops of his shoulders, running your fingers along the curves of his muscles to the dip of his neck.

“I woke up a couple of minutes before I heard you come inside, I promise.”

He doesn’t believe you, but his blood shot eyes are so enraptured by the beauty that is your face that he doesn’t care. His hands move up to cradle your cheeks before he brings his face to yours, peppering your skin with kisses. Your forehead, your cheeks, your nose, your temples, your eyelids. Every piece of you that he can reach gets a kiss. His fingertips tease weave into your hair as you place your hands on his clavicle, laughing as he kisses you.

From behind him, Mattheo and Draco both make fake retching noises.

“I’ve never met a more disgusting couple,” Malfoy whines.

“Truly the worst to be around,” Riddle adds in agreement.

“Oh, piss off to the parlour, you two,” Theo barks as he pulls his mouth away from your face. He doesn’t turn to make sure they leave, trusting the sound of their fading footsteps down the hall. His thumbs stroke the skin of your cheeks delicately.

“Happy Christmas, my love,” He says before gently kissing your mouth. You hum contently as the kiss lasts a few more seconds.

“Happy Christmas, Theo.”

The sight of you smiling up at him makes his stomach flip. He finds himself wondering how he got so lucky, finding you? From the moment you walked into his life that fateful day at Hogwarts, his life turned into a sort of dream that he didn’t want to wake up from. And it was made even better when you had married him.

Even after all this time, he can’t get enough of you.

“Get some sleep,” He says gently, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “I’ll keep the boys quiet.”

“Please,” You say, your voice still husky from just having woken up. “And please tell Mattheo that if he throws up on the carpet again, it’ll be him cleaning it up, not the house elves.”

Theo lets out a hearty, full laugh. It’s something his life is filled with a lot of these days. With his friends and you by his side, sometimes it’s easy for him to forget that it wasn’t always like this.

“I love you with my entire heart,” He slurs, gently kissing you again. “Please never forget that.”

You laugh softly again, the sound making Theo feel lightheaded. Or is it the alcohol? No, it’s definitely the sound of your laugh.

“I love you too, Drunky,” You tease him. “Please make sure you come to bed. Don’t fall asleep in the parlour.” He nods, his eyes twinkling in amusement.

“Yes, cara mia.”

You give him one last kiss to the cheek before you turn and make your way back upstairs. Theo’s eyes watch you the entire way, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips as you disappear into the hallway. It isn’t until he hears the creaky bedroom door close that he finally turns and starts walking towards the parlour to join his mates.

As he walks down the hall, one of the pictures out of the corner of his eye stops him. Slowly, he turns, the amusement leaving his face as his eyes fall on that one painting.

His mother smiles down at him as she sits in a rocking chair. Behind her is a dark space where his father had been, up until a night of grief and alcohol caused Theo to direct a spell towards the fake personification, and subsequently led to the destruction of all paintings of his father in the house. Though he had the frame replaced, the damage remains.

His eyes trace the trail of golden curls that flow down her shoulders and upper torso. He can still remember how soft the strands felt when she’d kiss him goodnight and they’d brush along his cheek.

“Please tell me I’m not like him,” He begs her, his voice suddenly small. “Please tell me I’ve made you proud.”

She smiles tenderly down at him, his heart feeling ready to burst.

“Oh, il mio tesoro,” She says softly as his eyes flutter shut. “You're ten times the man he’d ever be. And I couldn’t be more proud of you if I tried.”

Theo smiles widely, tears escaping through his shut eyelids.

Bliss.

#theodore nott #theo nott #theodore nott x reader #theo nott x reader #theodore nott x you #theo nott x you #golden trio era #golden trio era fanfiction #harry potter fanfiction

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thecrystalquill · 3 months

Text

A/N: Welcome to Chapter Thirteen! Thank you for waiting; I wanted to do it before Christmas, but you know how busy December is. Also find me on AO3: The_Crystal_Quill !

Also I'm so glad to finally give Rahim some appreciation <3

Please don't forget to leave a like!!!

Masterlist Series Masterlist Introduction Your First Year Letter

Chapter Thirteen ~ One Step Closer

Dear (Y/N),

It’s about time that you wrote me a letter that I didn’t have to share, and I don’t appreciate you keeping secrets from me, but I do enjoy having secrets to keep. I won’t tell anyone; I highly doubt they would be of any help anyway.

First of all, stop looking in the damned library, the answers to your Message aren’t in a book. I suggest you figure out where to go. This Spirit, whoever they are, obviously has something for you to find. They must have been to Hogwarts, or there would have been no point in Contacting you now. It must be there.

I would like to be involved in this, obviously you’re getting nowhere on your own, the only obstacle in my way is the fact that Hogwarts is so far. you should stay at Hogwarts to do some investigating. I will help.

I’ll start to set the seed in Mother and Father’s heads about what it would be like to see your school, I know there is a village near Hogwarts, find out the name for me. Then you can write home and tell them that you want to spend the holidays at Hogwarts – I’ll convince them to travel to see you there, it should be easy to get them to believe it was their idea.

In the mean time, you just look for some clues. I’m sure you can find something to do until I get there.

~ Wednesday

Emotionless, mildly condescending, and straight to the point, just like her sister. It was clear to (Y/N) that Wednesday was rather excited about this enigma; it had only taken a couple of days for her to reply, and she’d obviously put a plan together rather quickly in her eager state.

She really must be bored without (Y/N) there. It was a nice thought, in a way.

(Y/N) didn’t really want to spend the winter holidays at Hogwarts; she’d actually been rather looking forward to sleeping in her own bed and decorating the family tree, standing for another annual portrait and bickering while Lurch painted their every expression, and not to mention the flaming Christmas Pudding that only Grandmama knew how to make. But it seemed that some things were more important – (Y/N) was starting to despise this Spirit for interrupting her life; she was supposed to have a very normal year of magic and studying.

There were no practical lessons so close to the holidays, and most of her classes consisted of reviewing the work they had completed during their first term before it came to an end. For the last thirty-six minutes, she had been writing an essay about Rowena Ravenclaw and her life before and after the creation of Hogwarts, while Professor Binns lectured about how next term they would be looking into the other schools of magic around the world. It was a shame, (Y/N) thought, that Binns had a talent for making a subject so interesting sound so incredibly boring. It seemed the most exciting thing to ever happen to him was his death, and even then his retelling of the event was as dull and lifeless as the corpse which he left behind.

“…Now, Beaubatons, the French academy, that is – you may read it and think it is pronounced ‘beau’ as in ‘beautiful’, but is actually pronounced ‘boar’ like the wild pig, now that I think on it, it’s much like Hogwarts being named from the mole of a hog – anyhow, Beaubatons is in the Pyrenees, and takes students predominantly from, France and Spain, so I suppose they must also have language classes there too. Actually, quite a lot of them seem to speak a few languages, very talented students, they are, so I suppose they must offer language classes. So anyway, as I was saying, Beaubatons school is cloaked under a spell, much like the one that hides the Hogwarts grounds from muggles, but where here they simply get dazed and confused and return themselves away from the area, them being in the Pyrenees means a lot of muggles tend to get themselves lost off the edge of rocks and cliffs and the like, and as unfortunate as that is, it means that the whole area is highly advised against, as far as the muggles are concerned, so in the end it turns out to be not so bad. Sure, there’s a few injuries and the odd death every now and then, but it does a fine job at keeping the muggles away. So, as I was saying…” Sweet Hades take my soul to the depths of Styx already, (Y/N) thought. If he carried on any longer she may just pull her ears off, and her peers seemed to suffer similarly. Listening to Binns’ unique way of speaking was somehow the verbal equivalent of watching paint dry; his tone was slow and monotonous as if he were bored of it himself, and he drawled through each sentence like a snail, droning on and on, digression after digression, to the point where it’s hard to even hear what exactly he’s talking about over the constant sound. And don’t even get started on what it was like to get trapped in a conversation with him – there was no escaping the relentless torture of word after word for what felt like hours, and there was no helping his victims chained in place by the requirement to be polite to your elders.

Sharing her desk was Saoirse, of course, but (Y/N) had noticed she’d fallen asleep some time ago – Binns had quite the power for doing that. Now would be the perfect time for some earphones, yet another con to muggle technology not working at Hogwarts; she’d once wanted to ask why that was, but she dreaded how long the answer would take.

‘Rowena Ravenclaw then decided that her house would be one for students who valued wisdom and knowledge above all else, and created an environment which would nurture their minds and mould her students into some of the brightest witches and wizards at Hogwarts.’ (Y/N) wrote, hoping to finish her essay before the class ended so she wouldn’t have it for homework. Only ten minutes left until the bell would sound and release them from their torture.

When there was only four minutes left, (Y/N) nudged Saoirse with her elbow, waking her almost immediately; they had learned that it was best to leave as soon as the bell rang, rather than risk being caught up in a conversation with the professor, it was a mad-dash to leave.

As she rolled up her essay and put her quill away, (Y/N) thought about what she was going to write in her letter home. Wednesday must have already set the seed of seeing Hogwarts, as she’d put it, so now she needed to request that she stay. Only, she was finding it a little tricky to think up a reason for the strange request; in almost every letter (Y/N) had mentioned how she couldn’t wait to return home, what could possibly make her want to stay?

She needed a lie, and a good one at that.

When the bell finally dismissed them, the girls grabbed their bags and cloaks and exited the classroom. As December had rolled around, the snow was starting to fall each night, leaving a light layer on the grounds, and the hallways were becoming even more chilled than before. It was the perfect amount of cold for (Y/N); her breath fogged slightly in front of her, and she could wear comfortable layers, and feel like she was taking a lovely trip through the morgue.

The hallways gradually warmed up as they got closer to the Great Hall, their ever-burning fires seemed to heat the whole room, and the toasty warmth was trapped between the walls. Magic, probably, stopped the heat from escaping through the brickwork.

At the Slytherin table, (Y/N) sat and thought of what to write in her letter while Saoirse started a conversation about her latest obsession: vampires. “Wait, you really didn’t know they were real?” (Y/N) asked as she fiddled with the golden goblet in front of her. She sometimes forgot that Saoirse was raised by very ordinary muggles.

“I thought they were just a myth, like an old folk-tale, y’know?” Answered Saoirse with a wave of her arm, she gestured often when she spoke, (Y/N) noticed. “Like Dracula.”

“Dracula was real too.” She replied, amused at the way Saoirse dropped her hands on the table and gawked.

“What?” She said, moving her hair out of her face to pay proper attention to her friend. “Explain, now.”

Rolling her eyes, (Y/N) succumbed to the distraction. “Count Dracula was from Romania, he came to Whitby by ferry, and he lived and died there. The story got a bit exaggerated through time, but he was very real. In fact, you can learn all about him in my town.” She was ready to leave it there as she saw her other roommates enter the room and look for them, but she thought one last piece of information would be worth sharing. “Local legend says he’s buried in an unmarked grave somewhere in the town, but he’s actually buried in the Addams Cemetery next to my Great-Great-Uncle Wolfgang Addams.”

“WHAT?”

Dear Mother and Father,

I have so been looking forward to returning home for the holidays, as you know. But there has been an unfortunate incident involving a friend of mine and a carnivorous plant in one of the herbology greenhouses. She is having to spend the holidays in the hospital wing and can’t go home. I know you have been excited for me to be back home, but I may have already agreed to stay here so my friend wouldn’t be alone. Is that alright? I feel terrible about it all, but I’ve heard Christmas at Hogwarts is something to be awed. Perhaps you could send my gifts here? Or we can save them for the next holidays? It’s such a shame you can’t come here.

I have been practising my sword skills in the Forbidden Forest, luckily the cold weather means that few people are outside to see me. Sadly, I haven’t seen any terrible creatures in the forest, no ghouls or monsters, but there’s still time.

My lessons have been going well; my potions are near perfect, herbology has been coming naturally to me, and I only fell off of my broom once. Though, Transformation is proving to be more difficult than I anticipated.

The Hogwarts Express leaves from Hogsmeade Station early on Saturday morning next week, and I’ve agreed to accompany Saoirse as she boards. I look forward to hearing back from you.

~ (Y/N)

It wasn’t a perfect lie, but it would do. (Y/N) was attaching the letter to Mortis’ long leg as he finished up the steak and kidney pie she brought him, hoping he wouldn’t get too cold during his long flight. She’d already sent a note to Wednesday, informing her of the name of the nearest town and any updates on her mystery. With luck, she could easily convince them to stay in Hogsmeade – it would be a shame to not see them all for the winter – perhaps (Y/N) could sneak Wednesday into school.

“Go on then, Mortis.” She said to the great bird, giving his strong back a pat. “Fly back home as quickly as you can, I’ll see you soon.” (Y/N) took a step back, and watched as the vulture gave her a farewell nod and spread out his massive wings, diving from the tall tower and catching the wind to take him south. She watched until the giant creature turned into a brown-ish blur and disappeared into the white horizon, hoping it didn’t snow on his journey.

The trail back to the castle was long and peaceful; dark fir and pine tree tops were dusted in white and the snow on the ground had set a foot deep already, crunching beneath her shiny black boots with each step. For a while, that was the only sound she heard, until she neared the castle grounds and saw that there were students dotted around – some were settled around the courtyard some were walking through the fields to the iced-over lake, and two identical red-heads were throwing snowballs either at their friends or at unfortunate bystanders.

(Y/N) tugged on her leather gloves and tightened the emerald scarf around her neck, feeling a chill breeze redirect her way. She was pondering returning to the library to once more search for a useful book in the Divination section; she had all but given up on that idea, there was no way she could search through so many on her own, but she’d hate to admit that Wednesday was right.

She was just ascending the salted stone steps that lead into the castle, when she felt a soft pat on her head, and cold water melting into her hair and run down her neck. (Y/N) froze, and the whole courtyard seemed to freeze with her. A curse was muttered from behind her, and she turned to face the culprit. Maybe a dozen people were in the open area, all staring wide-eyed between the black-clad Addams heir and the group of damp third-year boys at the centre of it all. Three of the boys took a step back, pointing at their red-head friends accusingly, who watched warily for her reaction. (Y/N) said nothing, waiting for them to go first.

They straightened themselves out, faces pale from the cold and shock, noses red, gloves wet, both covered in snow. They looked to each other briefly, seemingly deciding what to do. “It was him!” The one of the left exclaimed, pointing to his brother.

The second twin gasped and put his hands up in surrender, shooting his brother a horrified expression of betrayal. “It was an accident, I swear!” He defended, giving her what he hoped was a sincerely apologetic look, crossing his heart with his forefinger. “I was aiming for Lee!”

A boy on the right threw his hands up, mirroring the look of innocence his accuser displayed. “Don’t drag me into this, you’re just a crappy shot.”

“Oi!”

“Well you’re the one who hit her!”

It was clear a petty argument was about to break out, so (Y/N) turned to face them fully from the third step and crossed her arms, successfully regaining their focus. They expected her to yell, to scream, to throw insults and curses. But she didn’t – she already had their attention; she didn’t have to cause a scene to get what she wanted.

All eyes were on them as the boys looked between themselves and her nervously; the longer she stood silent, the more anxious they became, wondering what she might do. Nothing in her face or body language gave away any indication of what she was thinking. Lee elbowed the twin nearest to him, seeming to snap him into some sort of action. “I-I’m sorry, I didn’t do it on purpose, I promise.” The guilty red-head said, pulling his knitted hat over his ears as he gave her another genuine expression.

There was a pause of complete silence, all lesser-noises absorbed by the blanketed snow, as everyone watched. Then, with only a single, small nod, (Y/N) turned and continued on her way, leaving them to their business.

Sometimes (Y/N) forgot about the reputation she’d somehow accumulated since her arrival, after all, she did very little to build it. Somehow, in simply being herself, people had made her (and her family) to be some sort of fantastical being of dark and mysterious origin. Saoirse often made her feel so normal, that she often forgot that, in the eyes of everyone else, she wasn’t. So it wasn’t too drastic of her to assume something as simple as a rogue snowball may have been thrown on purpose, she thought. But an apology was all she needed, and the boy was polite enough to give a sincere one. So perhaps not everyone outside of her inner circle was all that bad, even if they thought some truth was behind the rumours about her.

It was half-past eleven on a Saturday morning, exactly one week before the Winter holidays, which meant that the library would be full of people finishing up assignments and catching up on reading. As she entered the quiet hall, she was unsurprised to see most people wearing Ravenclaw jumpers. Making her way towards the back, (Y/N) passed a table piled high with books; curiously, she peered around a stack to see Hermione in a discussion with her two Gryffindor friends. “This is taking forever, I don’t know where else to look.”

“I know I’ve read his name somewhere.” Harry said, flicking through a copy of Great Wizards Of The Twentieth Century, before Ron nudged him in the arm and nodded to their observer. “Oh, um… hi…” He said, drawing back slightly, as if unsure of what to say. It was then that (Y/N) noticed how Harry didn’t seem to ever say her name – perhaps, (Y/N) considered, he simply hadn’t decided on if he should call her by her first name or her last.

“That’s quite a lot of books,” (Y/N) commented, busying herself with undoing her coat.

“Yeah well, we’ve been doing quite a lot of reading.” Said Ron with a slight edge of defence. (Y/N) couldn’t understand why, it seemed to her a silly thing to defend.

Normally, (Y/N) would have resigned the attempt at conversation. But given that these were Hermione’s friends, she figured it wouldn’t hurt to show a little effort – she thought it was very grown-up of her. “Anything interesting?”

The answers from each of them varied, but Hermione simply huffed at them and turned to her. “(Y/N), do you know anything about Nicolas Flamel?” She asked, ignoring Ron’s noise of protest.

(Y/N) hummed as she removed her scarf and hung it on her arm. “Can’t say I’ve heard of him. Why?”

“No reason.” Said Ron, closing his book and moving it aside, interrupting Hermione before she shared too much.

Hermione only sent him a glare and ignored his frown of disapproval. “We’ve looked everywhere but we just can’t seem to find anything on him. The only place we haven’t checked is the Restricted Section.”

“The Restricted Section?” (Y/N) repeated, wondering why a library would hide books rather than share them. “What’s in there?”

“Mostly books on restricted topics, advanced dark magic and the likes.” The intelligent girl explained, turning to look to the back of the library. “Unfortunately, you can’t go in without a consent form, and that’s never going to happen.”

“Well, can’t you just ask the librarian? Surely she’ll know something about this Flamel.” (Y/N) offered, though she was clearly intrigued.

Harry shook his head. “No way, she’ll tell on us for sure.” He said, but the moment he did his eyes widened and Ron made another frustrated groan.

(Y/N) raised a brow and felt her curiosity grow. “So it’s a secret, this Flamel stuff?” She guessed, and it seemed she hit the nail right on the head.

“Look, you can’t tell anyone.” Ron stressed, moving the stack of books from between them so she could see all of him properly. “It’s very important that no one finds out about any of it.”

(Y/N) nodded, she wasn’t one for spreading secrets. “Of course.” Seeing then that she had nothing more to offer, and not long before lunch, (Y/N) stepped away from the table to take her leave. “I’ll let you to it then, I’ll see you here in the week, Hermione.” She said, then gave a nod to the group and made her way to the Divination section.

She thought that went relatively well; at least this time they actually talked with her.

With her coat and scarf placed safely on a desk chair, (Y/N) chose a shelf to scour, and began her ascent up the ladders to have a look at the M’s. Perhaps today was a good day to go through Meteoromancy: Secrets in Storms. She did love the sweet lull of thunder.

The Great Hall was decorated beyond (Y/N)’s expectations; snow dusted trees standing twenty feet tall at the front of the room, snowflakes falling from the ceiling only to fade away halfway down, colourful ribbons and garlands hung on the walls, and everything smelt of cinnamon and pine.

It was all very light and bright and colourful… it only made her miss the smooth blacks and blood reds of their tree at home.

At the Slytherin table, (Y/N) sat picking at a bowl of fruit as everyone discussed the holidays; Saoirse was looking forward to returning to her home most of all, telling Millicent all about her dog and how much she’d missed him. (Y/N) wished she was going back to Whitby – the beachside town was so charming in the winter; there were rarely any tourists, the wind was icy cold from the sea breeze, and the famed abbey looked so beautifully haunted covered in snow and salt-ice. The Addams Manor would be decorated with silky blacks, silvers, reds, white, and plum; the tree decorated with skulls and spiderwebs, piles of gifts wrapped in black paper; and the games they would play would bring a smile even to Wednesday’s face (especially when they played autopsy).

There were exclamations of excitement and dozens of owls came flying down from the highest windows carrying letters and packages to their owners, dropping them in their laps. Saoirse, Millicent, and Bridgit tore open their letters eagerly, as (Y/N) waited for Mortis to deliver a letter from her parents.

“I’ll just be a minute,” said Bridgit after a gulp of pumpkin juice, standing with a letter in hand, “this one’s addressed to me and my brother, I need to catch him before he goes to class.” She explained with a huff, turning to find him at the Gryffindor table.

Saoirse leaned across the table to stab her fork into an untouched sausage on Bridgit’s plate, then put her own letter safely in her bag. “What about yours?” She asked Millicent. “That from your parents?”

Millicent nodded, fiddling with the page in her hand. “Yeah, just how they’re looking forward to me going back and all that. Not very long, though.”

A moment later there was a scuffle of wings from the high window as a few owls rushed out of the way, making room for Mortis to fold his enormous wings to fit through, then reopen them again to glide down. He had the usual black envelope in his talons, dropping it for his young mistress to open, and bending his head low for a pat. “Good morning, Mortis.” She greeted him as she dragged an unused knife under the fold of the envelope to reveal the off-white paper inside. “Go get something to eat.” She said, watching him waddle over to a plate of bacon; his walk might have been cute, if it weren’t for the sharp talons that tapped the table with each heavy footfall that showed his weight. With all of the long-distance flights and buffet of foods, he really was getting bigger by the month.

(Y/N) unfolded the pages to read her mother’s swirling black handwriting.

Dear (Y/N),

We understand your desire to stay at Hogwarts with your friend. If you had something to do with the injury, it shows good character that you would agree to make up for it, & for that we are very proud of you. Pugsley would very much like to know more about the injury and how it came about, & if there were any limbs lost or infected wounds. Well, you will be able to tell him yourself. After we received your letter, Wednesday subtly pointed out how Hogsmeade is a popular visit this time of year, & how it isn’t too far from your school – she will deny it to her dying breath, but I believe she misses you more than she’ll admit. But nonetheless, we agree. We have made reservations at the Hog’s Head, & will be arriving on Sunday 22nd and staying until January 5th. As for you, you may stay with us or at Hogwarts with your friend, we can make arrangements for whatever you decide. I’ve included a note for the deputy headmistress in the envelope, if you would please give it to her.

We are all so looking forward to seeing you, Darling. It has been far too long already.

Missing you,

Mother

(Y/N) let out a small sigh; Wednesday might not have been as subtle as she’d said, but her intentions worked out anyway – and her family believed the lie she’d crafted, so all was well.

She folded the letter back into the envelope and took out the page written for McGonnagal, curious to be sure that she hadn’t written anything about the lie, but was relieved to read only about last-minute plans to Hogsmeade. (Y/N) would be glad to deliver it at the end of her Transfiguration class.

A tap on the arm brought (Y/N) back up from the page, seeing Saoirse collect her bag and grab a biscuit. “C’mon, we’ve got Potions.” She said, and (Y/N) noticed she had Millicent’s letter in hand.

“Why do you have that?” She asked as they made their way out of the Hall.

“She left it on the table, I’ll give it to her in class.”

The Dungeons were icy at this time of year, which was no surprise really – actually, what was a surprise was that they let students live down there in the damp and the cold. Their breaths fogged up in the air as they descended the steps and turned down the classroom’s corridor, seeing most students already at their desks, still wearing their robes and gloves. Saoirse gave a quick indication towards Millicent, nodding to (Y/N) as she returned the letter.

Snape entered the classroom with a swish of a cloak, glaring at those left standing around. “Be seated.” He demanded with upturned lips, watching as everyone shuffled to the nearest table. Truly, that man shouldn’t be working with children.

(Y/N) saw a spare seat in the centre-left of the room, where Rahim was sitting alone, and decided to occupy it (seeing as Saoirse had panicked and immediately sat with Millicent). She gave him a nod in greeting, receiving a shy smile in return as she unloaded her textbook, notes, and parchment onto her side of the desk.

“Today we will review the Forgetfulness Potion.” Snape drawled, and if it weren’t for the fact that so many of them were scared of him, many students would be lulled back to sleep by his monotonous voice. “This includes ingredients, directions, effects, cures, and history. Find the page in your textbooks, and I want an essay of at least two feet before the end of class, or you will be finishing an extra foot for homework.” There were a few groans from the back of the room, which he ignored completely. “You’ll do well to pay attention – you will be tested on it at the start of your next term, and it will be included in your final exam at the end of the year, along with the many other potions and ingredients that we cover.”

For a long while, there was near-silence in the room, only the scratching of quills and the low mumbles and whispers of discussions. And as (Y/N) was writing about the effects of the potion (which she was already having a hard time remembering), she felt a cramp in her hand and decided to take a short break.

Rahim was writing quickly, copying a list from his textbook rather efficiently, until he noticed the bored look on his friend’s face as she studied a satisfying lower-case ‘b’ on his paper. “Um… you alright?”

Nodding, (Y/N) continued to rub her hand as she glanced in the direction of their professor, seeing he was busy marking papers with vague disappointment. “Yes, just… in need of a break.” She answered truthfully.

Rahim nodded and straightened himself out, hiding a yawn behind his hand. “Yeah, me too. But at least there’s not long before the holidays.”

(Y/N) hummed, deciding against mentioning how she was staying back. “Yeah, you can finally spend some time away from the library.” She teased, as if she wasn’t in there far more than him.

Humming a laugh, the boy gave her another shy smile, half-hidden by his dark hair. He seemed to be considering something, opening and then closing his mouth hesitantly.

(Y/N) realised that she couldn’t recall ever having a conversation with Rahim alone; they were always accompanied by Saoirse or Hermione. Perhaps that was why he was hesitating – or maybe it just made him all the more shy. “What is it?”

Rahim scrunched his brows slightly, before opting to say what was on his mind. “Well, uh… I was just wonderin’… about them books you’re always reading from the library…” He finally said, fidgeting with his quill and smudging his fingers with the first ink-stains of the day. “They’re just a bit… um… odd… I guess.”

She could tell he was trying very hard not to offend her, which she found very endearing, and was pleased that he was putting such effort into his phrasing. She thought perhaps that he could be trusted with the vague truth; after all, he didn’t have anyone to tell secrets too, other than Saoirse maybe. But (Y/N) was too tired to think up clever lies – it was a skill she’d have to work on. “I received a Message from a spirit, and I’m trying to figure out what to do.” She strategically answered.

To her surprise, Rahim didn’t seem all too shocked by this. Given his quiet nature, she’d expected a bit more of… a reaction. But instead, he seemed to be thinking over her answer seriously. “Spirit? Like a ghost?”

She waved a hand in a ‘sort of’ gesture. “Kind of… but a more dead ghost than a… living... ghost?” She cringed — not so elegantly put.

Rahim thought nothing of the peculiar answer, going along with it in understanding. “Well… where’ve you been lookin’?”

(Y/N) shrugged. “Well, just about everything really. Auramancy, Occulomancy, Tarot, runes… so far I haven’t found anything helpful.”

“And Necromancy wasn’t any help?”

She stopped. For the first time in a while, her brain seemed to stutter and freeze. Necromancy.

Necromancy.

Oh how the hell did she not think of Necromancy?

“Oh… I am such an idiot.” She muttered, massaging her forehead in frustration. It was so obvious now, she seriously questioned where her head had been all this time. “Rahim, it’s extremely rare that I’ll ever say this again, but I owe you one.” (Y/N) said, earning another shy smile from the boy.

She had one last shelf to check in the library.

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hydemenot · 5 months

Text

OLD HABITS DIE HARD — theodore n.

➠ a month may be short for a relationship but it was enough for you to grow into an inescapable habit.

before reading : i just want to clarify that i believe smoking is a big deal and still is a form of addiction no matter how glorified it is. symptoms mentioned below are based on personal experiences so don't be mean.

the sounds of scattering feet fills the cold morning of the first day of the winter inside hogwarts. from the astronomy tower, cheery voices echoed into your ears and left immediately to the other afterwards, somehow adding to your current mellow dramatics: brooding. your robe turned useless to block the freezing air from making contact with your skin. clutching the thick cloth of your jacket, you let your other hand lean onto the cold rail that kept you from tipping over.

winter has come and most students are off to hogsmeade or packing up their bags for their well deserved break. you'd do either one but wallowing in self pity felt more fitting for you. it's been a week or two since your relationship with theodore nott, one of the infamous slytherin in hogwarts, ended and you weren't taking it well. surprisingly, the break up didn't involve crying, screaming, casting crucio on each other than you expected to be; it ended with a single conversation of how theo believed he's in a point in his life at the moment where he couldn't continue caring for himself, let alone for you.

( "can we talk for a second?" theo's hand wraps around yours, pulling you away from the conversation with your friends. "somewhere private, preferably." his words remained nowhere far from a whisper, eyes boring into yours. you're not sure what expression you made but it seems it's enough of a response for theo to just pull you away even further, not even saying a goodbye to the others.

theo pulls you into an empty hallway, making you lean against the wall as softly as he can, like he's afraid of breaking you. it's the same actions he did when you two first got together. your eyebrows furrow in confusion, tightening your grip on his hands. "theo, what's wrong?" you finally ask, rubbing a caring hand on his jaw. he immediately melts but you see the way he stops himself from melting into your touch any further.)

you braced yourself for the worst but somehow the worst still hurts you so much.

an itch on your lips spreads as the breeze begins to nip on your exposed skin. you sighed, knowing what this meant for you. burying your hand inside the pockets of your jacket, you pulled out a half empty box of cigarettes and the lighter you both hid in your luggage. "for a wizarding school, they sure don't have good security for these things," you thought, placing the stick in between your lips.

after lighting the cigar, you immediately took a slow inhale, trying your best not to choke yourself. while the astronomy was the best place for brooding, it's also the number one spot for smokers especially in the foggy winters. puffs of smoke rolled out your lips, releasing it into the air. your eyes watched as the smoke mixed with the fog, holding the cigar in between your index and middle finger.

you never smoked in your life, not even when your muggle friends pressured you into it whenever you'd go home to visit but that's until you met theo. you could still recall the memory of catching theo smoking by the black lake and thinking of how pathetic he was for ruining his own health — you could also remember laughing at yourself at the same memory while theo shotguns you. it used to be just second-hand since he never had any plans to stop no matter how many times you've passive aggressively warned him but then you had a taste and everything seemed to fall into place.

theo, being the hypocrite he is, reprimanded you from smoking, saying something about being the one with the healthy lungs in the relationship. the burning cigarette came in contact with your lips again when you saw enzo and mattheo on their mary way to hogsmeade too. out of instinct, you wondered where theo was. is he just as pathetic as you? probably not, he didn't seem the type to cave into a habit he hated just because it reminded him of his partner.

before you can take your third whiff, the sound of footsteps made you let go of the cigarette, stepping on it to make the burning stop and kick it to the nearest dust bunny. you didn't turn around, you don't know if you should. if it was a teacher, they'd probably just interrogate you for being in the tower and the unusual smell.

"y/n?"

but you're not really sure what to say to your smoker ex-boyfriend. his footsteps got louder the closer he came, placing a hand on your shoulder to make you face him. he looked the same the last time you saw him. you wondered if you looked the same too.

"hey, theo." you greeted him, giving a tired smile, the one that he always described as 'not reaching your eyes'. "i just saw enzo and—"

"were you smoking?" he cuts you off.

you gulped down the saliva building down your throat. "i didn't. you know i hate smoking."

"i thought so too," without warning, his hands entered one of your pockets — unfortunately it was the one with the box of cigarettes. "but apparently not anymore."

you can't help but roll your eyes at his frustrated expression, avoiding to look at anything but his face. "it's not a big deal, theo, you do it all the time. it helps me calm down." in truth, you were embarrassed; you felt ashamed for throwing such a cliché smoker excuse at him. theo's hand that held the box clenched tightly into a fist, destroying the rest of cigars. despite your attempt to hide your disappointment, you unconsciously bit the bottom of your lip at the sight.

"it doesn't matter if i do it all the time. you, out of all people, y/n, shouldn't be doing it." theo's words felt like a knife running across your chest as he emphasized each of his words to you, making sure every single sticks to you. it annoyingly works as tears began brimming at the bottom of your eyes. theo lets go of the crumpled box, putting both hands on each of your shoulder, rubbing calm circles on them. you hadn't realized how tense you were upon getting caught.

theo takes your chin with his thumb and index finger, making you face him. his expression was surprisingly calm, if anything he looked worried. "how long?" he asked all of a sudden.

"what?"

"how long have you been smoking? and how many times?" he repeats himself.

you take a shaking breath, closing your eyes as you answered. "since we broke up," tears finally fall down your cheeks and your voice waives even worse. "i finish 3 a day." the realization hits you like a truck now that you've said it out loud. theo's expression doesn't change, watching you tremble under his hands. you wanted to bury yourself six feet under, away from the boy you love. the shame, the unsaid guilt and betrayal you felt towards theo was overwhelming. if it weren't for theo engulfing you in such a tight embrace you swore you would have fallen.

"i'm sorry, theo. i'm sorry." you whimpered in between sobs. "i didn't know what else to do. i'm sorry."

theo runs his fingers through your hair, it was his way of calming you down. "i know you are, baby. it's okay, it's not your fault." despite your emotions rampaging inside your brain, you were able to tell just what theo meant by his words. "i shouldn't have left you—"

"no, theo. you're allowed to break up with me, to take care of yourself before taking care of another person. i understand you, theo, i truly do. this is all because of me being pathetic." you were glad you managed to say everything without stuttering, tightening your grip around theo's body. "i was just lost. for a moment. not anymore."

you felt theo's hair brush against your ears, telling you that he was leaning his forehead against your shoulder. it was silent for a moment and you eventually started to calm down before he spoke again. "i love you, y/n. don't blame yourself for being human."

"and don't blame yourself for loving me. i love you too, theo, so fucking much."

#theodore nott #lorenzo zurzolo #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott x you #theodore nott x y/n #golden era #marauders era

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