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magiclostinfantasy · 4 months

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Blind Date || Theodore Nott x Reader

Warnings: swearing, Draco trying to play matchmaker Summary: Y/N and Theo's friends set them up on a blind date, not knowing they've secretly been dating. <><><><><><><><><> The dim glow of Madam Pudifoot's teashop enveloped the small, intricately decorated table where Theodore Nott and Y/N L/N found themselves seated. The atmosphere was filled with the scent of freshly baked pastries and the soft murmur of whispered conversations. It was a setup, a blind date orchestrated by their well-meaning, yet slightly misguided friends.

Unbeknownst to them, the couple in question had been keeping a secret for the past year. A secret that bound them together in a well concealed relationship, away from the prying eyes of their fellow students. As Theo sipped his tea, his eyes met Y/N's, and a burst of laughter escaped them both. The absurdity of the situation hit them like a spell gone awry, and the tension that typically accompanied blind dates dissipated into the air.

The teashop patrons looked over at the unexpected outburst, eyebrows raised in curiosity. Theo and Y/N, however, couldn't contain their laughter. Theo wiped away a tear that had formed in the corner of his eye, and Y/N's smile widened, a sparkle of mischief in her eyes.

"Fucking hell, this is not what I expected," Y/N shook her head in amusement.

"Neither did I, love." Theo agreed, his laughter subsiding into a warm smile.

"Clearly, those idiots don't know us as well as they think they do," Y/N replied, chuckling. "But it's kind of sweet, in a mischievous sort of way."

Theo nodded, his eyes gleaming. "How about we head somewhere more… comfortable?"

Y/N smirked, playfully raising an eyebrow. "I know just the place."

Leaving Madam Pudifoot's behind, the two Slytherins strolled through the dimly lit streets of Hogsmeade, the cool night air turning their cheeks a deeper red. As they approached the warm glow of the Three Broomsticks, Theo couldn't help but press a kiss to Y/N’s forehead. He recalled stolen moments and shared laughter that had been kept a secret from their friends.

Finding a cozy corner booth in the Three Broomsticks, Theo and Y/N settled in. The atmosphere was lively, with the sounds of clinking glasses and cheerful banter filling the air. They ordered butterbeer and raised their glasses in a silent toast to the peculiar turn of events that had brought them to the popular wizarding pub.

Meanwhile, their friends back at Madam Puddifoot's had realized the unintended consequences of their matchmaking adventures. Draco Malfoy, the mastermind behind the blind date scheme, furrowed his brow in confusion as he watched Theo and Y/N leave the teashop together.

"Shit, did we miss something?" Pansy asked, glancing around at the other friends who were equally perplexed.

Blaise shook his head, a smirk playing on his lips. "Seems like our Slytherin lovebirds have their own plans."

Back at the Three Broomsticks, as Theo and Y/N continued to enjoy each other's company, a group of familiar faces burst through the door. The Slytherins looked around, spotting the couple in the corner booth. The surprise on their faces quickly morphed into amusement.

"Well, well, well, look who we have here," Mattheo teased, a sly grin playing on his face. "Our little Slytherin lovebirds on a secret rendezvous."

Theo and Y/N exchanged amused glances before bursting into laughter once again. It seemed their friends had unwittingly orchestrated a reunion rather than a blind date.

"We've been dating for a year you fucking idiots." Theo exclaimed, wrapping his arm around a giggling Y/N.

Draco raised an eyebrow, a smirk forming on his lips. "Well, we might need to brush up on our matchmaking skills."

Pansy raised a brow at him. “Bitch, you mean you need to brush up on your matchmaking skills.”

The group rolled their eyes as Draco and Pansy continued bickering. Squeezing in, they all joined the couple in their booth and The Three Broomsticks became a backdrop for the Slytherins.

Amidst the shared laughter and clinking of glasses, Enzo raised his butterbeer in a toast. "To unexpected surprises and these two lovey-dovey pieces of shit!" He winked at them.

The sentiment was met with cheers and smiles from the group. Theo and Y/N exchanged a glance, their hearts swelling up.

As the night drew to a close, the group left the Three Broomsticks. Theo and Y/N walked side by side, their fingers entwined, grateful for the unexpected turn of events that had brought their hidden relationship into the open.

The moon hung high in the sky as they made their way back to Hogwarts, the castle standing tall against the night. Theo squeezed Y/N's hand, and they exchanged a silent understanding that their secret was now a shared treasure among their friends.

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7s3ven · 5 months

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LAST CHRISTMAS. tom riddle

( master list )

IN WHICH… Tom can’t fall in love, he shouldn’t be able to fall in love. So why does he love Y/N L/N with her yellow robes, doe eyes, and her obsession with snow so much that he’d kill anyone in his path to get to her?

Minor warnings : Not proof-read, kind of long, dark Tom Riddle, somewhat yandere

—

“It may be hard to believe, but there was a time where Voldemort loved someone. He was young… barely eighteen. He loved her so much… that he would kill for her. So he did. He killed every boy interested in her and every girl who tormented her. And then he turned on her. Nobody knows what happened to sweet Y/N L/N. Maybe he killed her, maybe she got away… or maybe she stayed with him and let him taint her heart.

He was a boy who knew nothing of real love while she was a girl who wanted nothing but that.”

Tom couldn’t fall in love. He physically shouldn’t be able to fall in love. He wouldn’t let himself to fall in love. He would not allow himself that wretched moment of weakness his peers all seemed to suffer from.

Every day it was always, “Riddle, will you go out with me?” His answer was always no yet these lovesick girls never learned. They all flocked to him like annoying seagulls to a single, lonely chip.

“Excuse me,” A hand suddenly tapped Tom’s shoulder. He turned around, almost glowering at the girl in front of him. Before he could reject her, she spoke up. “You, uh, left this, Riddle.”

Of course, she knew his name but he didn’t know her’s.

She held out Tom’s precious diary and he was quick to snatch it out of her grip. He observed it, narrowing his eyes slightly before he subtly nodded. “Thank… you…” The words felt strange rolling off his tongue. He had never thanked anybody. He hesitated because he didn’t know her name.

“Y/N L/N.” She uttered, smiling.

“What?”

“My name is Y/N L/N. You seemed confused… so I thought you didn’t know me.”

Tom’s eyes flickered to the prefect badge pinned proudly to her robe. He arched an eyebrow. “You… you’re a prefect?” He questioned. He had never seen her at the meetings, which was strange because he noticed everyone.

“Yeah. Head girl.” Y/N beamed again, hardly offended by the fact that Tom didn’t know her despite them being counterparts.

Tom found it strange how he didn’t know her. He was supposed to considering she was the head girl. Tom observed her, staring at Y/N’s Hufflepuff uniform and the yellow ribbons intertwined with her braided hair.

“Right.” Tom muttered, clearing his throat.

“It was a pleasure talking to you, Riddle. I’ll see you around.” Y/N was the first to walk away. Tom wasn’t used to that because normally, he did that. He stared at Y/N’s back, eyebrows furrowed slightly.

Everybody was frightened by Tom’s cold demeanour, but not Y/N. She had approached him so casually without a second thought.

Tom shook his head, sighing under his breath. “Hufflepuffs.”

The next time Tom stumbled upon Y/N was when she had been cornered by three Slytherin girls. He recognized the ringleader as the girl he had rejected last week.

“Stay away from Tom.” The silver-haired girl grumbled, invading Y/N’s personal space. Y/N didn’t seem at all phased. She just smiled as she stared into the girl’s bright blue eyes.

“I’m sorry, who are you?” Y/N questioned, innocently tilting her head to the side.

“Just stay away from Tom, got it?” The Slytherin girl repeated, her glare hardening.

Tom cleared his throat from behind the trio, making his presence known. “Is there a problem here?” He asked, arching an eyebrow.

The trio of Slytherin girls instantly recognized his voice. “Riddle!” The ringleader exclaimed, jumping. She nervously smiled. “We were just helping L/N here. She needed help with… uh…” She trailed off, her eyes wildly darting around.

“Her makeup!” One of her friends piped up, “She likes a boy and wanted our help!”

The third girl quickly nodded and grabbed Y/N by the shoulders, pushing her forward. “Isn’t she pretty? Imagine how pretty she would be with makeup!”

Tom’s stare hardened. He glanced down at Y/N, his lips pressed into a thin line. “She’s pretty enough as is.” He spoke, reaching out to grasp a strand of Y/N’s hair. “Well, I’ll be needing her. Prefect business, you understand?” Tom ripped Y/N from the girl’s grasp and led her down the long, winding hallway.

“Do you always have to deal with those pests?” Tom questioned, looking at Y/N once more.

“They aren’t that bad. They were worse in first year.” She smiled but that didn’t comfort Tom.

“You shouldn’t let them push you around. I’ll talk to them and make sure they never bother you again.” Tom furrowed his eyebrows.

“Oh, you don’t have to do that.” Y/N uttered, but Tom didn’t hear her. He was already walking off, his hands shoved deep into his pockets. Y/N frowned. “I hope he doesn’t kill them… he looks like the type.”

Y/N sighed, shaking her head. “No. He wouldn’t murder anybody. He’s the head boy.” She walked off in the opposite direction, quietly humming under her breath, unknown to the horrors Tom was committing with his damn pet snake.

Y/N strutted into the Great Hall, ready to eat dinner and gossip about useless things with her friends. But when she approached her companions, she was overwhelmed with their questions.

“Y/N, did you hear about the attacks?”

“I heard those three Slytherin bullies were targeted.”

“Well, they kind of deserved it. It’s not like they’re fully dead. They’re just stone.”

Y/N sat down, confused. “What happened?” And asked, tilting her head to the side.

Bella was the first to explain. “You know those three Slytherin girls who are always picking on you? They were all found turned to stone.” She looked around to make sure nobody was listening before she leaned forward and whispered, “The professors say it wasn’t a hex so they don’t really know what to do.”

“Oh… that’s…” Y/N couldn’t muster up any words. She glanced over at Tom, who was drinking out of his golden goblet. He locked eyes with her and his lips twisted into a cruel smirk.

“Did they find the perpetrator?” Y/N questioned, looking at Bella.

“No. I heard a few students talking about some sort of chamber but I wasn’t close enough to hear anything else.”

For the rest of dinner, Y/N was distracted by the way Tom kept glancing over at her. She felt a sick feeling in her stomach and she tried to convince herself that Tom played no part in this whole mess.

“I think I’m going to go to bed early.” Y/N stiffly smiled as she drank the last of her water from her cup.

Y/N quickly stood up, speed-walking out of hall. She heard someone following her and she spun around, hoping it wasn’t Tom. Luckily, it wasn’t.

It was a Gryffindor boy with messy black hair and stunning blue eyes. He grinned at her. “Y/N L/N, right?”

She slowly nodded.

“Listen, I’ve been interested in you for a while and I don’t want you to feel inclined to accepting my offer, but I would love if you would come to Hogsmeade with me.”

Y/N awkwardly smiled. “Ah, sorry, I’m a little busy. Maybe next time?” She suggested, trying to brush past the boy. But he grasped her wrist

“Are you sure?” He asked.

“You heard her the first time. She’s busy.” Tom had walked to stand behind the boy, towering over him with a mean glare.

“Right.” The Gryffindor thickly swallowed, “I’ll be on my way, then.” He scurried off, almost tripping over his robes.

“You didn’t have to scare him off.” Y/N murmured as she spared Tom a look before resuming her walk to the Hufflepuff common room. Tom followed after her, which unsettled Y/N.

She should have been placed in Gryffindor with how brave she was to eventually confront Tom. “What did you do with those Slytherin girls?” She softly inquired.

She heard Tom chuckle. “I didn’t do anything. Trust me.”

“It’s a bit hard to trust you when you smirked at me like that.” Y/N furrowed her eyebrows.

“I never touched those girls. I merely gave them a warning before leaving them. And next thing I know, they were turned to stone. Some Ravenclaw first year found them.”

Y/N stared into Tom’s eyes, looking for any indication that he was lying. It was a bit hard to read him considering he barely had any emotions. But there was a gleam in his usually blank eyes.

“Okay.” She whispered, despite not fully believing him.

Tom had ended up walking Y/N to her common room and she politely nodded. “Good night, Riddle.”

“Call me Tom. Good night, Y/N.”

Rowan, the poor Gryffindor boy who had asked Y/N out, was the next target. Though, he wasn’t found turned to stone. His body was entirely mutilated and Y/N took pity on the third year girl who had discovered his body in the bathroom.

Y/N sat with Bella, pushing her food around on her silver plate. On instinct, she glanced at Tom. He had that same infuriating smirk and this time, he slightly raised his goblet. His actions made his friends laugh.

“I’m leaving for class early. See you at lunch, Bella.”

Her friend hummed, too busy staring at a boy from across the room to notice Y/N’s uneasiness.

Y/N stiffened as she saw Tom stand up out of the corner of her eye. She tried to speed walk away but he easily caught up to her.

“What did you do do him?” She asked, referring to Rowan. He had no enemies and Tom was the only person Y/N could think of. After all, the head boy hadn’t seemed too pleased to see Y/N talking with Rowan.

“Accusing me again? There’s an actual murderer on the loose and instead, you’re pointing fingers at me?” Tom let out a small scoff while Y/N silently stared up at him. “I’m head boy. Do you really think I would decapitate a body?”

“Nobody said anything about the body being decapitated.”

“I saw it. As head boy, I was at the scene.”

Y/N narrowed her eyes while Tom mentally cursed at his mistake. Hufflepuffs were usually easy to gaslight, but not Y/N. And that annoyed Tom.

“They’re still observing the body but I wouldn’t be walking alone if I were you. This attacker seems to be targeting people who are,” Tom took a step closer to Y/N, “All alone.”

Tom cunningly grinned as he shrugged. “Enjoy your walk, Y/N.”

Y/N didn’t want to take any chances with Tom since he was her prime suspect. But if he was the murderer, why wasn’t she his next victim? She was alone and the castle was deserted. Now would be the perfect time.

Tom chuckled as the cogs in Y/N’s head started moving. He was going to strut away from the Hufflepuff but Y/N was quick to grab his sleeve.

“Walk me to class.” She demanded. For the first time in a long time, Tom felt his cheeks heat up. And strange enough, he felt a jolt of lightning pass through his body when Y/N’s grasped him.

He concealed those odd emotions. “With pleasure.”

Potions was their first class. Usually, Gryffindors and Slytherins were put together but this year the school decided to mix it up. Classes were now decided on a student’s academic record. And lucky for Tom, all of his courses were with Y/N. Never had he been so glad that one of his peers had almost beaten him for the spot of top student.

Y/N tried to sit away from Tom but he dragged her to a table near his friends. She nervously sat down, tapping her foot against the floor.

She could feel someone burning holes into her back with their glare and Y/N looked over her shoulder, locking eyes with a Ravenclaw girl. She sneered at Y/N.

The H/C-haired teenager slowly turned her head to look at her textbook, but her peace was short lived when a cauldron came crashing down on her head.

It hit her with such force that her head jolted forward and slammed against the wooden table. A sickening crack was heard and the class went silent.

Tom and his friends were the first to react. Avery lifted Y/N and helped her sit up. Her nose was heavily bleeding and the crimson liquid dribbled down her chin, staining the pages of her new and crisp book.

Malfoy held his hands underneath her chin to catch most of the blood while Avery dapped at Y/N’s nose with the sleeve of his robe.

Rosier grabbed the cauldron, slamming it back down in front of the Ravenclaw. At that very moment, Professor Slughorn entered.

He observed the bizarre scene, effortlessly piecing everything together. “Tom, my boy, please escort Miss L/N to the hospital wing. You may bring Mr Avery and Mr Malfoy with you. Rosier, Mulciber, Nott, Lestrange, I want a full explanation of what happened.” Slughorn turned to the Ravenclaw, “Miss Li, I will also require your explanation.”

Hyehi Li, the girl who had thrown the cauldron at Y/N’s head, was gone. She was found by the Ravenclaw Quidditch up on the roof, impaled onto a sharp spear. The students of Hogwarts were growing restless. Parents wanted to collect their kids but the murderer could be anybody, staff or student. Therefore, it was imperative that the professors worked fast to track the attacker down.

Y/N sat in her dorm, thinking to herself. All of the people attacked were connected to her. The three Slytherin girls had bullied her, Rowan had somewhat flirted with her, and Hyehi had injured Y/N. And Tom was there to witness all three incidents.

There wasn’t anybody else who could be doing these things. Y/N was also aware of Tom’s fascination with the dark arts.

It was Christmas Eve and since the school couldn’t technically hold the students in the castle over the holiday, they had no choice but to let them go.

Y/N’s parents were on a trip right now, so she had to stay behind. Not many students wanted to stay at Hogwarts, but Y/N knew Tom and his posse would be roaming the halls.

She was nervous to walk out of the common room, but she was hungry, even at this time when it was close to midnight, and the kitchen was so close.

“L/N!” A voice Y/N didn’t recognize suddenly called out. She turned around, watching a Slytherin boy jog towards her. She recognized him as a year below her.

“Ah… you shouldn’t be talking to me, it’s not safe.” Y/N had come to the conclusion that any boy or girl who teased or flirted with her was in serious trouble if Tom ever found in.

“Why? I just wanted to say happy Christmas Eve. And thanks for helping me with my homework this year. I don’t know what I would’ve done without you.”

Y/N stiffly smiled and nodded her head. “You’re welcome. Good bye.” Y/N wanted to leave but the boy blocked her path.

“Do you have anybody to celebrate Christmas with? You’re always welcome in the Slytherin common room. Riddle seems to have taken a liking to you.”

Speak of the devil, Y/N could hear Avery’s loud laughs from just around the corner. And where Avery was, Tom and his friends were sure to follow.

Y/N’s eyes slightly widened. “Please leave me alone… for your sake.” She whispered, trying to brush past him. But the boy didn’t seem to sense the urgency in Y/N’s voice as he grabbed her shoulder just as Tom came into sight.

A feeling of dread overcame Y/N as Tom approached the pair. “Onyx.” He greeted the boy by the last name. “What business do you have with Y/N?”

Onyx, as oblivious as ever, smiled. “I was just thanking her for helping me. And I was going to invite her to spend Christmas in the Slytherin chamber.”

Tom narrowed his eyes as he slowly nodded. “… I see. We’ll have to finish decorating the tree then. Come on.” Tom guided Onyx with a firm hand on his back. Y/N’s breath trembled and finally having had enough of being connected to all the murders, she silently followed Tom and his friends and Onyx.

There was a loud bang and as Y/N peeked around the corner, she almost gasped. Avery, the supposed sweet boy who had helped her with her bloody nose, had just knocked Onyx out cold.

“Let’s get this over with quickly. I have some matters to attend to.” Tom pulled out his wand, pointing the tip at Onyx. “Avada Kedavra.” There was a blinding flash of green light and then all was still.

Y/N stumbled back. She quickly sprinted off, making sure to be quiet and not leave anything behind. She burst into the Hufflepuff common room and began to wildly knock on every door.

“Why is no one here?!” She exclaimed, pounding her fist against the wall. “The headmaster and Slughorn are gone too! And Dumbledore- Wait, I can tell Dumbledore!”

She rushed to the exit but crashed into a tall figure. She fell back, hitting her head.

“You didn’t think you would actually get away, did you?” It was just Tom this time. His friends were nowhere to be seen.

Y/N scrambled back but Tom easily outstretched a hand, grabbing her collar and pulling her up. “I got you a gift.” He said, handing Y/N a narrowly wrapped present as soon as the clock struck midnight.

“If it’s part of a body, I don’t want it.”

Tom merely smiled. “Open it and find out.”

Y/N opened the lid a tiny bit, jumping when she saw a pure white snake inside. It hissed and bared it’s sharp fangs at her.

“Sweet dreams, amour.” Tom uttered, stepping forward and knocking the present out of Y/N’s grasp. The box fell and the snake swiftly slithered over to Y/N’s ankle. “I love you.”

He harshly pressed his lips to Y/N’s just as the snake opened its mouth and sank its fangs into her flesh.

“Is this really the best way to do it?” Avery questioned as him and Lestrange pulled a wooden plank from their dorm floor. “We could just hide her dead body in a closet. Though, eventually, her corpse is going to rot and stink.”

Tom, from his position on his bed, tilted his head to the side. “Who said anything about her being dead?”

Nott arched an eyebrow and laughed. “She’s not actually alive, is she? Because stuffing her in there would be cruel.”

“Since when did you care about being cruel?” Tom retorted, “To be honest, I’m not actually sure whether she’s dead or not. I checked her pulse and there was none but her heart is still beating. It’s… strange. And fascinating.”

Tom’s lips curled into a smirk.

Y/N was shoved beneath the floor boards right next to Tom’s bed. He lay down, closing his eyes and listening to the dull thumping beat of Y/N’s heart.

All that happened last year. Y/N’s body was never found and Hogwarts lost a bright student. Tom’s friends could never hear Y/N’s heartbeat but Tom could.

He heard it at night when he was cramming in some late night study.

He heard it when he was kissing another girl in his bed and it reminded him of who his heart belonged to.

He heard it as he descended into a dark madness that not even Dumbledore could stop.

And he heard it as he yelled the very same spell he had yelled at Onyx on that fateful night at Harry Potter. Up in the castle, Y/N’s body still lay shoved deep under.

As Tom Riddle, now known as Voldemort, faded into nothing, he could hear Y/N’s heartbeat get louder and louder and he was reminded of what he had done to the sweet Hufflepuff.

That was her last Christmas and she had spent it under the floor, dead but not fully, never to be found or seen or heard from again.

“Last Christmas, I gave you my heart… but the very next day you stuffed it underneath the floorboards with the rest of my corpse until the sound of my heartbeat intensified your descent into madness.”

#tom riddle #harry potter x reader #hogwarts houses #slytherin #hufflepuff #gryffindor #ravenclaw #tom riddle x reader #voldemort #lord voldemort #hogwarts legacy #hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry #xreader #malfoy manor #draco malfoy #ron weasley #harry potter fanfiction

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mysticmoaning · 10 months

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Tension II - rab

Description:

Regulus decides to apologise and you accept in a very gracious way.

Warnings:

Big angst / Use of 'mudblood' / Fingers in V / V Penetration / Virgin!Regulus

A/N:

This is not what I originally planned for this part two, but I guess that can be expected after such a long time between, sorry!!! I hope you enjoy the Big Feelings, Sad Boi Regulus, and Virgin!Regulus. Sorry about the ending, I want to keep this going cause I have some ideas and it was necessary unfortunately.

After your experience on the train, Regulus had become all but non-existent in your life. Your meeting with the muggle-born first years (where he gritted out the speech he left you to write and practically spat on the new wizard and witches' abilities) was the last time you'd seen him, save for the occasional glimpse around Hogwarts.

Whatever. You had better things to do than fool around with such a close-minded prick like him. No matter that the feeling of your own fingers had become a shadow compared to the memory of his scissoring inside you. Fuck...

Stop. You'd get over him eventually. It's not like you liked him, you just...no.

You tried to focus on detangling the knots in your hair as you yanked it out of its bun, wincing at your accidental aggressiveness. It was just your luck that you'd had a quidditch match today. Regulus had been wearing those tight pants under his quidditch robes and your thoughts had drifted towards how difficult it would be to slip your hand down them, costing you a goal.

Lost in the memory, you didn't hear the footsteps until whoever was right behind you. You jumped, having stayed late to have the place to yourself and wondering who the hell had come to disturb you. At the sight of Regulus, you gasped.

"What are you doing here?" You snapped.

He looked ghostly pale, his damp hair combed back and beginning to curl. Noticing his uniform, you realised you were in your bra and underwear, believing everyone to have vacated the showers.

Good. Maybe you could make him squirm.

His eyes flickered down your body before resting on the floor, his cheeks quickly growing red. He shoved his hands in his pants pockets and you smirked in understanding as to why. Well, he couldn't deny his attraction to you.

"Why the nerves, Black? Thought you hated me..." You turned to put your brush down on the bench beside you, head quickly swivelling back when you heard him mumble something under his breath. "What?"

He glanced up, eyes catching on your lacy bra before meeting yours. A muscle in his jaw twitched.

"I said, I don't hate you."

You stared in disbelief. What was he on about?

"Merlin, you had me fooled." You stood, taking a step towards him with your hands on your hips. "Pushing me away as soon as your fingers left my pussy," his adam's apple bobbed nervously and he glanced away, "Then ignoring me for the past two weeks like nothing even happened. And don't think I didn't understand your nastiness with the muggle-born first years being meant for me."

He looked at you then, eyes flicking between your own. His lips parted and then closed. A pink flash of tongue wet them, the fresh shine giving you thoughts of other ways he could use them.

Fuck, why was it so hard to be around him?

He sighed deeply, ran a hand through his hair, and then sat defeatedly on the bench behind him. You nearly asked if he was alright but held your ground.

"I-" He glanced at you before fixing his gaze on the tile, apparently the only way he could say whatever it was that was bothering him. "I don't hate you. And....and I'm sorry."

You stared at him hard, in shock. Had a Black ever said sorry in their lifetime? Sitting back down was the only response you could muster.

The corner of his mouth quirked like he understood your confusion before quickly resuming its downward position. The wrinkles already forming on either side made it clear he was used to the expression.

"Listen, I...I was embarrassed." He glanced at you quickly before looking away. "I'm....I've never...I had never..."

"You're a virgin?" The words left your mouth before you could stop them. He gave an almost imperceptible nod. What were you hearing right now? You had your suspicions but never in a million years did you think them to be true. Just looking at him, you couldn't process that no one had tried to get close enough to him to get him into bed.

Flashing back over the memory from the train, certain things began to jump out at you. His nervousness. How he thought you were in pain when you threw your head back in pleasure. The way he groaned into your shoulder when you....

"Holy shit, you came!" You didn't mean to practically yell it, your hand flying over your mouth.

His eyes were round saucers as he stared at you, cheeks growing impossibly red.

"Y/N, please..." The shine in his eyes made you freeze. "Please don't tell anyone."

You moved to sit beside him.

"Regulus, why would I tell anyone?" His head was in his hands now. He glanced over at you.

"What do you want?" You furrowed your brow in confusion. He studied your face for a moment. "You're not going to tell..." You shook your head, "So what do you want in return?"

"What?" You couldn't understand his thought process for a moment. Then it clicked. Everyone in his life always wanted something in return for treating him with decency. Nothing came free for him...

You had always been conflicted about Regulus. A shitty family can't totally excuse bad behaviour, but this...Merlin, fitting in with his family was about survival. Sirius had gotten out, sure, but you'd never heard anything about him trying to help Regulus. His only connection to a better, less hateful world had left him behind.

"Regulus," You slide your fingers into his, pulling his hand away from his face and into your lap. He looked at you and then away, obviously waiting for the other shoe to drop. "I don't want anything from you. I'm not going to tell anyone because that's our private business and no one else deserves to know. That's the least you deserve."

He glanced back at you, eyes flickering over the details of your face. His lips silently mimed 'our' and the corners of his mouth started to curve upwards.

You couldn't help it, all the tension from the past two weeks, the anger, and this loaded conversation, wore down your resolve. Plus, you were beginning to think maybe you didn't hate Regulus after all.

You kissed him, his lips just as soft and welcoming as on the train. He involuntarily moaned into your mouth and you smiled.

His fingers, impossibly gentle, ghosted over your exposed thigh. You angled yourself towards him and moved his hand around to your hip. He pulled away with a soft gasp, eyes searching your face.

"I don't know..."

You paused immediately, gripping his hand in yours and holding it chastely away from your body.

"We don't have to do anything, Reg. I want you to be comfortable."

He shook his head quickly, a smile like sunshine lighting his face and making your stomach flip. "No, I want to. Merlin, do I want to..." His thick brows knitted a cloud that cast a shadow over his face. "It's just...since I've never...I don't know how long I'm going to last. I mean, you didn't even touch me last time and..."

He looked to you shyly.

"Hey," You moved his hand back to your hip and his eyes tracked the movement, darkening as his skin made contact with the plump flesh just briefly covered by the band of your underwear. "We all have to start somewhere."

This time, he leaned in to connect your lips. You revelled in this subtle show of confidence and the way he flicked his tongue against yours.

"You're so beautiful," He whispered against your lips, his fingers teasing the edges of your underwear. "I've always thought so."

You pulled away enough to look into his eyes, realising suddenly that they were the deepest of blues, not black like you thought. He stared back, a nervous smile on his lips.

You studied his face. His lashes were thick like his brows, black and shadowy around his eyes. He had pinprick freckles over his nose and on the highest points of his cheeks. The bow of his lips was so perfectly formed you couldn't help but lean in to kiss him again.

He kissed back, more firmly this time. You felt the heat too, the urgency that was beginning to rise between you. His fingers dug into your hip and you sighed into his mouth in response. He took this as a good sign, moving his hand around to palm at your ass. You put your hand over his and squeezed so he'd grab you, not giving him the time to question as you slung one leg over his to straddle him.

He stared at you in awe and you felt the bulge in his pants harden further. You held his face in your hands, fingers spread over his cheeks, and ground your hips into him. His eyes rolled back with his head as he groaned out at the feeling.

"Is this okay?" You confirmed and his hands flew to your hips, gripping tightly.

"Merlin, yes," He just managed to slit his eyes to look at you, pupils blown so you could hardly see the rim of blue around them. You smirked down at him, keeping your eyes locked on his as you began to unzip his pants and pull him out of his boxers. He cursed as you gripped him in your hand, gently beginning to stroke him. "Fuck, I don't know that I'm even going to make it inside you, Y/N."

You laughed as he quirked his lips, smiling apologetically.

Deciding not to tease him any further, you slipped your underwear to the side and ran the head of his cock quickly through your dripping folds. Regulus cried out at the feeling but you swallowed the sound with your mouth, kissing him as you slowly lowered yourself onto him.

You moaned as his considerable girth stretched you out, his own sounds of pleasure already signalling that he was close. Rocking slowly against his hips, you focused on the friction of your clit rubbing against him. He gripped your hips so hard you were sure he'd leave bruises and you knew he was using all of his self control not to cum.

You quickened your pace and he gasped into your mouth. Pulling away, you moved your lips to his ear, giving a soft bite to shell of it. He groaned and his hands moved down to your thighs, still holding on like his life depended on it.

"Let go, Reg. I wanna hear how good it feels." You whispered into his ear. The flutter of your breath on his neck and the words you spoke sent him quickly careening over the edge.

"Fuck, Y/N!" He cried out, his head thrown back as his cock twitched inside of you with each thick stream of cum. You kissed along his exposed neck, slowing your movements as his quick, heavy breaths began to calm.

When he was nearly recovered, he raised his head to look at you, his cheeks flushed. He moved his hand between your bodies and rubbed his thumb over your clit, making you gasp.

"Shit, Reg, you don't-" He caught your lips in his, bucking his hips up gently as he rubbed generous circles on your clit. You moaned into him, his still-hard cock thrusting into you making the fire that already burned in your belly begin to spread.

He started to kiss your exposed chest, sucking at the skin of your breasts. When he began to soften inside you, he quickly replaced himself with the fingers of his other hand, working them faster until you were a cursing mess on top of him.

Momentarily abandoning your clit, he used his free hand to pull down half your bra, latching onto the exposed nipple with his tongue and bringing you to your breaking point.

You cried out his name as you rocked through your orgasm, falling onto him and trying to regain your breath once the waves of pleasure passed.

Finally, you pulled yourself up to look Regulus in the eyes. He smiled softly, cheeks still pink in pleasure.

His brows rose slightly, lips parting to expose a sliver of his perfect, white teeth. You moved off him and he quickly zipped himself up while you fixed your bra.

"So..." He began, nervous once again, his fingers playing with the sleeve of his sweater. "This doesn't mean anything, right?"

You stared at him in disbelief. What? His features began to darken, his eyes trained on the floor again.

"I can't...." He swallowed. "I can't be anything to you. I mean, my parents can't know. No one can know..." He trailed off softly.

"What?" You were growing angry. What did that mean? "God, Regulus, seriously? Since I'm not some close-minded, pureblood scumbag you can't be associated with me? Fuck off."

He stood quickly and moved towards you while you hurried to get dressed.

"Y/N, I can't. You don't understand-"

"I don't understand?"

"No, I've got...responsibilities. You don't-"

He cut himself off with a gasp as you stepped to him and yanked up his sleeve, revealing the offensive black ink branded into his skin. "What don't I understand, Regulus? I think it's perfectly clear. I don't fit into your tiny, fucked up world. You can't play the perfect Death Eater for mommy and daddy and fuck a dirty mudblood at the same time. Does that about sum it up?"

You stormed out before he could answer, ignoring the pain in your chest and the tears beginning to spill over onto your cheeks.

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warnersister · 10 months

Text

Tom Riddle x Reader

Tom Riddle x Pregnant! Reader

Warnings + Summary: Tom being a nicer version of Tom, old fashioned views, non-con pregnancy, teen pregnancy, arranged marriages, dom / sub dynamic, controlling / possessive Tom, toxic Tom

Fucked. That’s the only word you could use to describe the situation you were in - you were totally and utterly fucked. Whatever were you going to do? You paced back and forth in your dormitory as the thoughts and questions weaved and wrapped around the many veins of your brain which were now becoming apparent to you that they were useless in their entirety. How could you be so stupid? So reckless? You bit your nails anxiously - walking in your room for a good twenty minutes still unable to come to an educated conclusion.

You were pregnant and you had no fucking clue about what to do about it.

You’re a seventh year, potentially your most significant point of wizarding school. But you’re seventeen, a year off of being an adult. And unmarried adult - what would your parents think? A child outside of wedlock would be blasphemous! They’d disown you! And Tom - oh Merlin, what about Tom?

You and Tom had a rocky relationship as it is. He’s too domineering and charming and you’re too conforming and feisty to say no go him. It was like cat and mouse if the mouse laid down in the cats dinner plate and handed it cutlery. Tom rules your life by his own means and you felt it was okay to let him, after all what harm could come by it?

This. This harm. Tom had told you of his plans to rule the wizarding world and you had just nodded along, not thinking anything of it. But a child? He’d kill if! He’d kill you. You were going to die. Oh dear god you’ll be dead my morning if you told him.

“Hey- hey! Are you alright?” Your dorm mate asked. You hadn’t even heard her enter your shared room, but as soon as you heard her soothing and concerned tone you broke down into her arms crying. “I’m pregnant, Darla.” You told her between sobs and she reassured you as he caressed your back gently. “Is it Riddles?” She asks when your tears dry and you nod into her shoulder. “He’s no father. He’s hardly a partner. I allow him to control me but there is no way I’d allow him anywhere near a baby, regardless of whether or not it was his.” You say, angrily. “And I’m guessing he is unaware?” She asked and you nod. “Only just found out.” She understood but explained to you how you’d have to tell him. It was ethically and morally correct to inform the father of a child of his position and future.

You’d avoided Tom and his ominous stares for a few days now. But you could feel his eyes baring into your skull, reading your mind. You knew he was eyeing you and your untouched plate of food at breakfast and unusual concoctions that were boarder line criminal at dinner. You knew you were unable to avoid him forever, after all he had made it clear that he was in charge.

“Just what do you think you’re doing?” A voice asked, pushing you against the cold stone wall of an empty corridor. You looked into those death grey eyes and said nothing, attempting to wriggle out of his hold. “Stay still. Don’t you dare try to run away from me.” He threatened. “Fuck off, Tom.” You say, fighting back and you could’ve sworn he’d given you a shocked smirk. “Excuse me? Who do you think you’re talking to? Need I remind you that I own you, princess.” He hissed into your ear as he leans down to your height.

Tears begin to form in your eyes and he surveys your face without any changing emotion. “Talk to me. Now.” You inhaled deeply before glancing between the floor and his eyes. “I’m pregnant.” You say, voice barely above a whisper and it feels as if the world stops - you are shaking, body shutting down as it prepares for all the ungodly torturous and murderous spells you had seen him unleash on his other victims, it was only a matter of time until you became one, also.

Yet he smiled. Thomas Marvolo Riddle smiled. Something you had never seen before. Everything was going according to plan, he thought. He’d spent many sunrises and sunsets trying to convince you to be by his side while he brought his fascist views into this land and ruled all by any means necessary. Your reluctance was infuriating, to say the least and he had found the only plausible solution was to impregnate you with his offspring. Afterall, a poor defenceless girl like yourself needed protecting. Now with a foetus in your womb? He’d put you in lockdown, a dungeon, a high tower with no doors. He would make you his queen whether you would give him your hand or he’d have to cut it off and take it by force.

“Tom, why are you smiling?” You ask yet his expression didn’t drop. “Don’t you see? Silly girl. This baby is what we needed. Just you, I and our child. We shall bring uprising to the world with you by my side and a child on your hip. We shall be indestructible.” You thought for a minute before the cogs ticked into place. “You did this on purpose.” You spoke breathlessly, lurching away from him in disgust.

“Now, now. That is no way to speak to your future husband. You will learn your place the easy way or the hard way.” He’d even spoken to your parents of whom had a strong pureblood line since Merlin’s time and they were more than happy to offer your hand. “Come along now, you must plan the wedding and pick out baby items - I shall plan our takeover.” And with a flick of his wand, you were out cold on the floor, easy to pick up your sleeping figure and take you back go his chambers, where you would stay.

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honeybow · 1 month

Note

I have a cute idea for a Ron Fic where he takes polyjuice potion and fills in for Harry’s classes for a day - when he’s in charms a Hufflepuff girl asks him (as Harry) “you’re Ron’s friend right?” And then he gets flustered and wants to meet her as himself because no one ever thinks of him first he’s always “Harry’s friend” not the other way around

POLYJUICE

omg i loved this idea i’m sorry if i didn’t write it how you wanted!

she/her - fluff ☁️

It felt strange, watching the Polyjuce potion do it’s magic. Harry had begged Ron to cover for him for a day, and after he promised some big favours, Ron couldn’t turn the offer down.

The day had dragged on, and Ron wasn’t the most academic anyway. He almost couldn’t remember why he agreed to do an extra day of school. The worst was potions by far. He got bullied enough by Snape as himself, and it only got worse as Harry. Looking back, though, he supposed it was all worth it. Because he met her.

He already knew of her, of course. She was (y/n) (l/n). She was a Hufflepuff, known for how sweet and kind she was. She was also drop-dead-gorgeous, so obviously Ron had never spoken a word to her.

Ron arrived late to Charms, mentally apologising to Harry as he walked in. Apparently, the seating arrangements had been changed, and (y/n) was now sat next to Harry. Lucky git.

She smiled at him as he sat down, and Ron had to stop himself from rolling his eyes. Of course she was into the whole ‘boy who lived thing’. Who bloody wasn’t!

“Hello.” She whispered, smiling cutely. “I’m (y/n).”

“I’m R-Harry.” Merlin, she was making him nervous. He tried to avoid making eye contact with her after noticing that she has very pretty eyes.

“I know.” Of course she did. “Because you’re Ron Weasleys friend, aren’t you? He used to sit next to my friend in Potions. She always said he was so funny. I always hoped I’d get to talk to him one day.”

Ron felt himself blush. She knew Harry because of him? No way. Maybe she was a muggle, that would explain it. (y/n) wanted to talk to him! Merlin, how he wished he didn’t look like his best friend right now. No one ever thought of Harry as Ron’s best friend, it was always the other way around.

“I- uh- I guess I could arrange… that. You two, y’know, meeting.” Ron fumbled with his words, feeling the tips of his ears growing red.

“Oh, would you! Thank you, Harry. That’s so nice.” She grinned, and Ron felt winded. She really was beautiful.

“You won’t tell him, will you?” Her face dropped, and she looked nervous.

“Tell him what?” Ron was confused. Girls are so weird. Why wouldn’t Harry tell him? How are they supposed to meet if Harry didn’t tell him.

“That- you know… well, maybe next time I see you talking, I’ll come over and talk to you and then you can introduce us?” She nibbled at her lip nervously. Ron tried not to stare.

“Can’t you just, like, go and introduce yourself after class?” His confusion overtook however flustered he might feel.

“No! He might think I’m weird.” She leant a little closer and lowered her voice. “I need to make a good impression.” Ron felt his heartbeat quicken as she drew closer.

“I-I don’t think he will, (y/n).” He mumbled, sure that if he was in his usual body he would be bright red by now.

“Just introduce us next time you see us, okay?” She looked at him with pleading eyes.

“Sure.” He smiled to himself.

They talked more throughout the lesson, and Ron weirdly felt himself getting jealous. She was laughing at his jokes, and even though it was actually Ron dressed up, she thought she was talking to Harry. The whole thing made his head hurt.

As they left the classroom, (y/n) stopped him with a soft hand on his arm that sent tingles throughout his body.

“Remember to introduce us, okay!”

Merlin, she really wanted to meet him. Why on earth would she want to that badly? She just spoke to the boy who lived, and all she could talk about was his best friend. Maybe he shouldn’t introduce himself. She obviously had something wrong with her.

“Why do you want to meet him so bad?” He mumbled, only half expecting her to hear.

“You haven’t guessed? If you promise not to tell him…” She spoke quietly, with a conniving smirk that still somehow made her look sweet, and Ron nodded eagerly.

“I think he’s cute.” She giggled.

He was sure that his entire face was purple by now, and his palms grew sweaty. There’s no way a girl as pretty and nice as (y/n) would like him!

“Hey, Harry. Your hair… it’s starting to get really light. I didn’t notice that before. Some parts are almost ginger.” She looked confused.

“Oh! Yep, let Neville try out a new spell and it didn’t really work, so- you know, uh, I’ve really gotta go now.” Ron panicked, if she realised, she would never want to go out with him.

He sped off, cheeks flushed and heart racing for more reasons than one. As he watched his features come back in the mirror of his dorm, he smiled slightly.

“You thought about what favour you want from me yet?” Harry asked, watching Ron turn back to normal.

“I think I have an idea.”

#xreaders #ron weasley #ron weasley x reader #weasley x reader #harry potter x reader #harry potter #ron weasley fanfiction #ron weasley x you

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crazyhearttragedy · 4 months

Note

💖💖💖

Hi, Lovely. Three things

#1 - (advanced) Happy New Year!! Hope you're having a great day!

#2 - I think I'm just gonna use this emoji (💖). I wanted to use the black heart but it's not very visible.

and

#3 - I have another request if you don't mind. Will you please write a fic based on this YouTube shorts video?

https://youtu.be/7aM1s4bVGSA?si=JW5e7W1V8xxEjYNn

(Make it longer please)

Paying Attention - Mattheo Riddle x reader

Warnings: None

AN: Hello! I think I'm back! What I thought was just a headache, turned out to be the flu, so I was gone for a bit longer than expected. I'm slowly getting better from that so here you are! By the way, i love your emoji!

Word count: 500

Y/n sat at their desk, engrossed in their homework. The room was filled with the calm ambiance of a quiet evening. The soft ticking of the clock echoed in the background, providing a steady rhythm to their focused concentration.

Mattheo, Y/n's significant other, entered the room, looking for a moment of their attention. He approached Y/n, his footsteps hardly making a sound on the hardwood floor. With a gentle smile, he softly called out to them.

"Hey, babe, are you busy right now?" he asked, his voice filled with hope.

Y/n, momentarily breaking their concentration, replied without looking up from their work, "Yeah, I'm just finishing this up though. Give me a few minutes, okay?"

Mattheo nodded, understanding the importance of Y/n's tasks. He leaned against the door frame, observing them as they continued to diligently work. However, deep inside, he couldn't help but feel a sense of longing for their undivided attention.

As Y/n focused on their homework, Mattheo's silence became a silent form of complaining. He fidgeted slightly, crossing his arms and tapping his foot impatiently. A series of thoughts and emotions flooded his mind, but he kept them quiet, not wanting to disrupt Y/n's concentration.

Minutes turned into what seemed like an eternity to Mattheo, who was growing increasingly restless. His need for attention and connection grew more pronounced with every passing second.

Finally, unable to contain himself any longer, Mattheo let out a subtle sigh of frustration. It was a barely audible sound, but enough for Y/n to notice.

"Uh… Babe!" Y/n exclaimed, their voice filled with a mix of concern and annoyance.

Mattheo's pent-up emotions slowly bubbled to the surface, no longer able to remain silent. He looked at Y/n, his eyes conveying his yearning for their attention.

Y/n's gaze softened, realizing the impact their busy schedule had on Mattheo's emotions. Sensing their longing, Y/n pleaded, "Babe, I'm working. I promise, I'll give you my undivided attention once I'm done. Just a little while longer."

Mattheo, feeling torn between his desire for attention and his respect for Y/n's commitment, sighed. He knew Y/n's education was crucial, but so was their bond as a couple. He decided to voice his need openly, hoping that Y/n would understand.

"Pay attention to me," Mattheo expressed softly, his voice tinged with a mix of vulnerability and longing.

Y/n looked up from their work, locking eyes with Mattheo. In that fleeting moment, they saw the true depth of his emotions. The weight of their homework suddenly seemed less important compared to the connection they shared.

Putting their pen down, Y/n stood up and walked over to Mattheo. They wrapped their arms around him, embracing him tightly, and whispered, "I'm sorry, babe. I get so caught up in my work sometimes that I forget what truly matters."

Mattheo buried his face in the crook of Y/n's neck, taking in their comforting scent. He understood the importance of Y/n's education, but he also knew that their love and presence were equally irreplaceable.

In that moment, Y/n made a promise to themselves to find a better balance between their academic responsibilities and their relationship. They realized that their attention and affection were vital to nurturing their bond and making Mattheo feel valued.

As they stood in each other's arms, the quiet ticking of the clock became a gentle reminder of the time they shared, emphasizing the significance of giving undivided attention to the ones we love.

#y/n #harry potter #harry potter x reader #harry potter fanfiction #xreader #mattheo x y/n #mattheo x you #mattheoxreader #mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle x reader

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nancy-reads · 8 months

Text

you belong with me

pairing: fred weasley x reader

summary: fred wakes up after a wild night with his team to his phone buzzing nonstop after his latest tweet. Turns out he accidentally invited his old chemistry partner (and long-time crush) to the second game of the season. pining and fluff ensue.

warnings: a tiny little bit of spice at the end (it's really not that much i just want to warn you guys)

authors note: i promise the sequal to am i the one you think about will come out, i just got a bunch of inspiration to write this all of the sudden and wanted to share it with you guys!!

CROSSPOSTED TO AO3

As soon as Fred woke up, he regretted everything. His head was pounding, his throat was dry, and his muscles ached. Every part of him wanted to lie back down and never get up again.

His memories of last night were fuzzy at best. He was hanging with some of the boys from his team, celebrating after their first game of the season. Many beers were passed around, and for some reason, Fred had a vague memory of the team shouting at him over and over to do it.

Strange. They probably wanted him to take a bunch of shots or something. Usually, he’d be down, but not during football season. He had games to win, and Superbowls to play at.

Fred opened his eyes and blinked sleepily. As the world came into focus, he realized that his phone was buzzing, and had been for a while. He rolled over, chugged a glass of water, and grabbed his phone.

His jaw dropped as he saw the flood of notifications.

Fred Weasley’s Secret Crush?

Fred Weasley Invites Mystery Girl to Sunday’s Game Over Twitter

Football Hearthrobb Fred Weasley Has a Girlfriend?!

Holy shit.

There was only one person this could be about, and he might just die from embarrassment if he was right. You had probably completely forgotten about him, while he still liked all of your Instagram photos on his private account.

Fred scrolled through his notifications to see what looked like a million from Twitter alone, and a text from nearly everyone he knew.

Taking a deep breath, he tapped the Twitter app and clicked on his profile.

Fred Weasley @thebetterweasley

never would have gotten to the nfl without my college chem partner @ynln… tickets to the next game on me?

Fred’s eyes widened as he reread his tweet over and over again. He could feel his entire body heating up as he fought the urge to bury his head in his hands.

He just blew it. Entirely. You would never be interested in him now. You’d just think he wanted the attention, or worse, just for a quick fling.

Fred couldn’t imagine ever only wanting a fling from you. You and your gorgeous hair, beautiful eyes, and the way you talk way just mesmerizing. He could never focus during Intro To Chemistry because you’d be sat right next to him, eyes sparkling and pen flying as you took notes.

And he saw your grades. You were basically a genius, acing every test and perfecting every project. You were probably in grad school right now or in some sort of job for brilliant people who are saving the world.

You probably had no idea who he was.

After an embarrassingly long time spent moping, Fred got out of bed and reluctantly headed to the gym to work out. In between reps, he responded to the thousands of texts that he received, either congratulating him or calling him an idiot.

He definitely knew which ones were right.

His tweet had millions of likes by now, so there was no chance that you’d missed it. He’d been contacted by loads of news outlets, asking for a quote or an interview or anything about you, and he’d denied all of them. The passive-aggressive text from his manager, Alicia, was enough to make him want to delete every social media account he owned.

Fred had just finished his last stretch routine and was headed toward the showers when he got a notification.

Y/N L/N @ynln

maybe i’ll swing by…see if we still have chemistry

Fred could feel the heat spread from his neck all the way to his hairline. He wanted to giggle and kick his feet like a lovesick teenager. Maybe he didn’t ruin everything after all?

You tweeted it a minute ago..would it be weird for him to like it immediately?

Yes. Yes, it would.

That didn’t make him want to do it any less.

As Fred headed to the shower, a massive smile adorning his face, he immediately hit the call button because he had to tell someone about this. You responded to his tweet. He wanted to jump around and squeal like a kid with a crush.

Which was pretty accurate, to be quite honest.

“George,”

“Freddie, I just finished my workout, is this really that imp-”

“She responded to my tweet!!” Fred nearly shouted. He was bouncing on the balls of his feet, eyes shining with excitement. He didn’t recognize himself as he looked in the mirror. His smile was too big for his face, and his ears were bright red.

“It did have more than a million likes, Fred. I think she kind of had to.”

“Don’t ruin this for me George. I’ve liked her for so long, what do I even do now?”

Fred could hear George’s exasperated smile from miles away. “First, you are going to take a deep breath. You are a cool NFL football player, not a horny teenager. “

“Right. Yes.”

He took a deep breath, but his heart was still racing and the butterflies in his stomach would not go away. Come on Fred, you are gonna be normal about this. You can do it.

“You got that Fred?” George asked. Fred murmured an affirmative. “Okay, now you are gonna get tickets to the VIP booth, four of them.”

“Four? Why-”

“Because one of them is for Mum, as you know she will get there somehow if you’ve invited a girl.”

“That’s fair, actually.”

“Also, the public loves her so I assume that your girl will want to meet her too.” Fred pointedly ignored how his heart raced at the words “your girl.” George continued, “You’re also not going to be the asshole who makes her go alone, so give her a couple tickets for her friends.”

“When did you get so smart with girls?”

George chuckled. “Oh this is all Angelina. I don’t know anything.”

“Yeah, that makes a lot more sense, Georgie.”

“Hey!”

Fred hung up as he orders four VIP tickets for the game. He immediately sends one to his mum, but he pauses before sending it to you.

see you at the game! you better be wearing red and gold…

Fred added a winky face, then immediately deleted it. He didn’t want to seem too juvenile or worse, weird. His thumb hovered over the blue send button, rereading the DM over and over. At last, he admitted defeat and sent a screenshot to Geoge.

F: does this sound okay?

G: yes. stop worrying.

F: you act as if you were not the same way when you asked angelica to the yule ball

G: shut up

Fred snorted as he switched back to Twitter. He took a deep breath, steeled himself, and pressed send.

For the rest of the week, Fred practiced harder than ever. All eyes were gonna be on him this week, and he needed a win. More importantly, you were gonna be at this game, and he knew who he wanted to dedicate his touchdown to.

He’d been thinking about it since that freshman year chemistry class when he was nothing but a rookie tight end, and the NFL was nothing but a dream. The crowd goes wild, but the only person he’s looking at is you.

Christ, when did he become such a romantic?

He felt a smile split across his face when his phone buzzed during a break.

Y: i looked through my closet and i don’t know if i have any red and gold…might have to steal something of yours

F: stay after the game and maybe we’ll see

The two of you didn’t text often, maybe a couple of times a day, but it was always a highlight. Locker room talk had devolved into just making fun of Fred’s puppy dog eyes and lovesick smile whenever he opened his phone.

Someone from the press got a picture of him smiling at his phone, and the internet exploded even more.

Fred Weasley Caught Blushing At His Phone During Practice

Fred Weasley’s Smile Has the Internet Swooning

Fred Weasley’s Mystery Girl: Who Is She?

Part of him wanted to feel embarrassed with all the attention, but he was too grateful that you had finally given him the time of day to really think about it. He was laser-focused on every play and worked extra hard at the gym. They would win the game this week, even if it was purely by his will.

Fred had never been this nervous for a game before. Every single playoff game, championship, or even the Superbowl hadn’t prepared him for this feeling.

His girl was up there, and he had to impress you today.

The crowd screamed louder than ever as he ran onto the field with his team. There were signs everywhere, asking if you were here and making jokes about Fred being a loverboy. He couldn’t stop the smile from spreading across his face as he looked around the stadium, taking it all in.

There was nothing he loved more than football, and having other people love him for it was even more special.

Still, Fred tried to catch your eye in the VIP booth, and his smile widened when he saw you talking to his mum. Embarrassing as it was, everyone loved her, so she was probably the quickest way to your heart. Eventually, though, his mum took pity on him and pointed him out to you.

And shit, your smile when Fred finally looked into your eyes. The two of you were far away, so it was hard to tell, but he already knew it was beautiful. He stared at you, probably for longer than was considered normal until the whistle blew and he was forced to follow his team.

This was probably the best game his team had ever played. Everyone was in sync, and the plays they’d worked on all summer were gaining them yards across the field. Everyone could feel the energy in the stadium as people cheered his name.

The only problem, Fred hadn’t yet scored a touchdown. Halftime had just ended, and the team was up thirty-one points. He could feel the coaches wanting to pull him out and let the best people rest while they had such a great lead, however, he silently begged them to let him stay in.

Just one good play and I’ve got this.

And his chance finally came halfway through the third quarter. They were only a few yards away from the endzone, and Fred knew that this was his chance as Oliver called the play.

The whistle blew, and Fred didn’t even see the other players as he sprinted into the endzone, dodging anyone who attempted to get in his way. He and Oliver were in perfect sync as he threw the ball straight into Fred’s hands, securing another six points for the team.

The crowd screamed as the touchdown was announced, and Fred couldn’t stop himself from doing a little victory dance. His eyes found your booth as he headed to the sideline, and he blushed from head to toe at your reaction. You were jumping around and screaming with joy (he hoped) and you looked adorable.

In a moment of confidence, he caught your eye, placed his hand on his chest, and held out half a heart, mouthing “This one is for you.”

Part of him wondered if he was coming on too strong, but the other part was enamored with you as you clasped your hand over your beautiful smile and held half a heart back.

The crowd let out an “aww” as you showed up on the screen beside him, and he couldn’t stop himself from beaming at the nearby camera. He could feel people tapping away at their phones to post on social media, but he didn’t care. You were cheering for him.

The game continued, and Fred was mostly put on the sidelines to give some of the rookies a chance to play, as it was looking pretty good for his team. He couldn’t stop himself from stealing glances at your booth, so much so that the team was beginning to notice.

“Fred, loverboy, the game is this way,” Lee Jordan teased.

“Staring at your mom, Weasley?” Andrew Sloper asked.

Even Oliver, who usually had a stick up his ass, joined in on the fun. “God, Fred, you’d think Taylor Swift was here or something.”

Fred was happy to laugh with them. He hadn’t remembered feeling this giddy in a long time, and he couldn’t push the smile from his face. Part of him was eager for the game to be over, so he could go see you.

Still, his hands shook and butterflies erupted from his stomach when he thought about heading up to your booth. Would conversation flow? Would you even like him in person after all these years? Did you only come for free tickets or for internet clout?

That wasn’t it, he knew. You were too kind, too good to do that when it was obvious how head over heels he was for you. Still, part of him worried.

Fred was sure his team was sick of him by now. He’d been agonizing over his hair for the past thirty minutes as he prepared to leave the locker room and finally see you. He’d blown you a kiss as he left the field, and he was wondering if he’d come on too strong, and clearly if his hair was wrong it would ruin everything.

Maybe he was panicking a little bit. He’d texted you a few minutes ago, giving you instructions on how to get to the family and friends area outside the locker room. He hoped his mum would guide you there, as the last thing he wanted was for you to get lost and attacked by rabid football fans. You didn’t deserve that.

After a few more minutes, he realized that his hair was hopeless (it looked fine) and decided he would rather not leave you waiting. With a last look in the mirror and a deep breath, he headed out of the locker room.

The area was crowded; full of girlfriends, wives, children, and all sorts of family and friends of the team. There was a buzz in the room of people talking, laughing, and generally celebrating the win. The sounds got even louder as he entered, and Fred could see people acting like they weren’t staring at him.

Still, he wasn’t paying attention to anything but you as you locked eyes across the room. You gave him a shy smile, and he couldn’t stop himself from beaming as he headed straight for you.

“Hey,” you said. Your eyes were piercing, and very distracting. He couldn’t seem to form a thought as he stared into them.

“Hey,” he said back, stupidly. He hesitated for a moment as the butterflies felt more like stampeding wildebeest in his stomach. “Did you enjoy the game?”

There was a teasing lilt to your voice as you responded. “I don’t know. It was alright, I suppose.”

“Alright?” Fred asked in mock annoyance. He placed a light hand on your back as he guided you out of the family area. “I guess next time I’ll give my free VIP tickets to someone else.”

You snorted. “As if you have someone else to give them to.”

“Hey! I have plenty of people to give tickets to.”

“Like who?” you asked. “Your mom?”

Fred smiled and placed a dramatic hand on his chest. “You dare insult Mother Weasley?”

You smiled and stared at the ground as you shook your head. “Never. We had a great time hanging out tonight.”

He gave you a soft smile. “I’m glad. I have a feeling that you’re going to be her new favorite.”

As the two of you neared the press area, Fred straightened and pressed his hand slightly closer to your back. He didn’t want to be too forward, however, he knew how aggressive the press could be. “For this next part, just be careful of the reporters. Our security is really good, and honestly,” he chuckled a bit, “I could take most of them, but I don’t want anyone making you uncomfortable.”

You nodded and pressed a bit closer to him, making him blush even harder.

It was a small hallway, and the press was kept behind some silver barriers that allowed the two of you some space to walk. Cameras flashed and videos recorded Fred and you walking past. You had the prettiest smile in the world, and Fred couldn’t stop looking at you as you gave an especially beautiful one to the cameras.

He’d have to find that photo later.

Fred was desperate to grab your hand as the two of you walked toward his convertible, but his hands were sweaty and shook at the thought. You looked gorgeous in the moonlight, and he couldn’t stop his eyes from dropping to your lips.

As the two of you sped off, you looked at him and raised an eyebrow. “I believe I was promised a jersey after the game.”

He smirked. “I’m pretty sure I said we’ll see.”

“So you don’t want to see me in your jersey next game?”

“Who said you were getting invited to my next game?”

“Seemed like someone enjoyed having me there tonight,” you said, looking away from him, a teasing smile on your face.

Fred smiled. “When did you get so confident? I remember it took forever for us to actually talk when we met.”

“I know it may surprise you Freddie, but some of us grew up a bit after college.”

“Really?” he gasped, dropping his jaw. “That's crazy.”

“And,” you added, “some of us have learned how to tell when someone is flirting with us.”

That's when Fred’s jaw dropped for real, and red spread all the way to his ears. He turned back to the road, focusing on driving as hard as he could. Letting you see the giddy beam on his face was not an option. Your hand moved toward the center console, right next to his, and every part of him itched to hold it.

He cleared his throat. “So, uh…how have you been?”

He listened to you describe your life and your job as if he had not been stalking you on Instagram since he met you. It seemed like you had thrived since college, and Fred felt his heart soar when he heard how happy you were. You deserved everything, and Fred silently hoped he would be there to see you get it.

As the two of you pulled into the parking lot, Fred caught you staring at him, biting your lip as he backed into the spot. He smiled to himself as he got out of the car and opened the door for you.

“Dinner?”

Dinner was perfect. Fred couldn’t stop laughing and smiling in your presence, and it seemed like you were having a great time as well. Every so often the conversation would lull, and he would catch you staring at him as the two of you enjoyed your meal.

He did his share of staring as well, but he hoped that he was less obvious about it.

(He wasn’t.)

Fred finally found the courage to grab your hand as the two of you were leaving the restaurant, with your head thrown back in a laugh that rocked his world. You just looked so adorable that he had to hold you, even if it was just your hand.

He knew it was the right choice when you immediately squeezed his hand. He squeezed back, which caused you to do it again, beginning an all-out hand-squeezing war that only ended when the two of you were laughing too hard to continue.

Christ, your laugh was just so beautiful. You looked so free and so happy when you simply threw your head back and laughed, letting your joy overtake your entire body. Fred could feel himself staring, but he didn’t care. He just wanted to be a part of your sunshine.

Too soon, you stopped laughing and just stared back at him. He held your gaze for a moment, letting his eyes flick to your lips every so often. He stepped closer to you. Close enough to touch you. Close enough to lean in…

Close enough to kiss you.

You’re eyes slid shut as Fred leaned in and placed a hand under your chin to tilt your face up to meet his. Slowly, so terribly slowly, he leaned in and pressed his lips to yours.

Your lips were soft, and they seemed to meld with his perfectly. Fred could feel his pulse racing as you tugged on the lapels of his jacket to get closer. Christ, he just wanted to be closer to you, closer, and closer.

You opened your mouth slightly, and Fred took that opportunity to part your lips and deepen the kiss. He felt you inhale sharply and panicked for a moment until he heard your small moan at the movements of his tongue. All Fred knew was that he wanted to hear that sound again, and again, and again until you couldn’t make it anymore, until you were tired and sick with pleasure-

You gasped as you pulled away from him. Your lips were raw and red, matching the blush that colored your cheeks. It was silent for a moment as the two of you gazed at each other.

Fred smirked. “So…do you think we still have chemistry?”

#this isn't inspired by recent events at all #nope #not me #fred weasley x reader #fred weasely x yn #fred weasley #harry potter #fanfic #xreader #writing #sports romance

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elfenbensord · 7 months

Note

i have a need for remus lupin to call me ‘lovebug’.. i don’t know where the need has arisen from but it’s there

and as you wrote my george x reader request so well (lysm for that <3) i was wondering whether i could maybe request smth fluffy with rem calling reader lovebug, please

OH maybe she’s been studying in the library for AGES and he’s kind of worried for her health

again lysm - 🦕

a/n: hi again, cutie😊 that need is so valid and so relatable tbh. i’m also casually obsessed with this piece, hope you like it as well ❤️🥰

pairing: remus lupin x fem!reader,

summary: remus finds you in the library, and accidentally confesses his love for you. friends to lovers. fluff.

wordcount: 742

warnings: none.

lovebug

15.10.23

He finds you in the library, head hanging over a long piece of parchment filled with your tiny, scraggly handwriting.

“What are you doing, all cooped up in here? The sun is shining, it’s a beautiful day!” Remus scolds you, crossing his arms and sending you a fond look.

You won’t even look at him, too focused on your work. “I think I found this error in my essay on the uprising of the elves of 1670, I just had to fact-check it so Professor Binns doesn’t think I’m an absolute idiot–”

“No one thinks that”, Remus says softly. You smile, finally meeting his eyes. “You’re too kind.”

He nods. “Just kind enough, I’d say.”

You let your quill fall onto the table. Standing up with a screech from the chair, you actually take a proper look at him. Remus is for once not drowning in a bulky jumper, probably due to the hot beginning-of-summer weather. Instead, he’s wearing a breezy short-sleeved shirt and a pair of light-blue jeans. His arms are exposed, both to your dismayal and pleasure. You pretend not to notice the blonde, soft-looking hairs dusting his forearms. He looks happy, he does well in summer. Freckles are starting to show across his nose and cheeks, his hair becoming just a shade lighter in the sun. It’s a teasing view of what could be yours, if one of you could just swallow your pride and tell each other.

He towers over you even though you’re now standing instead of sitting down. He leans even closer, pretending not to notice how your breath hitches. Heart pumps faster, making you feel dizzy. “Whadd’ya say, wanna head down to the lake? Maybe a quick skinny-dip?”

“A– Skinny dip?” A warmth spreads across your face, fills your entire body. You do your best to stay afloat. “Are you actually serious?” you blubber out.

“Why wouldn’t I be.” He flashes a smile. Breath hot on your face, nose barely grazing yours. You wonder how you’re gonna survive this conversation.

He doesn’t wipe the suggestive grin from his face. He knows what he’s doing to you, how could he not? “Maybe a midnight dip is more to your liking, Lovebug?”

Lovebug? Your brain is turning to mush.

You clear your throat. Suddenly, a cold, careless anxiety starts to spread. You take a breath, “Where’s this all coming from? Did… Did Sirius put you up to this? To tease me, or something?”

Remus’ face drops. His hands get out of control, waving in broad gestures as he talks. “No, no, no… I’m sorry, I’m just… I’m being silly. Sorry. That was, that was inappropriate. I’m really sorry.”

You smile weakly at him. Of course you forgive him. Of course.

Remus isn’t ready to give up quite yet. He places a hand on your shoulder, squeezing softly. It trails down, until it can toy with your fingers. “But for the record, I wouldn’t mind going skinny dipping tonight. Together. Just you and me.”

“Remus, what do you mean?” you say slowly.

“That I want to… I want… I want you.”

Your heart drops out of you Mary-Janes, leaving you limp and jelly-like. “Wh– What?”

“Sorry. That’s inappropriate too. Let’s just– Let’s just forget everything happened. I’m gonna go and uuh– die of shame now. See you at dinner-”

He turns around quickly, almost sprinting for the librabry exit. You catch his hand, stopping his escape. Your hands intertwine. Eyes meet.

You exhale. “I want you too.” A beat of silence.

Then his face opens up in a grin, shining like the sun. “You do?”

You nod.

Remus grabs your hand, placing a tender kiss on it. He won’t stop smiling. “What… What do we do now?”

“How about”, you grasp his shirt, feeling the light fabric between your fingers. “A skinny dip in the lake, at midnight?”

“Sounds perfect.”

“Great. Now go away, please. I have an essay to write.”

“Will do, Lovebug. See you tonight.”

“See you.”

You smile as you see him leave the library. He turns around once, twice, to send a blazing smile your way. The essay in front of you melts into a million daydreams all including a certain brown-haired boy. Lovebug.

#remus lupin x reader #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin #young!remus lupin x reader #the marauders era #xreader #marauders x reader #harry potter

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bitchyycapricorn · 6 months

Note

Im here to request Narcissa Malfoy to kinktober!!! You are free to choose the kink but i want some hard smut pleeeease 🥺🥺

Thx Happy October 🎃😚

Sub!Narcissa Malfoy x Dom!Fem!Reader + Praise

-Good Girl-

Kintober Masterlist

Masterlist

AN: Ik this is a later request for kinktober that’s like a month overdue, I was just feeling a little ✨gay✨ (I fucking love women)

Warnings: SMUT BROSKIE!!! wlw, Dom/Sub dynamic, praise kink, punishment kink, fingering, oral (fem rec)

The feeling of Narcissa Malfoy’s body under yours wasn’t new. In fact, it had become a sort or routine since Lucius had been summoned to stand by the Dark Lords side. Since his leave, you often found yourself in her bed, under her covers, between her thighs, all while pressing rough kisses against her soft skin. And even now, your bottom lip was dragging across the inside of her thigh as you progress towards her heat in a teasing manner. There was always something about Cissy that made you hot and bothered whenever you were in the same room together. Now, only three months after her arranged marriage to your brother, you find yourself wrapping your arms under her thighs and pulling her closer to your face.

A moan erupts from her soft pink lips as your tongue slowly laps up her arousal, pleasing her the way she deserved to be pleased. Your fingers dig into the soft flesh of her hips as you pull her closer to your face that was still buried in her cunt. “Y/N…” She whines softly, her hands tugging at your pretty locks. You gave her a warning tap to her thigh in response, still continuing to trace circles around her clit with your tongue. “S-stop teas-…” she begins before another whine escapes her rather swollen lips. Your movements come to a halt as your eyes flicker up to meet hers.

She can’t help but let yet another whine leave her lips, despite knowing exactly what she’d done. “Good girls don’t whine. They use their words.” You tell her, sitting up so you can hover over her body. “Don’t you want to be a good girl?” You ask with a slow hum. Your fingers delicately tracing patterns on her hip down to her upper thigh. Her eyes widen as she bites her lip, only giving a small nod in response. Displeased by her lack of vocalization, you land a sharp smack to the side of her thigh. “I said use your words. If I have to ask again, I wont be able to let you finish tonight.”

“Yes, I want to be a good for you-“ She gasps, the feeling of your slap stinging her thigh as your handprint starts to form on her pale skin. “I wont be whiny anymore, I promise.” She swore. You nod, watching as pleasure clouds her vision at the motion of you entering two fingers into her. Her hands grasp your shoulders as you push your fingers deeper into her soft cunt.

“See, that wasn’t so hard.” You smirk, quickening your pace as your fingers curl inside her. You watch proudly as her eyes roll to the back of her head and her soft moans got louder. Her body seems to melt under your touch as she begins to grind her hips down onto your moving fingers. Her thighs were shaking and her bottom lip quivering as you continue to finger her roughly. “Such a pretty girl,” you coo, watching as she continues to try and get off by using your fingers. Pausing your thrusts, you take the opportunity to press your palm against her cunt, putting pressure on her clit as she continues to grind against your digits. Another cry escaped her lips as she moves her hips faster, fingers now digging into your shoulders as she chases her high.

“Go on, be a good girl and cum on my fingers.” You encourage, thrusting and curling just your fingers in her as she continues to struggle against your palm. You can feel the moment she tenses up, followed by her cunt squeezing your fingers as she releases, soaking the silk sheets beneath her. Her head lolls to the side, as you slowly pull your finger out of her.

+++

Taglist (I know I don’t have fandoms separated, so if you’re confused why you’re tagged that’s why lol)

@nataliewalker93 @sarapaprikas-blog @justkeepitblanc @etaerealboy @purplerose291 @witheringawayagain @dandelionqueen @brightlilith @laurens2002 @siriusly1 @hazzarules @cl0v3r-s0up @jibiwoni @maria-pqrker @just-henny @little-jana @ellie-emb @valslittleheart @reeseisinapiece @happilyneverafter69 @gram-cracker24 @kisstheskin @whenmypartysover @wowitsem @chinaza444 @sherlockstrangewolf @shine101 @moniffazictress11 @cryptidcreaturewrites

#narcissa malfoy #narcissa black #narcissa malfoy x reader #Narcissa Malfoy x you #narcissa malfoy smut #Narcissa Malfoy x fem!reader #XReader #harry potter x reader #harry potter #harry potter fandom

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velnias1 · 9 months

Text

Are you or someone you love suffering from heartbreak? Do you feel useless? Unlovable? If so, we here at potterheads united have just the thing for you! Introducing ✨George Weasley✨, he’s huggable! Kissable! Funny! And his mother loves you more than anything! And better yet he’s FICTIONAL! So he’ll never hurt you like that bastard did. George Weasley, for all your boyfriend needs.

Potterheadsunitedarenotliableforanypropertydamagegeorgeweasleymaycausetheyarealsonotliablefforsymptomssuchasfallinginloveheartpalpatationsorrednessofthecheeksandears

#george weasley x male reader #george weasley #george weasley x y/n #george weasley x reader #harry potter #harry potter xreader #harry potter funny

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theosmommy1966 · 30 days

Text

Idrk where this came from.. it was just a thought and then three hours later.. here it is i guess. Snape in my head in this is Adam Driver. So yeah. Hope you like it!

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Your ears were ringing, not for the first time you were thankful to always have your own locker room. Being the only woman on a college hockey team came with a list of problems, so you were happy to have one less. The guys would just come pound on the door and be obnoxious as shit to let you know they were ready. Normally you would roll your eyes and laugh while joining them, today Pansy was pushing past Daph and Hermione to get to the door.

Theodore being the tallest without skates on could easily see you quickly trying to braid your hair, only to start crying again as Hermione took over quickly. War was raging in him as he elbowed Mattheo who then felt the same way. They both wanted into the locker room. Both angry at whoever or whatever it is that has made you cry, but both also want to wipe your tears and comfort you.

Pansy pulled the door shut and sighed, “Just.. I dont know.. I cant really tell you. But just take it easy on her, if shes struggling dont be dicks about it.. I dont know. This is kinda fucked.” Just as Draco went to ask what was wrong, the door flew open and you walked out gear ready besides your helmet needing clipped and you were chewing on your mouthpiece in anger. Your cheeks and eyes were red but you no longer looked sad. In the two minutes between the door opening and closing you had switched into anger.

Anger the guys could work with. If you were mad, they could channel mad. Coach Sev could tell when your skates first hit the ice that it would be a rough game. It always amazed him how the mood of one player could set the mood for an entire team. True hockey fans could tell by the way someone skated where their mental state was. The way the team's blades sliced through the ice gave their fans goosebumps. Warm ups started as the other team hit the ice as well. Mattheo watched as your eyes followed their players, in one way he wasn't surprised. Your boyfriend was on the other team, went to a different college. What did surprise him was the way you watched for him. With a cold calculation in your eyes as you spun your stick in your hands, still chewing on your mouth guard. He needed to make sure you actually kept it in your mouth during the game.

He was shocked, because this guy had been a rough patch in your friendship. Mattheo and Theodore hated the guy, the way he put you down but in a subtle way that you never seemed to catch. Saying how you were a good hockey player.. For a girl.. Theo was quieter in his annoyance, where Matt was not. Quiet was not a verb used to describe him.. Ever. It had caused dirty looks and small arguments, but he would never let anything come in between you. Even if it meant biting his cheek until it bled, or simply not being around when you were with him.

As Captain he stood back watching everyone warm up, doing his own rounds while everyone stretches. Theo, his boyfriend and co captain glided up next to him looking towards you as well. They both silently watched as you and your boyfriend, Jacob, skated up to each other. They couldn't hear what was said but they could see his face. A smug smile, the kind you would give your girl right before you tell her how your teams gonna beat hers. It stayed for a few seconds, then it faltered, then it fell. “God I wish I knew what she said.” Mattheo said watching you skate backwards into line for warm ups.

Your anger hadnt lessened at all when your eyes found Jake. Pansy had crashed in just as you were finishing up your laces, anger clear on her face before it fell into sadness. Without saying anything she shoved her phone into your hand. Your ears started ringing after the second video. The first one was Jake making out with some girl, the second was him telling his teammates how you were as shitty in bed as you were on the ice. That he was ready to be done because he wasn't getting any game changing secrets out of you anyways.

There were a few more after that.. And pictures.. So many fucking pictures. Your heart broke so fast and so hard. The guys had been worried about this, how many times had Draco told you how stupid you were. Theo and Mattheo telling you that they just don't see why he would all of a sudden be interested in you just because of hockey. They swore you had a million better reasons to be interesting and he wasn't interested in any of them. Matt had told you that he talked shit about you, that he was constantly degrading. Blaise tried to be supportive, he wasn't rude to your face. But you knew he agreed. Enzo was the only one of your little group that told you he just wanted you to be happy.

Just as quickly though you got mad. Mad didnt even cover it really, your skin was crawling. You thought people saying their blood was boiling was just an expression, but you could feel it. You wanted to claw at yourself to release some of this pressure. You were sweating and you knew if Hermione redid your braid one more time that you would snap at her and that wasn't fair. The chilly air hit your lungs and you drew in every bit you could. This was your happy place, where you had thrived since childhood. Sure your mom wishes you would have done figure skating, but your dad was thrilled. He never missed an opportunity to tell people about his daughter who plays hockey.

For Jacob to insult your skills on the ice in any way was a joke. There was never a year from mites all the way to now in college where his stats were better than yours. He was just jealous, and now he would see the real hockey player in you. When his eyes connected with yours from his tunnel he smiled at you in a way that twenty minutes ago probably would have made you melt. Now all you see is condescension. It took everything for you to not just blurt it out. You let him flirt for a minute, tell you how he would make you feel better when you lost.

Gag.

You could feel the guys eyes on you, you knew it was time to get back. So you leaned in with a smile on your face like you were going in for a quick kiss. Just before his lips could touch yours you pulled back just a little. “Something crazy to think about.. Babe… By the end of this game.. the whole team will know you cheated on me… not only my team.. which is bad enough.” You chuckled as you pulled back enough to see his pale cheeks. “But imagine, Harry.. Ron.. Fred.. George.. Oliver.. They all love me too..” Somehow it was like Neville the sound man just knew what to play, because as soon as you pushed off to skate back to your team ‘...Ready for it. By Taylor Swift’ came on and you smiled meanly. “Good Luck.”

You ignored your two best friends as you lined up, you ignored them again when you were waiting your turn and sent a hard puck right into the back of your soon to be exs knee. Snape hollered your name from the bench and gave you that look you hated. The guy wasnt even 10 years older than you, but he carried the authority and knowledge of an old man so whatever. Then it was time to line up, one of the guys had been hurt so you ended up in a defensemen position instead of forward where you normally were. Being one of the faster skaters and having great stick handling skills showed that was your niche. But you were tall for a girl. Standing at 5`11 without skates with a broad build that was strong but still soft in areas like the thighs so you were an ok fill in.

Mattheo was the other first string defensemen, Draco was center, Theo and Enzo on either wing. Jacob was a first string forward, it couldn't have worked out better. You'd have to get Goyle some candy when he felt better. You were surprised at how well you were playing and keeping track of where your real target was. Mattheo kept trying to set up to be the one who would have to go after him, but you kept getting in his way.

Everyone besides the girls gasped in surprise and shock when Jacob started to skate down the ice with the puck only to be roughly checked into the glass by you. Regulus, your kinda uncle, who was a few years older than you, was one of the refs. He came over to escort you to the penalty box when you whispered a quick low down on what he had done. Reggie nodded then winked when he closed the door to the penalty box. Just a moment later, Reggies friend Barty, the other ref knocked on the glass and winked.

They both knew you were getting ejected from the game. That you were coming out of the box swinging. You had started to calm down just a tad bit. The cold air and the physical exertion are starting to help. That is until you hear a high pitched voice scream Jacob's name. When you turn your eyes lock with one of the girls from the videos. The girl from last night at his house party. The one you didn't go to for obvious reasons. When she did her little finger wave and smirked everything went fuzzy.

The outsides of your vision was blurry as your eyes watched the clock and the ice. You just prayed Jacob was out when your time was up. Your ears were ringing as Jacob was called off the bench, 3 seconds left. The attendant, an older gentleman who worked with the athletics department chuckled as he prepped to open the door. He had seen this many times, sure never from this perspective, but he had daughters and he knew how they would react.

“Go get him a tiger.”

You didn't even know where the puck was when your blade cut through the first slice of ice. You knew Mattheo was on the bench and Theodore was on the other side of the ice. Maybe ten strong strides across the arena. 6 before you dropped your stick. 3 before your gloves are off. 1 before your fist connected with his jaw. As you grabbed his jersey and used what every bit of strength you had to slam him back into the glass. In his shock he didn't realize that he was falling and you were swinging again.

In another moment of perfect coincidence, you're right in front of your family's seats. Theodore Sr, Lucius, and your father are all standing up and cheering while banging their fists on the glass. Your mother has her mouth covered with her hands while Bellatrix and Cissy stand on their seats leaning to hold onto shoulders and watch. You hear someone come up behind you, you know its not a ref but they never even get the chance to grab at you. Theos flies past you and slams someone from the other team into the ice.

Now you can hear Snape screaming curse words at you all as the bench clears. Reggie and Barty are both standing off to the side, eyes wide in pretend shock as they pretend to decide who's going where. Your mind momentarily slips away from beating Jacobs face in, but it snaps back into perfect clarity when his glove connects with the bottom of your jaw. You lose your grip in shock, which in some way is stupid. When you fall backwards and your helmet connects with the ice, the stadium falls silent. This had been the moment the entire college hockey league had been waiting for. How would it be handled, because while you were a woman, you had joined the team, and started the fight.

In the silence, from the other team's bench, you hear Coach Black's voice. “KICK HIS ASS L/N!” More gasps followed as Neville changed the big screens to a video of Jacob saying you were a shitty player. Jacob tried to scramble up as half of his own teams heads snapped to him. Needless he knew now that he wasnt leaving the ice without getting his ass beat at least once more. Looking up towards the reporters box you could see Ginny and Neville leaning out and cheering for you.

Alot of people were going to be getting in trouble after this game, but it didnt seem like anyone cared. It was a perfect moment of unity and unsportsmanlike conduct as people took their turns with Jacob before Regulus and Barty decided they would lose their jobs if they let it go any longer. While both teams skated off the guys all cheered for you and gave you pats on your back. Theo and Matt walked you to your locker room, you could tell they both wanted to say something.

Matt looked like he was constipated, the look he only got when he was trying to figure out how to talk about his feelings. He wanted to tell you to stop looking for someone who would love you more than him and Theo did. That there would never be two people who cared more, or knew you better than they did. That they knew it was unconventional and that people would talk, but they wanted to be with you. They couldn't go without you anymore.

Just as you whisper his name his brain short circuits and when it starts working again his lips are already on yours. His hands holding your cheeks as he memorizes how your lips feel just in case he never gets to do this again. When he pulls back he almost doesn't want to open his eyes, scared of what he will see. But all he sees is awe and confusion as you look from him to your other best friend.. His boyfriend.. Who you now think he just cheated on, right in front of..

Shit.

#theodore nott #slytherin #theodore nott x reader #theo nott xreader #theo nott x y/n #theo nott x you #theo nott x reader #theo nott x mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle imagine #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo x you #mattheo x y/n #theodore nott x you #theodore nott x y/n #mattheo x reader #mattheo x reader x theodore #harry potter au #slytherinboys

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zwolfgames · 2 months

Text

Yandere Draco Malfoy x reader (Part 3)

Requested by: /

Warnings: Talks of murder, unlogical magic use, abuse of spells, violence and yandere stuff.

Parts: Part 1 , Part 2

And it was ass-

Draco woke up early to do his hair, insisting that he'd do yours aswell. And no, you were never as high end as him, so getting all these forgein products put into your hair wasn't pleasant.

He began choosing your weekend outfits. Styled your school robes when he didn't approve of how ruffled they were, he even went as far as to push you into the bathroom to shower when he found you too greasy. By wich you mean everyday....

You hadn't expected the blonde to be such a control freak, but he was. Okay, maybe you should have...

Currently, you were simply walking down a secluded hall.. again, when the statue next to you and Draco let its axe drop.

You weren't fast enough to completly save your most controlling friend, tough you did pull him into you out of reflex. A bleeding cut was created on his left arm... but it was better then getting an axe trough your head, you suppose.

Draco screams out in angony and you wince as the sound hurt your ears.

You drag the fool with you to the infirmairy while he's crying out in pain, hoping you get there before he passes out because in no way are you strong enough to carry this lanky kid.

You grit your teeth as you think back to the now thrid attempt at Draco's life. What student even has the balls to attempt this even once? And how had the teachers not caught them?

And why is Harry Potter staring at you and Draco from behind a corne-

What.

You whip your head around to face the chosen one who freezes as he's caught.

"I can explain-" He stutters out with his hands up to show his innocence.

"Did you try to kill him?" You ask simply while Draco's just screaming.

"No-"

"Okay." You turn back around and keep walking, you had bigger problems then Potter's questions right now.

"What? No wait-" He runs after you as you keep walking.

You don't really react as you keep dragging Draco away to the infirmairy.

Mrs.Pomfrey gasps in shock as you bring Draco in, she immeadiatly gets to work and you can finally drop the screaming blonde onto a bed, tough he's mostly just crying now.

Draco demands that you hold his other hand while Pomfery heals his arm.

So you suck up your free will and sit next to his bedside to hold his hand.

Harry hasn't left... Just stares at the scene in confusion.

"Why are you friends with Malfoy?" The dark haired boy asks.

You eye him for a moment, as you've never talked before.

"I'm not." You shrug and Draco almost snarls.

".. You are." The blonde croaks out in pain, just to correct you.

You roll your eyes and Harry's frown tightens.

"Do you have any clue's on who's trying to kill him?" Harry asks, as if the target isn't right by you two.

"A student, thats all I know. And if you're going to be asking questions atleast make it less obvious that you're interogating us." You scoff and the boy bites his lip, pushing his glasses back up.

"I want to help-"

"Yourself. We know."

You finish for him and he looks baffled.

"Thats not what I was going to say." Harry frowns more, fidgeting with his sleeves.

"But it was what you meant. It's a student, thats all I know. Now shoo because the more I talk to you the harder this git squishes my hand." You side glare at Draco who is currently glaring at Harry.

"Then let go of him. He'll be fine on his own, come help us search." Harry suggests a bit calmly now.

Wow, you've never tought of just letting go- Ofcourse you had! Draco just had a deathgrip on your hand.

"This doesn't concern you, Potter." You shake your head. Harry steps closer to look you in the eye.

"No, it does concern me. Nothing at this school ever happens without Voldemort being behind it, it has to be some kind of elaborate plan to get the schools defences down." Harry tries to convince you.

"Ah yes, killing Lucius' son is gonna bring all of Hogwarts down! The worst it's gonna do is have Draco's dad sue the school or something." You explain.

"You know his father?" Harry asks in disbelief. "Well not personally, why?" You ask in confusion, eyebrows scrunching together.

"He's evil." Harry whispers as if he isn't being glared at by the blonde.

"Yea so? Thats not my problem?" You shrug again and ignore the pulling on your hand from a clearly annoyed Slytherin.

"What? That... Y/N, just help us, you're with Draco all the time, and you've saved him too. We can solve this together." Harry starts again with his proposal.

"No, Potter, let the teachers solve things for once, go study or something. And why do you know my name?" You narrow your (e/c) eyes.

Harry stiffens. From what you've heard of Draco's shittalking, he's quite the stalker. Tough you'd never expected to be a victim of it.

"Don't worry about it, you're well known-"

"I'm not."

"You're friends with a Malfoy."

"I'm not." You repeat again.

"..You are.." Draco buts in again.

You sigh at the absurdity of this all. Harry wanted that thrill of mystery. Draco wanted a friend he could control and you just wanted to pass this year.

Very diffrent wants and needs. Not compatible.

So you'd ditch them both.

Easy as that.

When Draco was allowed out of the infirmairy you helped him back up to your shared room and ran off as fast as you could.

Two goals in mind, catch the mystery person and avoid everyone else.

So, out of pure desperation, you stole a polyjuice potion from proffesor Snape's supply. How, you may ask. You snuk a letter up under the door of his office that said he was needed by Dumbledore in terms of his potions career. It couldn't be too obvious, but it seems you had nailed it.

So without furder ado, you threw a hair of your blonde 'friend' into the potion. You had snatched a Slytherin tie from his closet. Quite an idiotic descicion to let you live in his dorm...

Oh well. You were transformed in a matter of minutes, tried to adjust the now blonde hair back to how neat Draco usually had it and set off to go find the most secluded and dark places off the castle.

If they wanted Draco malfoy dead, then they'd have to try harder.

It didn't take long before you felt watched. But you had to keep the cocky air up around you. Chin up, back straight.

And bam! A spell again! Right past your face from behind. Since you weren't actually Draco, you had been on guard. And this time this sucker wasn't getting away.

You chugged down a speed potion, accio-ing your broom as you ran after the person. Draco's height aided your sprint, tough you hoped the polyjuice potion didn't affect your own pyshical abilities because you doubt that Draco could hold up running as long as you.

Your broom flew into your hand not long after, stealing tricks from Potter wasn't a bad idea as long as no-one saw it!

You didn't even sit on the long stick, no time for that. You just let it drag you along as it flew. You didn't know brooms could even work like that, but your will power was enough for it to do so.

You pushed off against walls as you followed this person into the darker parts of the castle. Deeper into the dungeons. They must have realised long ago that you weren't Draco, or they'd have tried something to hurt you.

Glidinf off of stairs, ignoring the harsh thuds you made against walls and the layers of skin under your pants that were getting torn up by your landing and frantic turns and collisons.

It could all be fixed. As long as you finally caught this damm person it would all be worth it.

With a last jump you caught onto the persons black hood, togging it off and holding in to keep them in your grip.

A feminine yelp left the wrongdoer's mouth as you threw her onto the ground. Letting your broom fly out of your hands so you could pull out you wand, aimed right at her neck.

A....

A child....

First year, maybe.... second year?

You didn't know. But you eyes widened at the sight of this... scared girl.

But now's not the time to be weak, who knows, maybe she took a polyjuice potion too to get the wrong person jailed.

"Explain, right now." You demand in a snarl. It must have looked a lot more intimidating considering you had Draco's face at the moment... It was strange hearing his voice say your words...

"I-I only want him dead!" The girl shouts out. You stiffen and tug her up by the hair.

"And why?" You narrow your now grey eyed gaze. Glaring harshly.

"His father ruined my family! Why are you helping him!?" The girl sobbed. You weren't sure what to do...

Let a kid kill Draco or just turn her in...

You couldn't let her roam free and try again. If Draco actually died you'd be suspicious too.... And intergogated. Truth serum and bam, they had you as the one that let the murderer get away.

Is that a selfish tought?

Are you allowed to think that way?

"I'm helping him because I'm not letting someone die, Malfoy or not." You bite back.

"Thats stupid, he's using you! Let me go!" The girl tries to kick you, a quick 'Stupefy' to the face knocks her right out.

No, you made your desciscion, better safe then sorry. You'd just... deliver her to Dumbledore... Thats better then.. Snape? Better then McGonnagall? Atleast punishment wise. Maybe.. they'd just send her to therapy?

Yea.. lets believe in that...

You carried the girl out of the dungeons. Exhausted by the end of the stairs. If only you knew a spell to make bodies float, too bad thats a Potter exclusive.

After some breaks and huffs, you got to Dumbledore's way too high up office.

Trying to make the walls open or whatever, you hadn't ever been here before...

And you still looked like Draco...

Oh this day couldn't get any worse.

You managed to open the gateway, dropped the kid on a chair at Dumbledore's office and looked him in the eye.

"Malfoy, what brings you and Delaine here?" Dumbledore inquires calmly.

"It's L/N, sir. This is the girl thats been trying to kill Malfoy, excuse my looks..." You sigh and run a hand trough your- Draco's hair. Too much gel for your liking...

"L/N? I see. And how did you aquire a polyjuice potion?" Dumbledore asked with an amused smile.

He didn't look mad but you were'nt going to risk it.

"Lucius Malfoy aided me and Draco in our plan, sir." You lied spontaniously. The old man didn't seem to question it and just nodded.

....

"She isn't going to.. Azkaban, right?" You ask in a whisper.

"No... Miss Delaine hasn't killed anyone... yet. She'll be undergoing a trial. I'll be sure to give your house twenty points for your heroic behavior. You like it on the down low, don't you?" Dumbledore smiles.

You stiffen at his sudden.. correct assumption.

You tought he knew lots, but to know personal things about you? Some random student? Weirdo...

What's he? All seeing?

"You're dismissed, L/N. Be sure to visit the imfirmairy, you look quite rustled." Dumbledore advised and opens the gateway for you again.

You nod and walk out.

Only when the door closes again does your calm expression twist into guilt...

You just ruined some girls life... Not as bad as going to Azkaban... but you defenitly fucked it up..

But.. but it would have been worse for her if she had actually killed Draco. You keep repeating that all the way to the infirmairy.

Why did it have to be some kid?

You weren't sure wether to tell Draco the morning after.

You had come back to the dorm, no strange onlookers glared at you now that you looked liked Draco.

Tough you watched in the mirror as the potions' effects wore off. As the blonde melted back into (h/c) and your body became your own again.

All while you saw the person you were sleeping behind you.

He wasn't even tucked in correctly...

So you did that first... then went to bed yourself.

And now here you were, with Draco gushing over how amazing you looked with the Slytherin tie and how you should steal his clothes more often.

You refrained from looking angry since he didn't need to know all about your reasons for it.

A shame you forgot to change before going to sleep...

He made you wear that tie for the whole day.

It was like a claim.

You weren't sure how you felt about this whole 'friendship' anymore now that the murder problem had been resolved...

Maybe you'd just stick around untill one of the teachers officially announces that the case was solved.

You just wanted your old friends back, your old roomates...

But luck was never on your side.

Not a week after, it had been revealed, wich seemed good. You weren't mentioned, just like Dumbledore knew you wanted.

But oh boy. Someone else knew.

Lucius Malfoy.

The man himself came to visit Hogwarts and singled you and Draco out after dinner.

Exposing your heroic deeds and making Draco like you even more.

he assumed you cared about him to do all this. You just had the basic human decency to not let someone die.

Thats all there was to it.

Atleast on your side.

After Lucius' visit, Draco didn't let you leave him like you had planned.

And you were finally fed up.

Packing your stuff, you'd just move back to your dorm without asking.

"What do you think you're doing?" Draco stood in the doorway. Closing the door behind him as he walked in.

"Moving back. The murder is solved." You state calmly, trying not to provoke anything in the blonde.

"Y/N, you can't do that." He shakes his head and opens your wardrobe again to put your clothes back.

"I can. I've helped you, it's over now." You refuse and put the clothes back in your suitcase.

Draco's face twists into a frown as he comes closer.

"We're not over."

"That isn't what I said-"

"You're mine, Y/n."

Draco announces so directly you needed a moment for the shock to pass so that that cringe feeling could swarm over you.

"Excuse me?" You ask in offence.

"You're mine. In everyway a person could be mine." Draco elaborates, it isn't making his words any better."

"You're sounding absurd." You facepalm but your wrist gets snatched and pulled to his chest.

"You don't understand. I want you in every way there is to want. You're my soulmate. Platonically, Romantically- whatever ally there is. You're the first true friend I've had. You're mine." Draco grins slightly... pshycotically.

Sure mental problems are allowed but keep them to yourself, jeez.

"Did someone make you chug a love potion? Go sober up in the corner and then we'll talk." You keep your cool. Even if you're freaking out on the inside. He isn't acting normal. This has to be a potion of somekind.

Surely it is.

"My father has already agreed that I can court you, Y/N. Don't you see how good this could be for you.?" Draco smiles, trying to convince you of his ultimate love.

You cringe and try to back away, but the blonde just backs you up more into the wardrobe.

"Don't fight our bond." Draco whispers rather creepily.

You'd rather fight both the bond and him if you could choose.

But the moment that you did, or well, attempted to punch him, you were out like a light.

Just like that girl you caught, Draco had 'stupefied' you too.

Knocked out cold for him to gush over.

He just needed a friend that wouldn't leave him.

A friend that wasn't fake.

And you were perfect, seeing as you had no trouble insulting him.

So you were his.

You'd stay his.

You had chosen wrong.

_____☆_____

Kinda lame ending, I know.

But I mean, good enough for a long ass one shot like this. Coudln't let it get too long.

Requests are always open. This is also on Wattpad (its one whole chapter there), and request can be done there too! Whatever you prefer!

have a nice day/night <3

_____☆_____

Words: 5210 (If you read all three parts)

taglist: @maggiecc

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honeypuffle · 2 months

Text

Forbidden Love | Chapter One

A/N - Heyo! Here's the first chapter for this new series, if you haven't done so, you should check out the prologue! Enjoy! <3

Taglist | Masterlist | Prologue | Chapter Two

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"You're sure you packed everything? Every last piece of clothing? What about your books? Oh! Your cauldron?" My mother cried out worriedly.

My dad's hand laid on her shoulder, silencing both her speech and her worry. "Relax, Honey. I'm sure she has everything." He winked at me from where he stood.

"I have everything mom, even Celeste." I smiled at my mom, holding up the bird's cage. "Besides, Nana Minnie will be there!" I gleamed up at her as she laughed.

My dad chuckled as well as I noticed a man in a suit with two boys my age closely following him walking pointedly towards us. "Honey, you know you have to call her-"

"Mister McGonagall." The man nodded to my dad stopping to talk to him as my eyes flickered to the two boys. My dad smiled as my mom turned to the man alongside him.

"Mister Nott. Sending your son off to Hogwarts?" My dad greeted politely as the boys and I smiled at each other.

The man- or Mister Nott, I suppose barely registered his own son, "Yes, he is getting to about that age." he waved dismissively with his hand.

My mother gave me a last squeeze, "Yes, well I believe they better be getting on the train now or they just might miss it." She smiled, seeming to snap the two adults out of a conversation that they seemed to be having with their eyes.

"Yes!" My dad clapped before giving me a hug and ushering me and the other two boys off. "I love you honey, have an amazing school year!" I hugged him back before grabbing my luggage and heading towards the train.

The two boys followed me before one of them finally plucked up the courage to ask, "Do you uh, do you mind if we sit with you on the train?" The one with blue eyes asked, he was slightly taller than his other brunette counterpart.

I smiled back at him before coming across an empty cart, "Not at all!" When we filed into the cart a blond and another brunette- although her hair was almost black- walked in as well.

"Can we sit here? I'm afraid everywhere else is full." She spoke to the boy who asked earlier, but gave me a brief smile as well. The boy only gave a nod, motioning to the empty seats in the cart. "I'm Pansy by the way, Pansy Parkinson." She smiled, holding out her hand for me to shake before she sat down.

"Y/N!" I returned her smile, grabbing her hand to shake. "Y/N McGonagall."

"Like the professor?" The boy with gelled back blond hair sat on the other side of Pansy asked.

I nodded, smiling. "That's my grandmother!" I confirmed, before door to the cart slid open again. It was another brunette boy, his hair amess as he was slightly out of breath.

"Good! I finally found you. Or at least someone I know", he spoke to the other brunette who hadn't spoken since he got on the train. His eyes flickered across the cart, a new nervousness taking over his features. "I'm Lorenzo Berkshire, pleasure to meet you guys." he smiled and nodded before taking the empty seat nearest the door.

"Malfoy. Draco, Malfoy." The blond sitting across from him spoke, introducing himself.

Pansy and I reintroduced ourselves before the blue-eyed brunette spoke up. "Theodore Nott, and this bloke," he grinned before nudging the boy next to him, who only sent Theodore a glare, "is Mattheo Riddle."

No one in the cart batted an eye at his last name, not even me, which made the boy relax more. He gave a half awkward smile to all of us before going back to his rather default neutral expression. "So, what house is everyone hoping for?" Lorenzo asked as he clapped his hands, ending the rather awkward air that had fallen over the cart.

"Slytherin!" Pansy immediately responded, a grin now standing prominent on her features as I smiled at her. Draco nodded in agreement and Theodore murmured something along the lines of, 'of course'.

She shot him a glare. "Fine, Nott. You can go and be in Hufflepuff then." She challenged, causing Mattheo to snicker and almost genuinely laugh as Theo elbowed him in the side.

"Ouch. What about you, Y/N?" He asked me, wondering as the whole cart turned to me.

I could feel my face heat up before thinking about my response. "Well, my dad and grandmother were both in Gryffindor," I commented as the grin faded away from Pansy's face. "But, my mother was in Slytherin! She was a Prefect actually, and later Head Girl! So, I don't know." I smiled, shrugging.

This was enough to satisfy them as the conversation moved elsewhere. Soon enough the sweets trolley came through and everyone was now gorging on candy as we rode on to Hogwarts. "Don't take this the wrong way," Pansy leaned in, half-whispering in my ear, "but I really do hope you're in Slytherin." I gave her a quizzical look as she continued, "Don't get me wrong, these guys are great but I really need female friends." She laughed as I nodded, the boys looking at us questioningly as we giggled.

The cart door opening snapped all of our attention back towards the glass door, which now sat ajar. In it's place stood a girl, who like us, was in Hogwarts robes. Her hair was a lighter shade of brown, and bushy, rather it was all over the place. "Have any of you seen a toad? A boy named Neville has lost one." She asked, looking around the cart. Everyone shook their heads.

"I'm afraid not." I nodded as she stared at my luggage. I looked at her quizzically as everyone looked to me, and then back to her, and then to the luggage she was staring at. "Can... Can I help you?" I asked, looking at her rather concerned.

"That seal, on your luggage. That's Professor McGonagall's family seal." She spoke, it was rather a statement than a question.

I nodded. "She's my grandmother." I spoke before being startled as the girl walked towards me, sticking out her hand.

"I'm Hermione, Hermione Granger." She spoke confidently, seemingly ignoring everyone else in the room as if it was just the two of us.

"Y/N McGonagall." I spoke slowly, before shaking her hand. She gave a firm nod and walked out and off to the next cart. "That was... a tad weird." I laughed out, before we all started giggling and moving on to the next conversation.

It wasn't before long that the train rolled to a stop. "Next stop, Hogwarts." Theodore announced to the cabin before we grabbed our luggage and headed off.

We walked along the forest path before a loud voice boomed out, "First Years! This way." My brows furrowed as I stopped walking momentarily before continuing so my friends didn't leave me behind.

"I know that voice..." I trailed off as Pansy looked at me from where she walked at my side. "Hagrid!" I exclaimed as the half-giant turned his head towards me. He gave me a wink, waving at me before continuing to direct the rest of the first years. My smile now beamed on my face as I looked at the boats.

Lorenzo, Draco, Pansy, and Theo sat in the first boat, an apologetic look being cast from Pansy. "Sorry you two! Catch the next one though!" She smiled, waving as the two aforementioned boys began rowing before being assisted by magic.

I looked towards Mattheo, offering him a bright smile. "Looks like it's just you and me now." I smiled as I watched him get in the boat and then offer his hand out to help me down. "Looks like you're stuck with me." I took his hand, descending into the rickety wooden vessel.

A grin overtook his features as we began to row towards the castle. "Whatever will I do?" he joked as I chuckled before looking up to the castle, with only one thought on my mind.

I'm home.

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delicrieux · 5 months

Text

𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 & 𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐥𝐞 | endless oneshots (winter edition)

pairing—regulus black x reader genre—angstyyy summary—a moment shared in the living room word count—3.4k

masterlist. ☕. reqs are open!

the wall distracts you. the great family tree of the noble house of black. on their velvet sofa you find yourself quite small faced with the vastness of the room – in front, the magnificent tapestry of a lineage woven into time and into objects, like a permanent impact; in back, the frost covered windows, and further still, the late afternoon glow of the sun burning the whole of london. you imagine, briefly, yourself painted in. your small portrait and your name. you long for it in moments; you know no other wish. the shape of you has been made for this only.

how tedious. how meticulously exact the needlework must be to look appealing. how with your wand you can only return the inner lapel of regulus’ coat to its pristine condition and begin again. each time, the frustration threatens to spill through bitten lips. an uncaring loop thrusts through skin and hits bone. you give up, almost, with the silver thread coiled around your fingers like a hair. r. a. b. shouldn’t be too hard, should it? three letters only, sown by hand, a small, meaningless claim to a coat he already owns. as if he can’t recognize his things, how silly. by the seventh poke you wonder if this odyssey has any significance to it. why grapple to capture a tempest in a teapot? you could easily weave it into existence with magic.

it would still be a kind gesture, a thoughtful one. an affectionate one, even, if regulus cared to look – see the tired hands, the waxen expression, the lapel grasped so tightly. the look you’d give for a second because you couldn’t bear to be more honest than that. i did it for you, please wear it and think of me.

but no, it must be done by hand, else the magic won’t work. something about labor, the repetitive loop and pull that sows in more than letters. fixes more than thread. such a potent protection, only from what you can’t say. in a blood-warm waters of a dream, you puzzled over a crystalline cave in search of something precious, only you couldn’t recall what. in april of next year, regulus will die there, and you’ll never know. but he’ll wear the coat with his initials woven by your hand, and that will be enough.

you don’t look up when he enters, but you recognize the footsteps. regulus is never direct, at least, not with you. he’ll circle the tapestry and then circle the windows and circle the coffee table and then he’ll have nothing left to admire so he’ll admire you. sit beside, throw a glance at your pious work and draw, with his eyes, the shape of your profile. think, perhaps, of a branch of the family tree from his portrait to something that doesn’t yet exist, or the rose-bush pattern of the couch and how one branch connects his shoulder with yours.

“what are you doing?”

“making sure you don’t lose your things,” what a non-response, as if he’s known to misplace objects or articles of clothing. regulus can be careless, but never to warrant worry over useless matters such as this. he has many coats, and can purchase just as many if not more, and if petty, he can pilfer from sirius and row because the silence had grown too loud, “don’t make fun of me, it has to be hand-stitched or the enchantments will fade."

"i was never going to," he says, a faint twitch of amusement about the mouth. regulus always likes that you take his jokes seriously or his comments too light. that, from anyone else, you'd hardly even register. it makes him special, perhaps. as though only he is worth the recognition, or you desire him to have it, "...is this my birthday gift?"

"birthday, don't make me laugh," you mumble, biting the inside of your cheek, "would hardly be appropriate. it's a christmas gift."

"christmas." is the offhanded response. a statement, an assessment, but without judgement. only regulus can wield that so cooly. can live in between worlds that should not overlap. androgyne in tone and disposition, and the sound of it, your name, sweet as any chocolate. you glance up and smile wryly, "oh."

"oh indeed," you utter, and the final, hesitant thread is plunged to the fabric. his initials gleam as freshly cut silver. you offer him the needlework, "there." pride fits in your mouth like a candy well liked, sweetens the tone into something likely mocking, "not bad, is it, regulus? or perhaps you think hand-stitching is out of fashion and outdated, a lost art of our aristocratic roots."

regulus doesn't respond. his touch is a cautious one. fingers slide gently across the intricate curve of his initials and trail it upward to the collar and you pretend not to notice. regulus must always inspect things like an artist inspects his pieces. with a certain amount of scorn and longing.

"if it's for christmas," regulus says quietly, still running his fingers along the letters, "do i need to return a gift to you?"

you stop yourself short of giving the response that is right at the tip of your tongue. the verbiage is odd. instead, "return?"

"yes. to match, or rather, one that compliments. does such a custom matter much?"

"ah, well," it does, of course it does. such gifts are not for two sides. they're something sacred for one side only. he's not nimble with his fingers nor patient enough to wield a needle. he'd quit before the first draw of blood on cloth from his useless hands. he could magic it, but that would feel like a lie. what is this offer, or is it a suggestion? an implication? more daring than the look he gives you, certainly. no, he couldn't possibly imply something so domestic. regulus is not the type. so it can only be you reading too much. a stanza where there should be none, "you'd ruin my coat."

"naturally," regulus doesn't smile, not even to go along with his deadpanned tone, as though he could think of no better possibility, but you know better, or at least you tell yourself this. you do; how his head tips slightly towards you, the steady gaze, and the quirk of his brow, it's a rare breed of expression he dons only to you, when he can't bring himself to a more chaste form. you could spend hours sorting every fraction of difference, so keen they are to the point that you swear they must exist. you wouldn't be surprised if someone else says they see nothing,"... a handmade gift for a handmade gift. just for you."

"for me," is all you can muster in response, perhaps hoping you'd hear it clearer, and less vague and silly, in your mouth than his. he has given you presents. lovely, but impersonal. his brother shows more interest even if he has none for you. sirius hears but regulus listens and then willfully picks things everyone would like to receive. the ideal gifts, never with heart or consideration, yet you wear them proudly to hide your bitterness, because such attention is not unwanted, and neither is this. regulus is not incapable of more but his more is reduced to a subtle nothing, like a glance at the tapestry and a thought.

"...the needle's sharp." is the offhand observation, "you're bleeding."

regulus's concern is odd and undefined; you're not the most affectionate of friends. the fondness shared, the gentle jibes, are for you, really, because how else can you convince yourself you're happy. or to soothe the aching of that pesky hope, the wish and want of the moon reflected upon water. your gaze is steady. your hand is steady, "see how much i care?" and you hold up your middle finger with a smile, "i bleed for you."

he does look at it. his lips quirk into a ghost of a smile. "do you." he says, and returns to you, the trace of a frown on his face as though he's grown distressed with such a gesture, and like an adult will scold their pet for bad behavior, says, "really, that's quite silly. no, worse. don't do such unnecessary things to your pretty hands."

pretty, he says, and how easy would it be to mock him or put him in his place with a joke and a teasing word or two. is he making fun of you again? it's only an insult when delivered to the point. and it would feel worse when he isn't, when he's just offering a compliment in a strange sort of way.

"doesn't hurt that much." you say with a confidence unshaken, and the wounds are so meager they're not even worth healing. they'll dry and close before he can lift his wand for episkey or conjure a bandage. but they'll remain, for a day or two, as proof of your diligence. the methodical elegance that comes from creating a handmade gift. you'll look at your hands and know they have worked to protect him.

it hurts a bit more when he reaches for them. if you really did want to press, he'd insist or, with a haughty glare, defy you and prove the strength of his own silly pride, but he only asks, and then, does so with such tenderness you would think he held glass and not your injured hands, the result of a restless task meant for his comfort. your fingers stings the slightest against the brush of his fingertips, calloused and slightly cold, "...you've always been a fool."

"only when it matters," you say softly.

when he says your name, he lingers on the last syllable, with the tilt of his head and the curious narrow of his eyes. to pick apart and discern. to wonder. only briefly, like all his attentions, does the hand linger. the expression you want is not one he'd be willing to show so clearly, not even in the warmth of the dying light.

"stop saying ridiculous things." regulus says after a pause. he won't, however, release your hands. they remain there in his grip, unmoving and together.

"learn to take a joke," you answer.

he leans forward. "make it funny and perhaps i will."

"funny," you can't say a thing to that, yet you've thought up many. later, when he is asleep and his pale face is illuminated by the moonlit night, you'll recite all the things you could not.

"got nothing else to say?" a quirk of the lip. joined hands, fingers intertwined, though not so securely. loose enough that if the mood strikes or a strange sentiment overcomes him, he'd break them apart and away.

"oh, plenty," you can't keep your face straight, and so your smile is quick to return, "i’ve only taken pity on you. did you miss the sound of my voice already?"

"very presumptuous, aren't we," he glances aside, "and really, so outlandish. the nerve. you have the nerve."

"i suppose i do." you squeeze his hand lightly, "nerve. candor. the quality that earns a great admirer."

"or the ire of all who know you best," he tilts his head to the side, glances quickly at you, and with a surprising amount of assertiveness, curls his fingers tighter around yours, "i appreciate that you'd like to share your charisma but some people don't consider charm to be a particularly laudable virtue."

"that's such a bad lie that i might as well be told you don't think i'm charming at all, not in the slightest. and oh, there we are, what a pout. you're entirely predictable."

"and you entertain me, still."

"you're the one that holds my hands hostage," you note wryly, wiggling your fingers slightly.

regulus doesn't have a quick response for that. at most he offers the roll of his eyes. doesn't let go, simply presses. let's a drop of your blood stain his skin. when he speaks again, he's grown thoughtful, "...hostage, yes?"

"...oh, do stop that," a pause. the silence lingers, "no, that's quite unfair."

"do you think so or not?"

your pulse throbs loud enough to deafen you. it is a foolish question and the answer is a clear enough indication of what you think. what motive could he have? to delight at the humiliation of your confession or to watch you tangled in a lie you clearly don't believe? the truth is so obvious it's untactful to inquire about its validity.

he sounds so serious as his thumb brushes along the dips and hills of your knuckles, "well? your answer? or is a minute not enough to think of something witty?"

at this, you frown, "regulus." and it comes quiet, like a warning.

"thought it came naturally to you. such creativity."

he has grown to be cruel sometimes. most times, rather, when it suits him to be. a petty, petulant thing not yet ready to leave its comfortable shell and grow beyond, "you must be eager for me to release you," he adds. a bitter afterthought.

"are you done?" you ask.

"what shall you do with your hands once they’re free?" he wonders, "sow something for sirius? he’d be wrecked if he didn’t receive a gift like mine."

"regulus." you repeat with a frown, "don't."

"why not?" he blinks.

"a gift doesn't mean anything if it's a gift for the masses."

"well, it'll be custom, i imagine," he says, "with his initials this time."

"regulus," a third time you've said it, a sharp tongue to cut, "stop it. you're being mean."

his eyes are cast downward, expression impassive. "if this is what it takes to get you to respond, then perhaps i am."

this isn't the game. the one where he'll pretend not to care so as to observe how you'll react. it is the type where you'll act cold enough he'll hesitate. then he'll carelessly expose himself so the hurt can be delivered with ease. an offense so great you'll seek the sweet relief of exile.

"i made it for you," you utter, barely a whisper, "no one else."

"is that so."

"if you don't want it, i won't force you to keep it."

"no, i like it," his expression has remained the same, if not with a certain lack of conviction, a flat tone you want to interpret as some half lie, but you don't. instead you nod. a half-hearted turn of your head before meeting his eyes.

"a bit possessive, don't you think? getting so cross over a made up problem?" you inquire.

"made up, huh?" you like the inflections of his voice, and even in his reluctance he maintains them, the gentle flow, the steadfast determination to the subject.

"mhm."

"thought it was logical to assume. you're friends."

"i have a different gift planned for him."

"different?" he clarifies.

"quite," you say, all sorts of bitter, "a broom cleaning kit."

that, at least, seems to somewhat appease him. and regulus settles, ever so slightly, his brow a faint twitch. the motion you always want to trace with your fingers, and map along until you memorize every curve and line and plane of his face.

he adjusts your hands again, idly thumbing over the slope and curve. he is thoughtful again, contemplative and somber and nothing more. a lingering fear clings to the curve of his mouth, "do you ever wish you could disappear?"

the question has no context, and it strikes you as the type that never did, with a subtle heaviness he is familiar with the implications of. it is only in a selfish way that the fear occurs. his isolation, perhaps. or he must assume that all others can share a similar loneliness, though only in different quantities.

"do you?" you ask instead.

"perhaps. sometimes. maybe not." he does, you think, look as though he often considers running away to somewhere no one else is aware of him. or if he's not wanted there, then elsewhere. somewhere remote and a touch fantastical. a desperate escape from family tradition, from being the second born son. a desire, or rather, absconding from responsibility. to be far and forgotten; to live a life you believe would bring you some semblance of peace and happiness, though not enough for the longing to subside and never enough for him to admit to it. no, regulus would first die than admit it out loud.

admit the envy he has for his brother. admit to wonder if anyone would look for him if he was to disappear.

you would. even if the rest wouldn't, you would. and if they did, how angry it'd make them if you refused to quit searching. it strikes you suddenly and without remorse, as if you've been pushed into a pile of snow. it's him you were searching for in your dream.

"no, then?" his voice shakes you away. your expression had frozen over, had it? how rare it is, to see worry worn so openly in the shape of those brows.

"sometimes," you answer honestly, though you're never quite sure where that might be. a growing, restless worry expands in the pit of your stomach. as though your nightmare is not so far from becoming reality. that one day, you'll search for him to the edge of the earth only to never find him again, "you aren't thinking of leaving, are you?"

he's taken aback by your expression. "of course not," he reassures, and he seems as though he means it, "i'm only indulging hypotheticals."

"alright."

"are you okay?"

"sure. yes. yes, absolutely."

regulus peers at you closely, scrutinizing, the gesture intense and pointed in its nature. and he returns to tracing the veins on your skin, a practiced art. a light tickle that has you shivering, not that you'd want to move away. never from him.

you hear him, soft and hushed. perhaps it is more suited to the intimacy of the moment and not that he's become ashamed. a faint, lovely mumbling that you would like to indulge forever if possible, "i'm really not going anywhere." he brings your hand to his lips after a moment of hesitation, like he needs the courage, the comfort. an earnest reassurance in a form of a small kiss as if it were his own insecurities at play, "here's okay. here's more than enough."

you nod. whisper, when you realize how close the two of you have become, "yes, stay here."

"...you as well."

"i will."

"wouldn't want to run around looking for someone who's meant to stay within my sights, anyways."

and it is you that laughs a little too hard to seem genuine, "as though you'd do such a thing."

he answers with a confidence unshaken yet poorly disguised by the restraint shown, "i don't plan on ever losing sight of you."

your eyes meet and hold, but neither will ever confess to be the one who glanced away first. for different reasons, perhaps, and no less of a humiliation. no less difficult to accept. the sight of him is too difficult to bear; the hair framing his face and the gentle hue of pink that grows steadily redder the longer he holds your gaze. he drops your hand first, and you resist the urge to run your fingertips down the sharp of his jaw and feel the softness of his skin or tug his bottom lip and hear the shuddering intake of air. to feel what can't be expressed, at least, not so simply.

you can't blame regulus for not wanting to admit it. he's shaped by his surroundings, has grown up in a family that doesn't permit affections. he doesn't know the structure of i'm sorry or thank you or i love you. but if only for a second, surely, he can try to imitate. you treasure each of his clumsy syllables and failed tries because he has never attempted anything of this sort for anyone else. the success doesn't matter, because he is earnest, at least to the degree of his own understanding and limit, and it's easier to say what's painful in silence.

or, maybe, nothing's difficult when the sun's nearly gone. when the window pane burns pink and white, and when the stars appear through the haze of fog and snow, and you think of the future, with him, but as the heirs of two prominent houses together, and it feels like a fairy tale that way, not quite real. so long as you imagine it with a dreamy detachment, you can convince yourself it doesn't matter further than a wish that will never come true.

because you've never learned to say i'm sorry or thank you or i love you, either.

thank u for reading <3

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