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moncheriemoony · 7 hours

Note

can I request “tucking a strand of hair behind your partner's ear” with remus lupin? maybe him and shy!reader’s very first kiss?

thank you for requesting <3 so sorry it's taken me such a hefty chunk of time to get this written, hope you like it!

remus lupin x shy!reader, 2.7k

You were never really sure how to act around Remus. You were comfortable around him, of course. But it was hard for you to figure it out because you liked him. You liked him so much it scared you a little bit, because you’d never fancied anyone as much as you did him.

He was kind and funny and smart, loyal to a fault and protective over those he cared for. And sure, sometimes he could be a bit grumpy and rough around the edges, but that was what made him Remus.

Remus, who enjoyed your personal space as much as you did, it seemed, with the way he was always close to you.

Whether it was his long fingers intertwined with yours as you made your way through town, or one of his arms over your shoulders to whisper a snarky remark reserved only for your ears about how the overly dramatic story Sirius was in the middle of telling was a boldfaced lie the long haired boy had concocted to impress one of Lily’s mates whilst you were out with everyone.

Remus, who bought you flowers because they were pretty and thought you would like them even though the pollen sent him into sneezing fits that required him to sit across the room from them at all times.

You said you’d rather him not get them at all if his allergies were that bad, but he always shook his head instantly, claiming that sneezing and sniffling was nothing compared to how brightly you beamed when you spotted the bundle in his hand.

Remus, who wasn’t perfect by any means, but he was perfect for you.

You still hadn’t quite grasped the concept that he liked you the same way yet. It seemed like a dream that you never dared question because you didn’t want to wake up from it. Who would want to wake up from the bliss that was being the one person Remus fancied?

Maybe that’s why you hadn’t quite mustered up the courage to kiss him yet. There were a few times you’d come close, forgetting everything and letting his lips get within an inch of your own before chickening out and turning away at the last second. You were worried he’d find your reasoning for it silly.

It wasn’t that you didn’t want to kiss him. You really wanted to, but your inner voice won out every time, that stupid little voice in the back of your mind telling you he’d surely lose interest in you once he figured out you had no idea how to kiss someone. He’d know you’d never kissed anyone immediately, and he’d come to his senses and move along when he still could.

Part of you thought Remus was far too fond of you to be that harsh, but there was no beating that voice in your head. You didn’t want to jeopardize the good thing you had going with him.

He never questioned why you always seemed to pull away from him at the last minute. If anything he took it in stride, shifting his focus to anything else so you wouldn’t feel like you were putting him out.

You should’ve known his curiosity and even his frustration would come to head at some point. One day, he’d try again and finally voice his confusion.

You’d fallen asleep in his lap on this quite nice spring afternoon, after spending the morning out on a walk in one of the nearby gardens, not on purpose but rather a result of the warmth emanating from his body and the worn sofa you’d both collapsed on upon returning to your flat.

Truly, you didn’t know you’d drifted asleep until Remus coughed. It was quiet, but loud enough to stir you from your slumber, blinking awake slowly until you realized your cheek was pressed against his thigh.

Stifling a rather large yawn, you shifted onto your back, stretching your limbs out until your joints popped and your vision cleared. When it did, you zeroed in on Remus above you, waiting for you to notice him.

“You snore a little bit, did you know that?” He said coolly, cocking his head.

You pushed his head away from you playfully, fighting the grin threatening to overtake your lips at the sight of him peering down at you. “You were watching me sleep?”

“Very hard to read when I’ve got a foghorn in my lap.” He tutted, but the sticky sweet smile gracing his handsome face told you he was anything but annoyed.

His scar stretched when he smiled like that, the jagged white marring his face rounding out the apple of his cheek as it raised. Remus tended to be self conscious about it, but less so when your fingers came up to trace along it. Not intended to bring attention to it in any way, but to reinforce that it wasn't something that deterred you from him. He felt better about it after.

“Sorry.” You said sheepishly. In your scramble to an upright position, you completely missed the way Remus deflated as you moved away. “Good book?”

“Fine, I suppose. Good sleep?”

“Fine, I suppose.” You teased, bumping his shoulder with yours.

“Cheeky.”

“Been spending too much time with you.”

“Is that it?” He huffed out an amused chuckle, letting his hand fall onto your knee. You didn’t dare react, fighting the urge to allow your leg to bounce even when Remus’ fingers began to circle lightly. “What else about me is rubbing off on you?”

“Dunno. What do you think?”

“What do I think? I think…you don’t need any of my bad habits mucking you up, because you’re perfect the way you are.” Remus murmured. You averted your gaze from his, avoiding the softness in his expression in favor of focusing hard on a loose thread from your sock. He was being nice, like he always was, and you didn’t know how to react, like you always did. “Though an overthinker, maybe. Don’t dwell on it too long, love, you’ll only end up hurting yourself.”

“I don’t overthink.” You protested rather meekly, pouting. Remus made a disbelieving sound in response, lilting and a little bit teasing, but soft and fond nonetheless. He reached out, bumping his knuckles against your chin affectionately, letting his fingers travel a little further to push the hair away from your face.

Your skin felt like it was on fire when he brushed against your ear, even more so when his hand came back to settle at the curve of your jaw, thumb sweeping along the apple of your cheek tenderly. Almost too tenderly, with the way he was looking at you too.

Part of you wanted to steer the conversation in another direction, but you managed to push the feeling aside, wanting to see maybe, just maybe, if he moved to kiss you this time, you wouldn’t shy away.

Remus moved slowly like he didn’t want to spook you, getting closer and closer still.

Five inches. Four, three, two—no, you couldn’t do it. You shifted abruptly, teetering back on your palms under the guise of losing your balance.

Remus frowned, blinking slowly. His hand dropped from where it had been against your cheek, falling against his knee almost dejectedly. “Do you not like me?”

“Of course I like you,” You insisted. Obviously he wouldn’t believe you. Even you wouldn’t have believed you. Not at all to your surprise, he looked thoroughly unconvinced, so you tried again. “I do.”

“Right.” He said. His brows drew together in the middle, one hand coming up to scratch at the back of his neck. “Right, you say that, but every time I get close to you, or I try to kiss you, or god forbid I try to pay you a compliment, you always pull away. I haven’t said anything before, because I figured you’d clue me in when you were ready, but you haven’t.”

“Rem…” You sighed, drawing your knees towards your chest. His shoulders lifted up by his ears, dropping into a resigned shrug as he searched your face for any semblance of an explanation.

“Is it me? Am I misreading this whole thing? I don’t—I don’t know what’s happening.” He was frustrated, you could tell. Frustrated, confused, maybe even a little disappointed, and with good reason. “I know you don’t like opening up, but it’s me, love. You can talk to me, right?”

You twisted your lips to the side, suddenly feeling all kinds of embarrassed. Remus thought you didn’t like him because of the way you acted around him. You wouldn’t lose him because of what you were doing; you’d more likely lose him because of what you weren’t doing.

Things needed to change, now, and you were the only one who could change them.

“I don’t know what I’m doing, Remus.”

“Does anyone really know what they’re doing?”

“No I mean, like, I’ve never been in a relationship before. I don’t know what to do around you, how to act. So I just…”

“Shut down?” He offered, not malicious in any way, but understanding. Remus was always just that. Understanding. You nodded wordlessly. “That’s the thing about relationships. There’s no single right way to be in one. You’ve just got to figure out what works best for the both of you. We need to figure things out, but we can’t do that if we don’t communicate.”

You sighed, letting your chin dip towards your chest. “I’m sorry, Remus.”

“Oh, you.” He said fondly, maybe even a little bit sadly. “You’ve not got anything to be sorry about at all. Now we know where to start.” His palm skated over your knee, up, up, up until he was met with soft skin against the rougher pads of his fingers. Goosebumps raised at his touch and he smiled softly again, not-so-secretly pleased he could elicit that kind of reaction from you. “You’re doing fine, love. Thank you for telling me.”

“There’s something else too. Why I haven’t let you kiss me yet.”

“Why?”

“I’ve never kissed anyone before.” You mumbled, voice muffled by the sleeve of your jumper.

He squinted at you, leaning in closer, as if somehow heard you wrong. “Come again?”

“I’ve never kissed anyone before.” You repeated, as loud as you could muster. “I was afraid you’d leave me when you found out. That you’d think it was weird and off putting and you wouldn’t like me anymore.”

Remus blinked at you, long and slow. It sure was something to process, you knew that.

It’s not like you were expecting him to understand or come to terms with your reasons right away. You’d been battling with these thoughts every time you were with him, even more when you weren’t. This was brand new information for him.

What you definitely weren’t expecting him to do was snort. Your nose wrinkled in immediate offense, even more so he cracked a smile.

“You really thought I’d leave you because you’ve never kissed anyone?”

You scowled, cheeks burning hot with embarrassment as you folded your arms over your chest stiffly. “Well now that you’re the one saying it out loud, it sounds stupid.”

“It is!”

“Don’t be mean, Remus!!” You huffed. You angled yourself away from him to stare angrily out the window, brows furrowed tightly, shoulders hunched.

Before you could brood too much, his large hands spun you right back around to face him again. He wasn’t smiling at you the way he was before, but you could still see the leftover twinkle in his eyes and it definitely didn’t make you feel better.

“You’re being silly, love. You really thought I’d leave you because you haven’t kissed anyone before?” He repeated, ducking to catch your gaze with your every attempt to avoid his. You turned away from him, he chased after you, like some weird game of cat and mouse.

Eventually you grew tired of it and you looked him square in the eye, jaw set. “Yes I did, and I’d appreciate it if you stopped saying it like that.” The corners of Remus’ mouth quirked up into a tiny smile. “Don’t you dare laugh at me, Lupin.”

“Oh, now we’re on a last name basis?” He replied, brows raised in amusement. “I’m not going to laugh at you. I think you’re being ridiculous, but I like it.”

“Ridiculous is even worse than silly!” You spluttered, losing your nerve from before at the risk of sounding whiny. You’d stomp your foot to bring your point across even more, but that seemed a little too dramatic for the situation. Settling for a deep frown, you scowled at your boyfriend, moving to rise off the couch.

“No, wait—I’m sorry, I’ll be serious now, I promise.” He insisted, holding his hands up palm out in front of him. “No more poking fun, you have my word.”

“Fine.”

“Look, I don’t care that you’ve never snogged anyone before. In fact, that’s good news for me—means you won’t be able to tell if I’m absolutely shit at it.”

“I thought you were being serious now.” You grumbled.

“I am! I am. Y/N, I…” Remus hesitated, raking a hand back through his hair. “I’ve never felt the way I do for you with anyone else before. And I haven’t really, erm, been with a lot of people, so this, with you, it's special to me.”

“Me too.”

“I guess what I’m trying to say is, I’m sorry if it feels like I’m going too fast, or pushing you into something you’re not comfortable with. You can always tell me to fuck off and I’ll understand.”

“It doesn’t.” You said quickly, shaking your head. Still, he looked skeptical, bordering on guilty. “You don’t. You’ve never made me feel uncomfortable. It’s actually the opposite. I…I feel more like myself when I’m around you. You make me feel safe, Remus. To be who I am, to say what I want. I just—I’m still trying to figure out what that means, and sometimes it makes me unsure of myself.”

You weren’t even sure where all the words were coming from, but as soon as they left your mouth you knew they were true.

“I know the feeling.” He murmured, letting you take his hand in yours. His thumb rubbed along your knuckles absentmindedly. “For what it’s worth, I reckon you’re bloody great. And I’m glad you feel safe with me. That you feel like you can be yourself. Means I’ve done something right.”

“You’ve done everything right, Remus. I’m the one who can’t get over myself and be who you deserve.”

“Hey, hey, stop that.” He chided, giving a firm shake of his head. “You’re already everything I deserve and more.”

“You’re too sweet to me.” You frowned, leaning into him. His arm swept across your back, fingers curling around your shoulder to bring you even closer, a swift move punctuated with a kiss to the top of your head. You angled yourself so you were looking up at him, ready to gauge his reaction to your next question. “Can you…kiss me now?”

Remus’ brows flew high. “Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“We don’t have to if you don’t want to. I can wait, I promise. I—”

“Will you shut up and kiss me, Remus?”

Remus lifted your chin with two fingers, rich coffee eyes searching your own for any ounce of hesitation and coming up empty, before closing the gap between you swiftly, but not rushed. Firm, but not aggressive. He kissed you much like the way he acted around you.

Even though you were more or less just following his lead, kissing Remus came to you easier than you thought it would. His hand slid up to the back of your neck. Yours bunched into the front of his jumper like you’d done it before, subconsciously tugging him closer until he’d backed you up against the opposite armrest of the couch, one arm braced on either side of you to hold himself up.

His body blanketed yours, lips leading to the edge of something more before he pulled away. He studied you again, reveling in the dazed look in your eyes as you both caught your breath. “How was that for your first kiss?”

“Mm, good,” You hummed, still a bit taken aback (in the best possible way).

“Top marks?”

“Absolutely.”

“Alright if I go for extra credit?”

“Please.”

Now that you’d finally managed to kiss Remus, you didn’t want to stop. You honestly didn’t think he’d mind if you never stopped. You certainly wouldn’t.

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moncheriemoony · 7 hours

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heartthrob!remus loves making you blush. he'll use any chance he gets to make you flush. in public, he'll slip a hand around your waist or softly pinch the side of your hip. when you look up at him, he'll just flash his pearly white smile like nothing ever happened. at home, he'll purposely try to make you as embarrassed as possible. he'll ruffle up your hair, cuddle you on the couch, kiss your nose. anything that would make you turn red.

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moncheriemoony · 9 hours

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taylor swift albums + opening lines

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moncheriemoony · 9 hours

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how much sad did you think i had? did you think i had in me?

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moncheriemoony · 1 day

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TTPD [art by me] (alternate background under the cut)

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moncheriemoony · 4 days

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Oh, how you’d changed him

Tom Riddle x Reader

Summary: how you’d changed Tom and his life for the better, and how ridiculous his previous plans seemed after that.

Tom had carefully planned out his world domination, created his alias Lord Voldemort and the horrors that would go with him. He decided that he would single-handedly take over the wizarding world by any means necessary and reek havoc amongst the weaklings that surrounded him. This; a plan he had created since he was merely a boy, determined to return what this cruel world had forced upon him - sorrow and pain.

Until he met you. To Tom, you were like a breath of fresh air, an unbeatable presence with bright and hopeful features that offered a sense of peace in his life. You had been acquaintances since first year, however had become more familiar in sixth-year potions, just as he was plotting his first horcruxes along with the basallisk attack, you had been assigned as station-partners in the early September of that year.

When your names had been read Tom quirked a brow, however was not disappointed with the testily - having duly noted your previous achievements in the subject and feeling as though you could come in handy later down the line when his domination was more of a priority than his studies, but his world came crashing down when you turned in your seat to examine him.

Tom was lead to believe that he was incapable of love. A monotone psychopathic freak lacking human emotions, yet obtaining alien abilities. It when your eyes looked him over and your hair swayed behind your shoulders, he was unable to ignore the way his heartbeat quickened and breath faltered, in Tom’s eyes you were unfathomably gorgeous and he was unable to look away, a Medusa incapable of stoning her victims.

You held your hand out calmly and he admired the way your posture was straight and head held in a confident stature. “Y/n,” you said, lips soft and plump and voice soothing and gentle. “Tom,” he replied, voice failing him as he fumbled over his words with a stutter - something having never happened to him previously. You giggled at his mistake and he found himself enjoying the sound, instinctively making it his mission to hear it once more, unable to stop the smile appearing on his lips.

Tom also appreciated your knack for perfection. Your potions never failed to exceed beyond perfection and your applause was always deserved, taken with a humble nod to your peers before you set out defying the next odds in your path.

Naturally, Tom began to gravitate towards you outside of lectures, also. He’d find himself on the path to walk you to class or accompany you to the dinner table, or beside you in the library studying beyond the librarian’s patience and working hours. Tom found comfort in your presence and allowed himself to indulge regardless of what ‘Lord Voldemort’ told him to do.

Eventually, he’d offered his arm to stroll down with you to Hogsmeade on a chilly autum day, a few weeks before Christmas celebrations would commence and the winter solstice would turn the Scottish highlands surrounding you into an awe-worthy winter wonderland. “May I accompany you to Hogsmeade?” Tom asked with a small smile, holding his arm out to you while you friends giggled and pushed you towards him. You’d laughed with him as you threaded your forearm alongside his, joining you both at the hip while you replied: “yes, you may Tommy.”

Strangely, he never felt any kind of resentment to any nickname you’d give him other than his name. He welcomed your names with open arms and answered to nearly any plausible noun that passed his lips. He even bought you butterbeer to warm your frostbitten lips, sipping simultaneously while the barmaid offered a few obvious knowing glances.

You shivered as you walked on, the many layers you had adorned on top of your skin no match for the ever-growing cold attacking Hogwarts and found yourself struggling with chattering teeth. Tom immediately removed his long coat and wrapped it around you, admiring both the chivalry of his actions and the satisfied smile on your face when your body temperature started to rise. “No, no, Tom. You’ll get cold.” You said, a reluctant whine passing your lips to which he shrugged. With anyone else, he would’ve let you freeze to death, but not you. He would die for you, freeze to death if you will. “I’m fine, I’m more concerned about getting you back to the castle without hypothermia.” He says with a small chuckle, pulling you into his side by the waist. “I guess you aren’t so cold-hearted as you make yourself out to be, Tom Riddle.” He looks down at you and considers your words for a few seconds.

“You confuse me, y/n. I’ve never felt so warm and gleeful around a person yet you never fail to bring a smile to my face. Teach me how to do that.” I instructs but you shake your head no gently. “I cannot do that simply due to the face that you do it to me, also.” You reply, each exchanging knowing glances between each others eyes and lips. He leans down and traps your lips with his own, warming your body through a simple yet sophisticated gesture and from that day forward you were referred to as his girlfriend.

Of course, however he had also come clean about his upbringing and eventually the chamber and the basilisk. He had told you he was conceived under the influence of a love spell and believed that he was incapable of loving until he had met you. You laid on his bed as you talked; his head on your chest while you weaved your fingers thought his chestnut locks and listened to him. “I read a while back now about a recently investigated muggle issue called autism and it has occurred to me that you’re not incapable of love, you have asbergers Tom. I’ll read the passage to you later.” And all of a sudden all of his unjustified emotions and troubles made sense and he could finally find an unknowingly lost sense of peace within himself knowing what truly made him into the Tom Riddle he was.

When he took you into the chamber he’d told you all about his plan for domination and his large magical snake and how he had a few followers and you never judged him once. If anything you thought it was impressive that he yearned for revenge instead of acceptance but reasoned that perhaps an oversized snake and a killing spree were not the solutions he was searching for. The basilisk lived shrunken to normal size in a glass cage beside his bed after that.

And as the time went by and your relationship flourished, Voldemort seemed more like a past phase than a goal and was more focused on the life he going to create with you. He called his ‘followers’ pathetic and told them to get a life when they questioned his authority over their devotion.

Eventually, it came time for you to graduate and Tom’s hand was tightly clasped in your own as you looked at the castle for a final time. You were silent, acknowledging the end of this era and slowly coming to terms with it. After a while, Tom scoffed. “World domination.” He said with a smile shaking his head. “Who’s ever heard of such a thing?” He turned and picked up your bags along with his own. “Ready to go, darling?”

The two of you had shared your own compartment on the train ride home, others finding their own cubbies as Tom scared them off from sitting with you. Your head was rested on his shoulder as he read a muggle book to you that you had bought the previous summer ‘the great gatsby’. It was a deep and considerate book and made you think about your future, also.

“What’re we going to do now?” You ask out of the blue, interrupting his sentence as he simply closes his book and looks down at you, your face deep in thought. “Well,” he hummed, thinking for a moment. “We’ve booked that cottage in the Peak District for a few weeks, how about we think it all out then?” And you nod. “Sounds like a plan then.”

The next few weeks were spent waking together in the high peaks of the muggle countryside, simply talking and appreciating one another’s company and plotting your lives.

“Is it bad that I want to stay here forever?” You ask him, looking out at the sunsetting one warm winter evening. Tom thinks thoughtfully before saying “if it is then it’s bad that I want to stay here too.” As a pureblood witch you were born under the believe that muggle life was pointless and undeserving, and as had Tom - but together you realised you preferred the quiet and solitary, and not needing to use magic to do everything all of the time. It was a change. And it was nice.

One morning mid-august Tom was reading the newspaper and you were making you both toast. “Someone’s selling the property up the street.” He says and you sip on your drink and look out of the window. “What? The old farmhouse.” “No, the one with the long drive and vines up the side.” You sigh dreamily. “Oh, if only.” You say with a chuckle. “Darling we can afford it.” Tom says and you stay in silence for a moment, sharing the thoughts weaving through your minds. “It wouldn’t take up a large chunk of our savings.” He drops his reading glasses to the end of his nose and smirks. “We’re rich in muggle terms.” You laugh and shake your head at him. “You’re so humble, Riddle.” He stands up and slides his hands around your waist to hold you close as you share the view of the house in question. “We’re buying it.” He spoke after a while, finalising his decision. “What happened to the ‘I hate muggles and never want to be amongst them’?” You ask, turning to him with a cocked brow. He just shrugs. “They were Voldemort’s views. Not mine.”

Matter several months going back and forth with the previous owners and settling on an asking price, you were standing in front of the house- your house, beside tom, exactly how you had when you were leaving Hogwarts. “This is our house.” You say, not taking your eyes off of the scenic view before you. Tom takes you into his side and rubs your arm comfortingly before kissing your temple. “Our home.”

Tom became an Auror, acting as an undercover wizard in the muggle setting catching and reporting any source of dark or unrightfully used magic. You took up being a healer, training in the wizarding world but practising in your home village, being known as a respectable young doctor who all the elderly or adjacent citizens resided in to get treatment - and anything you gave them always worked.

It was a spring morning when you were down at the bakery picking up a loaf of bread for your dinners. “How’s that fella of yours?” The lady asked with a smirk. “Oh Tom’s fine, just left for work.” “Popped the question yet?” The old woman asks, elbowing you slightly. “We’re only twenty Agatha!” You say with a laugh. “Well, Arthur and I were married when we were nineteen.” She crossed her arms. “I thought you were telling me how much you hated him?” You laugh. “Oh he gets on my wire, but we were still married!”

That left you with the thought in your mind for the remainder of the day - you’d decided that Tom Riddle was the man you wanted to spend the rest of your life with and then some.

In February you both took a trip down to the Lake District and rented a boat house with a large lake, your jobs and ‘trust funds’ inherited from family members allowed you to do this rather frequently and easily, nothing out of the ordinary to take a trip for a long weekend.

It was at sunset, rather early due to daylight saving hours when you rowed out onto the lake to just sit in tranquility for a little while, appreciating the quiet time together. You’d rose to your feet, sure that you had seen an owl fly by and when you turned around, Tom was on one knee, box in hand. In the box, the ring of Salazar Slytherin himself with a bunch of roses in the other.

“Agatha told me today is Cupid’s holiday.” He say, voice just beyond a whisper as a smile grew on your face and tears formed. “You know, until I was sixteen I was asphyxiated with the idea of taking over the world, finding a victim to take the pain that I felt. But those silly little thoughts were gone when I met you, the only person I live and breathe for. I never thought I could, however I love you, yn ln. And it would do me great honour if you would be my wife.”

You’d kissed and hugged him and wept into his shoulder as you happily embraced - ready to start the rest of your lives together. There were no other young women in the village and your parents had practically alienated you when you went to live with muggles so the ladies who attended your doctors practise took you shopping for your wedding dress - Tom insisted on paying.

Dolly was brutally honest and Susan started crying, Agatha kissed you and called you her daughter and it was certainly a day to remember - a gorgeous fitting dress, white and highlighting your features gracefully.

You’d gotten married in the village church, an audience of your neighbours and close friends and a few companions from school, Agatha was your maid of honour and Greta your flower girl, gleaming smile on her face while her husband rolled her down the isle in her wheelchair while she sassily threw rose petals. And Dumbledore was sat in the front row, a smart suit on while he smiled at the man the little evil boy turned out to be, and the gorgeous woman you had flourished into.

It was a beautiful ceremony and a beautiful day. And you were now the beautiful yn Riddle.

In September, Abraxas Malfoy and his wife wanted to celebrate their wedding anniversary and asked if they would drop their son, Lucius off for the week so they could go away. You and Tom decided to take the week off work and look after him, after all, the young lad needed to be accustomed to his god parents!

One evening Lucius had pleaded with you to go sit in the garden and paint together and of course you complied, taking the supplied and the young boy on your hip, and headed for the grass to make a mess. And make a mess you did, there was red in your hair and blue on his white libel shirt, and hardly anything on the page. Tom watched from the window sipping on a cup of tea, watching as you interacted with the young boy so naturally, tickling his stomach and laughing as you played hidey-boo. It created an odd twang in his stomach, the same he had felt when he had first laid eyes on you.

One day when the boy had been reunited with his parents, Tom had been sent on a mission to retrieve an escaped boggart. During his time at Hogwarts, his biggest was recognisably his own dead corpse, but when he approached the creature, it’s form was your grave with him sat looking deathly ill beside it weeping. Your headstone read ‘a loving wife and doctor, no children’ his stomach dropped when he realised what he needed. What he needed right now.

He got home that night and held you close and cried, feeling you warm and full of life. You caressed his shaking body as you soothes him, and when he had calmed he had taken your face into his hands and cradled it, telling you suddenly “yn I want a baby.”

Throughout your pregnancy, Tom was tender and reluctant to let you move without him being beside you. He became more protective than he already was an even took an extended paternity leave just before your due date.

Prior to that however, he worshiped you like a goddess. He would make you decaf tea - something you grumbled about but he refused to listen. He stopped smoking his pipe inside the house, instead taking it to the end of the garden while he and Mr Garson next door chatted about his wife and you. He made you lay on the settee and sat on the floor beside your growing stomach while he read old wives tales from a book inherited from his mother. He even sang to it once or twice. After the sixth month mark when your belly was becoming noticeably plump to the point you could rest your tea cup upon it without it falling off, he began carrying you everywhere. Regardless of how far the distance, and the fact you were carrying another human, he acted as though you were a feather that needed assistance and carried you the way he did on your wedding night.

When you took your own maternity leave, he was even more pleased - before he’d sit beside you in your doctors office and never took his eyes off of you, now he needn’t a reason to why. In his eyes, his love was pregnant and needed tending too. He’d shower with you and lift your stomach until he saw the face of satisfaction he knew well and loved. And he’d be lying if he said the breasts you were growing didn’t make his mouth water, as well as the fact there was a possibility that he could impregnate a pregnant woman - a thought that drove him wild but alas after many attempts, it was eventually an unsuccessful mission.

And in the next July, Tom was sweating as he held your hand and felt a great pain as you cried in agony beside him. You were in a muggle hospital, Agatha had awoken in the middle of the night and heard your pained cries and ordered her husband, Mr Garson to drive you to the hospital which he did, adjusting his thick-lenses on his glasses and having to be awoken a few times at the wheel from Tom’s furious barks, but you made it on one piece, and at quarter to ten, you produced him a son, deciding on naming him Mattheo Riddle.

After giving him a bath, the midwife’s tried to take him away ‘give you a break’, but you refused. Groggily saying “I’ve only had him ten minutes why would I need a break.” And Tom soon shooed them off, getting into the bed beside you and holding your son skin-to-skin as he slept on his fathers chest, and you on his shoulder. When you drifted off he kissed the top of your head gently and whispered sweetly “well done, mummy.”

Tom was determined to be the father he didn’t have. And a good one at that.

Mr and Mrs Garson cried when you asked them to be the godparents, you would’ve appointed the role to everyone in this village if you could - your own little family larger than it seemed.

The newborn stage went by awefully fast and you and Tom self with every hurdle and hiccup together, all the nappies and sick, and the 3AM walks when baby Matty would not settle. It was gone and soon you had a walking talking toddler of whom you were both awfully proud of.

The chilly autumnal eves suddenly turned into even colder winter morns, Christmas was making its rounds in the muggle world and you and Tom had became accustomed to it. You decorated the tree, hung candles, sung carols, gave presents and ate specialty meals on the 25th. Tom sat in his armchair, Mattheo on lap, reading glasses down to the end of his nose as he read A Christmas Carol to him.

You were making dinner, Mince Pie was on the menu that night in particular, and you smiled as you notice the snow falling. You wiped your hands and leant against the doorframe watching your two boys in awe, just memorising the picture for a moment. “Are you alright, my love?” Tom asked, smiling up at you. “Just admiring the picture.” You say, mirroring his grin. Then you turn to your son. “I’m awfully sorry to interrupt, master Riddle. However, so I do believe it is snowing.” He gasped dramatically when he heard the news. “Snow! But we’re reading! But snow!” You both laugh at his dilemma then suggest “how about we eat dinner, then we’ll read out in the snow and make a snowman.” The young boy squeals in delight and runs to the dining room to eat, sitting ever so patiently yet with an impatient smile on those cheeky lips.

That evening you built a snowman, read the last part of the book, and put your son peacefully to sleep in his bed after singing ‘Silent Night’ to him. You and Tom basked in the sight for a moment, just taking in the calmness of the setting.

And as Tom looked down at you, he thought of how you’d changed him.

*scoff* Lord Voldemort, who’d ever heard of anything so ridiculous?

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moncheriemoony · 4 days

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In a world full of boys, he's a gentleman <3

Synopsis: the Slytherin boys and the 'gentleman' things they do Warnings: None :) Characters: Mattheo Riddle, Theodore Nott, Tom Riddle, Blaise Zabini, Jasper Rowle

This is Part 1 :)

Mattheo Riddle: opening doors for you

"Hey there, my love," Mattheo greeted, flashing a grin as he held the door open for you. You rolled your eyes playfully at the endearment, a fond smile tugging at your lips as you looked up at your boyfriend.

"Always the gentleman, huh?" you teased, stepping through the door of the Slytherin common room as he held open with a light chuckle.

"Hey, gotta treat my girl right," he replied, trailing behind and falling into step beside you. He nudged you gently with his elbow, his laid-back demeanor effortlessly charming.

He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to the side of your head. His lips lingered for a moment, and you couldn't help but blush at the tenderness of the gesture. "You're my everything," he whispered, his voice filled with genuine adoration.

Whether they were heading to class, grabbing a bite to eat, or just strolling through the castle halls, Mattheo made it a point to hold doors open for you. It wasn't a grand gesture, just a simple act of courtesy, but it spoke volumes about his thoughtfulness.

"You spoil me too much, you know that?" you remarked with a grin, as Mattheo held the door of his dorm for you.

He chuckled, his eyes sparkling with affection. "Can't help it. You deserve the world," he shrugged, following you inside. He wrapped his arms around your waist, playfully throwing you on the bed before snuggling up next to you, holding you tightly against his chest.

Their laughter filled the air as they chatted about anything and everything, discussing everything from stupid things their friends had done recently to their favourite movies. Mattheo listened intently, his eyes lighting up as they shared their stories.

Theodore Nott: Holds your face with both hands when kissing you

"Hey," Theodore greeted softly, his fingers trailing gently along your jawline before cupping your face tenderly, drawing you into a sweet kiss. His touch was always gentle, his palms cradling your cheeks as if you were the most precious thing in his world.

"Hi," you whispered against his lips, smiling as he leaned in to press another soft kiss, his touch grounding and comforting.

"Did you have a good day?" Theodore asked, his thumb brushing lightly over your cheek as he held your face in his hands.

"Mmm, it was alright. Nothing compared to this though," you replied, your voice softening as he leaned in for another kiss, his touch sending a shiver down your spine.

He pulled back slightly, his hands still cupping your face, his eyes filled with warmth as he gazed at you. "You always make everything better."

"You too," you said, feeling a surge of affection as his touch lingered, his fingers tracing delicate patterns along your skin.

"Can I just kiss you forever?" he murmured, his forehead resting against yours, his touch never leaving your face.

"That sounds like a plan," you chuckled, enjoying the feeling of his hands on your cheeks, grounding you in the moment.

As he leaned in for another kiss, his hands framed your face once more, holding you gently but firmly, his touch sending a rush of warmth through you. Each kiss felt like a silent declaration of his love and care, his hands a constant reassurance that you were cherished.

"Promise me something," he said softly, his gaze intense as he held your face in his hands, his touch so tender it made your heart flutter.

"Anything," you replied, feeling a rush of emotion at the sincerity in his eyes.

"Promise you'll never forget how much you mean to me," he whispered, his hands trembling ever so slightly against your skin.

"I promise," you said, your voice barely above a whisper, overwhelmed by the depth of his feelings.

Theodore smiled, his touch becoming even more gentle, as if he was memorizing every contour of your face. "I love you," he murmured, his lips brushing against yours in a feather-light kiss.

"I love you too," you replied, feeling a surge of emotion as his hands cradled your face.

Tom Riddle: Subtle things to make sure you don't get hurt

In the midst of a quiet classroom, Tom and you sat side by side, the ambiance filled with the hushed tones of a lecture. You were unconsciously fiddling with your quill as your tired eyes lingered on the teacher, doing your best to listen to whatever he was saying.

A small sigh slipt from your lips as your dropped your quill, the small object rolling under your desk. As you leaned down to retrieve your quill, Tom subtly shifted, his hand discreetly finding its place at the edge of the desk, ensuring you wouldn't hit your head upon rising.

"Thanks love," you whispered, meeting his eyes for a fleeting moment, noticing the faint blush that graced his cheeks as he quickly looked away.

"Wouldn't want you getting hurt," he murmured, his voice barely audible, trying to cloak his concern with an air of indifference as his eyes went back to the teacher.

"I appreciate it," you replied softly, a small smile playing on your lips, acknowledging his unspoken worry.

Throughout the class, the subtle ways Tom looked out for you were apparent. Whether adjusting his posture to prevent you from bumping elbows or discreetly sliding a book closer to your reach, his actions spoke louder than his reserved words.

As the lesson progressed, you dropped a parchment, and before you could react, Tom swiftly picked it up without a word, his gaze briefly meeting yours with a hint of concern before retreating into his usual stoic demeanor.

"Thanks," you said, your voice warm with gratitude, feeling the corners of his lips twitch into the faintest hint of a smile before he composed himself.

"Merlin you're an idiot," he mumbled under his breath, a small smile twitching on the corner of his lips. He loved you, and he did his best to show it. To some, these may just seem like small gestures, but to you, these acts meant everything.

Blaise Zabini: Looking after you while you are sick

"Blaise, I think I'm dying," you groaned, your voice muffled by the mountain of blankets you'd buried yourself under. The room echoed with your misery, and you could practically feel Blaise's amused gaze on you.

"Quite the melodrama you've got going on there," he chuckled, entering the room with a tray in hand.

You peeked out from under the blankets, giving him a weak glare. "This is not melodrama. I'm genuinely dying. I might need to write my will."

He raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing on his lips. "Last I checked, you're broke. And if you're going to die, at least wait until you've cleaned up the mess in the bathroom."

You shot him a scowl before returning to your cocoon of misery. "I'll have you know that this is a serious illness. I even got Pansy to get me a book from the library so I can read about my symptoms."

He set the tray on the bedside table, glancing at you with a mix of amusement and skepticism. "And let me guess, according to Dr. know it all, you have a rare tropical disease only found in the depths of the Amazon rainforest?"

"No, it says I have a severe case of man flu," you deadpanned, voice muffled by the blankets.

Blaise burst into laughter. "Man flu? Really?"

You shot him a glare from under the covers.

He shook his head, still chuckling. "Ok, ok. I come bearing gifts to nurse you back to health."

He lifted the tray to reveal a steaming bowl of soup and a cup of hot tea. Your eyes lit up, and you managed to sit up, sniffling pathetically.

"Ah, the healing powers of chicken soup," he declared dramatically, handing you the bowl.

You took it gratefully, inhaling the comforting aroma. "You're the best, you know that?"

"I try," he said with a wink, settling onto the bed beside you. "Now, eat up. We can't have you wasting away on my watch."

As you sipped the soup, Blaise watched you with a soft smile. "Feeling a bit better already?"

You nodded, the warmth of the soup soothing both your throat and your mood. "Maybe I won't die today after all."

He chuckled, running a hand through your hair. "Good to know. I was planning on having a quiet night in, not attending a funeral."

You swatted him playfully, earning a smirk from Blaise. "You're lucky I'm too weak to defend myself properly."

"Consider it a mercy on my part," he teased, taking a sip of his own tea.

As the night wore on, Blaise stayed by your side, occasionally offering more soup, fetching tissues, and regaling you with stories to keep your mind off your misery.

"You're surprisingly good at this whole nurse thing," you admitted, snuggling into the blankets.

He grinned, placing a gentle kiss on your forehead. "Well, when the patient is you, it's almost enjoyable."

You rolled your eyes, but a small smile played on your lips. "I must be really sick for you to admit that."

He chuckled, wrapping his arms around you. "Maybe you're just bringing out my softer side."

You sighed dramatically. "I never signed up for a softer Blaise Zabini."

"Too late now," he replied with a smirk, holding you a little tighter. "You're stuck with me, even if I have to nurse you back to health every now and then."

You leaned into his embrace, feeling grateful for the care and comfort he provided. "I suppose I can live with that."

And as you drifted off to sleep, wrapped in blankets and the warmth of Blaise's presence, you couldn't help but feel that maybe being sick wasn't so bad after all, especially when you had someone like him to take care of you.

(This is my favourite for sure)

Jasper Rowle: Doing your shoelaces

The sun had dipped below the horizon, casting a soft golden glow into the room as you and Jasper sat comfortably on a bench in Hogsmede just of to the side of Zonko's, enjoying a leisurely stroll that had turned into a serene moment of shared silence.

"Oops," you pouted, looking down at your untied shoelaces, a small sigh falling from your lips as you went to go and tie your laces.

"I've got it darlin'," Jasper said with a gentle smile, bending down on one knee before her.

"Jasper, you really don't have to," you protested, a faint blush gracing your cheeks at the unexpected gesture.

He shook his head with a grin, his fingers deftly working on your shoelaces. "I've got it, can't have my girl tripping on her own shoelaces, can I?"

You chuckled softly, unable to hide your affectionate smile as you watched him tie the laces with care. "You're too good to me, you know that?"

He glanced up at her with a warm smile. "'Just don't want you getting hurt."

As he finished, he ran his thumb over your knee softly a few times before standing up and placing a gentle kiss on the top of your head, causing your heart to flutter. The simple act filled you with warmth and adoration.

"Thank you," you murmured, touched by his gesture.

"Anytime, my love."

Their fingers intertwined as they resumed their stroll through Hogsmede, the cool breeze carrying the faint scent of baked goods, more than likely from a stall near by. The world seemed to slow down around them as they walked hand in hand, enjoying each other's company.

Hi all! This is my first post, hope you enjoyed it :) I take requests for many different fandoms and characters <3

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moncheriemoony · 4 days

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t.s - the prophecy 🌙🖤

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moncheriemoony · 4 days

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Ooooo Mother, i'll do one better!!

What about the boys (established relationship) being needy over reader?? Like something she does or says or wears.

ooooooooof good one babes

okay, mature content ahead: viewer discretion is advised

James:

you come down the stairs to the Gryffindor party looking like that

certified simp, there would be no question what was going through his mind when he get's needy like this

glassy eyes just ogling you

following you around like a lost puppy - his friends would joke that you had him on some invisible leash

probably has a hand on you at all times

I see him getting a little whiny: "can we go now?" "the party's almost over, right?" "they won't miss us for a few minutes?"

whatever ends up happening afterwards is rushed and frantic - it's very obvious how absolutely desperate he was for you

Sirius:

you come down the stairs to the Gryffindor party looking like that

I don't think he lets you make a full round of the party before he's pulling you up to his dorm and locking the door

"Siri! I was talking to Emmeline!"

He'd scoff at you as he started shedding his clothes. "You come down stairs looking like that and expect me not to want to jump your bones immediately? Fuck, look at you; who even gave you permission to look this good, huh?"

idk about you but that sentence alone would have me in a puddle

ravishes you - you both look like a right mess afterwards

he takes about 30 seconds to revert back to his dishevelled rockstar appearance (which is so unfair because it took you a little longer to get ready tonight)

he dutifully helps you get redressed - the whole nine yards. Hair, makeup, outfit; though he makes sure some of the marks he's decorated your skin with are visible... "they compliment the ensemble, doll face"

Remus:

you come down the stairs to the Gryffindor party looking like that

he's got a good pokerface, but there'd be signs

he'd be a little quieter during conversations - most of his attention placed on you, one of his hands would be near his mouth as he played with his lips (like a nervous tick, almost like he really wants a cigarette right now)

but this man's M.O.? Get you feeling just as needy as he is

he would ask you to dance - and it'd be sinful: your back pressed up against his front as your hips sways in sync to the beat

his hands would be all over you: running up and down your thighs, slipping under the skirt of your dress, arms wrapping around your middle, gentle kisses pressed to your ears and neck

he'd have you so wound up and when you finally turn in his lap to ask him if he wanted to go upstairs, he'd smile at you and say "great idea, dove. I don't think they'll miss us for a little while."

get's exactly what he wanted and somehow it had been your idea

Regulus:

you come down the stairs to the Slytherin party looking like that

I think it would piss him off a little bit, quite frankly - how dare you come down stairs looking that good and acting like you weren't knocking the wind out of Regulus? (and likely every other partygoer there)

I think because he's feeling slightly jealous/a little peeved at you, he'd keep his distance at the party; but you would feel his eyes on you all night

his predatory gaze watching you as you navigate the party, sending threatening glares at anyone getting too close or was looking for too long

finally as the party is dying down, you're halfway through a conversation with Dorcas when you feel a looming presence behind you

"We're leaving." He says simply, taking your elbow and ushering you towards the dorm rooms.

you try to scold him for interrupting your conversation and rudely dragging you away from the party

he narrows his eyes and looks you up and down: "you don't get to show up to the party looking like sex on a stick and then berate me for finally getting you alone"

you smirk at him. "if you wanted me alone so bad, all you had to do was ask"

"Well, here I am." "I'm all yours, reg"

Barty:

you come down the stairs to the Slytherin party looking like that

your foot has barely hit the last step before you're hastily thrown over Barty's shoulder and he's running to his dorm room

"But Barty! The party!"

"Fuck the party! There are more important things to do."

you guys never make it back to the party - a shame too, you really liked that dress....the one that was since ripped off of your body and sat in a pile on the floor

"Don't worry treasure, I'll buy you 40 more of those dresses; though I can't promise they won't end up in the same state"

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moncheriemoony · 5 days

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Unwind

James Potter x Reader

Anon: can i request a james x female reader smut where the reader is really stressed from work so james decides to take some stress off by fucking her? pls make it rlly detailed

Masterlist.

After a long and stressful day at work, you were happy to fall into the arms of your boyfriend James. Resting your head on his chest, you thoroughly enjoyed the feeling of his fingers scratching your scalp.

“Love, are you okay?” James asks, holding you even closer.

Sighing, you look up at him, “I’m fine, just had a really bad day at work and I’m so stressed and I just wanna sleep but I know I won’t be able to and-” you were interrupted by James’ hands on your face and his mouth shushing you. “It’s okay darling, let me take care of you,” he said.

Flipping you both over, he held himself up above you, kissing your nose, “let me help you forget all about it.” He kissed you, your mouth, your neck, lifted your shirt to kiss down your chest. “You’re so pretty, love, so beautiful,” he said, kissing your stomach, tickling you and making you giggle. Making his way back up, he pushed your shirt even further up your body, until he gestured for you to sit up so he could pull it off of you. He pushed you back down onto the couch, leaning down and kissing you again, tongue slipping into your mouth, teasing yours.

You decided you’d had enough of his slow teasing, so you reached a hand down, rubbing at the bulge in his pants. “Take ‘em off,” you groaned, pulling at the fabric of his pants. Chuckling, he did as told, even pulled his shirt off too. He was truly beautiful, his sculpted upper body broad enough to cover all of yours, but he leaned back, resting his body against the other side of the couch. “Come on then, love, not gonna wait for you all evening,” he was rubbing himself through the fabric of his underpants, which were stained where his tip pushed against them.

Getting up on your knees, you slipped out of your pants before sitting yourself in his lap, thighs straddling his, arms resting on his toned shoulders. His hips bucked, coming up to meet yours, causing him to throw his head back, groaning in pleasure. “Fuck, babe, missed you,” his hands squeezed your hips, holding you close, allowing his cock to push against your cunt, through the two layers of fabric. You hid your face in the crook of his neck, kissing, nibbling and trying to quiet your moans – a feat which only got harder as his hand reached down to rub your clit. It wasn’t long before you felt ready to take him, and you told him as much.

Pulling himself free from the confines of his boxers, the head of his cock bobbed against his stomach, leaving a little pool of precum. Not wanting to waste any more time, he pushed your underwear to the side, immediately making your hole accessible to him. He hissed as he pushed into you – but you weren’t sure if it was because of the tightness of your cunt, or the fact that you bit down hard on his shoulder.

You leaned back, getting ready to bounce on him, but he stopped you. “No babe, I’m taking care of you, just rest your pretty little head, I’ll fuck you real good,” he hushed, holding you by the back of your head, pushing you back into his neck before planting his feet firmly on the couch and pushing up into you. You whimpered pathetically as he entered you, filling you up all the way, making you stretch around him. “Fuck,” he groaned, feeling your warm, wet, tight hole enveloping him, squeezing his cock in the most delicous way.

He started slow, careful, pushing into you softly and sweetly, kissing the top of your head. Though it didn’t take him many minutes to get restless, snapping his hips against yours, cock sliding in and out at an almost painful pace. Eyes rolled back, your brain turned into mush as he kept going, not once slowing down. “You’re so tight, babe, love you so much, god, you feel so good,” he praised, the words slipping from his mouth.

And it did feel good, the head of his cock gracing your g-spot with every thrust of his hips, making you fall closer to your orgasm. Knowing what you needed, James shoved his hand between your legs, rubbing tight little circles on your clit, not stopping until your walls clamped down, spasming along with the rest of your body as you uncontrollably fell into your orgasm, coming all around him.

When your body relaxed again, falling limply against him, he once again heightened his pace, going faster, pushing in and out of you, trying to reach his own happy ending. Your cunt felt heavily overstimulated, almost sending you over the edge again. The sensation made you cry out before you bit down on his shoulder – the piercing pain sending him into his own orgasm, hips halting while his cock spasmed inside you, painting your insides white and sticky, placing his seed where he knew you wanted it.

It took him several minutes before he could move, slipping out of you and placing you next to him on the couch. “There you go, love, all relaxed now,” he said, chuckling at your sleepy eyes and hazy face. He really was the best way to unwind.

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moncheriemoony · 6 days

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A Night To Remember

Gilbert Blythe x Reader

➸ summary: as the daughter of a renowned lawyer in Avonlea, you are invited to this season's debutante ball. little do you know, you're about to meet the man who will steal your heart

➸ warnings/notes: probably some historical inaccuracy, stereotypes of the role of men and women (it’s the 19th century, c’mon), strays from canon, all characters are over the age of 18

A/N: can you tell i've been watching bridgerton?

word count: 1.9k

————————

YOU WERE NEVER one for rumors. Ever since you left school and were given the opportunity to study at a university you had decided to stay far away from that type of lifestyle. You saw how gossip ruined many girls and destroyed several friendships - and you refused to fall into that trap.

Not to mention the fact that your family was well respected by the ton, and their youngest eligible daughter parading around with false stories would not bode well.

So, when whispers of a supposed ‘debutante ball’ were circling around the girl's dormitories, you paid them no mind. Certain families had a guarantee to be invited to one of these events, while others had to work their own way in. If there was to be a ball you would've already known by now.

Arriving back to your chambers, you were happy to see that your roommate was still in her classes. She was a nice girl, but too chatty for your liking.

You were so occupied by your thoughts that you almost missed the pristine envelope that sat at the foot of your bed, the purple wax shining in the sunlight. It was your father's emblem. Either somebody died or you were about to get some amazing news. Grabbing your letter opener, you sat on the soft sheets as you analyzed the contents of the page. It read:

To my dearest,

As you may now know, this season's Debutante Ball is to be set in the Halloway Estate come dawn tomorrow night. Your father and I decided it best to wait as we know you wish to complete your studies, but as the time is nearing quite quickly we had no other choice but to exempt you from classes for the time being. The carriage will await you at noon.

With warmest regards, your loving mama.

Groaning, you crumpled the paper in your hands and threw it onto your pillow. You were never interested in the social aspect of high society. Important dinners, town fairs, and theatre visits were a common occurrence in your childhood. All of which greatly impeded your learning, and you hated it.

Ultimately you knew you had no choice. Deciding to make the best of it, you began to collect your things. There was never a point in arguing with your parents, especially since they had already sent someone to come get you.

You just hoped the ball would pass quickly.

YOUR PREVIOUS WISHFUL thinking unfortunately did not work out. After being pampered for what felt like hours, and revised on proper etiquette and rules, you already wanted to go back home.

The frilly dress you wore was beautiful, but uncomfortable. Your maids made sure no lace was loose and that all the fine whale bone in your corset was tucked perfectly against your torso. It was a physical embodiment of your imprisonment in this little social charade your parents wanted you to play.

Introductions went by as quickly as they came, and your parents accompanied you side by side as you trailed down the grand staircase.

While every other girl was back on campus studying for exams, you were here frollocking about. How would dancing and mingling help your education? You pushed back a sigh and twisted the edge of the ring on your finger. It was a purity ring that was handed down to you by your mother, something she had held in her family for generations.

“Now, now, dearest,” said your mama as she interlinked her arm with yours. “No need to fret. You remember your dancing lessons?”

You simply nodded. With your curls bouncing around and your perfect dress feathering across the floor you felt like a porcelain doll. It was like you had been dressed up solely for the purpose of being looked at. Which, in fairness, was quite the case.

Throughout the night various men came to ask for permission to dance. Some were accepted, and some declined, much to your pleasure.

Eventually your father ventured off somewhere to talk business and your mother was caught up in conversation with an old friend. It was the perfect opportunity to sneak out for some fresh air. Picking up the hem of your dress you jogged as quick as your heeled sandals would let you.

Cold air hit your face as you were met with the evening sky. You leaned against the marble rail of the balcony, reveling in how nice the breeze felt. It was getting much too stuffy inside. You finally let out the sigh you had been holding in all night.

“The stars are beautiful tonight don’t you think?” said a voice.

Slightly jumping, you turned around to see who it was. There in the pale moonlight stood the most handsome man you had ever seen. Many gentlemen greeted you tonight, but this one had something different about him. Perhaps it was the gentle way he carried himself, his hands tucked behind his back politely - or maybe it was his brown orbs that seemed to pull you in with every second that passed.

“My apologies. I wasn’t aware that anyone was here,” you replied, moving away from the balcony to return inside.

As much as you would’ve wanted to continue the conversation with the attractive man, an unchaperoned lady at night was a guaranteed scandal.

“No need. I was only here for a breath of fresh air.”

He looked at the glass door, eyeing the people in the ballroom. “I could leave if you wish,” he offered.

Shaking your head you continued to make your way back to your parents. Yet when you looked back at him, something in you begged you to stay. Maybe it was just the way your heart soared at the sound of his smooth voice.

You moved away from the door.

“What brings you out here?” you asked as you twiddled with your ring again. It was a nervous habit that you had developed while at school and your mother absolutely hated it.

The man, however, noticed and made a mental note of it in his head. He found it rather cute.

“This sort of thing isn’t really my forté,” the man confessed.

A smile found its way onto your face. The first one you’ve had all night. “Well, Mr…” you paused, looking at him.

“Blythe. Gilbert Blythe.”

“Well, Mr. Gilbert Blythe. As it so happens, it isn’t mine either.”

You both floated back to the edge of the terrace. It overlooked a huge garden that spanned a few acres. While it was gorgeous, it all felt too grand. A small patch of grass with some flowers was infinitely more charming than this overgrown imitation of a forest.

“And what is your forté, Miss -“

“Y/N,” you replied quickly.

Gilbert repeated the name, as if he was getting a feel for it on his tongue. It was quite the lovely name.

The black suit he wore fit him perfectly. His straight-set shoulders were donned with a fine material, his tie sitting delicately against his chest. Whoever he was, he definitely had money. Even the way he styled his hair seemed so prim and proper.

“I’m more of an academic,” you admitted. Most men didn’t like hearing of their bachelorette’s life goals. Many actually preferred that they stayed out of school.

Gilbert hummed, his gaze settling up at the heavens. “We have quite a lot in common then, Miss Y/N.”

You would’ve expected the interaction to be awkward. Instead, you found yourself enjoying the comfortable silence that fell between the two of you. Soon you would have to return to the ball. For now you decided to make the most of it before you had to vacate.

“And what is it that you do, Mr. Blythe?”

Gilbert smiled, his eyes squinting. How he wasn’t already spoken for, you had no idea. “Please, just Gilbert. Mr. Blythe ages me.”

“I’m a doctor,” he finished after a moment.

A doctor. Usually medical practitioners were old and reserved. Well, at least the ones you had been to. You never thought they could be so… easy on the eyes.

You hummed in response. “Are you in university, just Gilbert?”

Another smile. Dimples graced his cheeks perfectly and if you didn’t know any better you would’ve reached over to smooth them out. “I am. And you?”

The wind picked up slightly, ruffling your hair. “I am. I’m studying law - I hope to take over my father’s business one day.”

You knew you were sharing too much. It was just too easy with Gilbert, he had a certain relaxing aura about him. Your parents would love him too. The thought made you giddy.

With his eyebrows raised, he turned to you. “A lawyer, huh?”

Nodding, you let your eyes meet his. In the quiet of the night, you realized that brown was quickly becoming your favorite color. Brown like his eyes, or like the chocolate locks that sat so prettily atop his head.

“You must be a very smart woman to get into law school.”

“And you must be a very smart man to get into medical school,” you mocked back. He merely shook his head in response, letting his lips form into yet another breathtaking grin.

“I'm compelled to ask. Why are you outside and not in there dancing? Any gentleman would be lucky to have such a graceful, intelligent woman on his arm.”

The comment made you blush and you turned your head away from him. After this brief interaction you realized that the only man you wished to dance with tonight was Gilbert. Nobody else could stand a chance anymore - not that they ever did.

In a rush of confidence you replied. “Perhaps I don’t have the right men asking me.”

With a grin on his face, Gilbert held out his palm. His hands looked so inviting. You wondered how they would feel against your own, smaller hands.

“Well then, may I have this dance?”

Placing your fingers against his, you let the warmth spread across your body. He felt more perfect than you could’ve imagined. You let him lead you back to the ballroom, the shiny ground causing your shoes to clack against it. This was perhaps the first and only dance that you would actually enjoy at this event.

Gilbert’s hands felt light and pleasant on your waist. And there was something so tender about the way he spun you around.

He was like no other man you had ever danced with.

His feet were perfectly in sync with yours as he lead you across the floor. Warm eyes were concentrated on your face, never once leaving your penetrating stare. It felt more intimate than anything you had experienced to date. Your hands cupped his own as he sped the dance up, his twirls and dips causing butterflies to erupt in your stomach.

That night you felt like a princess in his arms.

When the music died down, he hesitantly dropped the grip on your waist. Lifting up your ringed hand to his lips, he placed a feather-like kiss onto it, honey colored orbs fixated on you.

“I hope we can do this again, Miss Y/N.”

Your skin buzzed in the absence of his touch, and you felt the area where he had left his mark. A kiss so gentle that you would dream about it for many nights to come.

You only hoped your father was in contact with somebody who knew Gilbert Blythe - because after tonight, you weren’t so sure you could see any man the same ever again.

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moncheriemoony · 7 days

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Curious what if we switch the roles 👀

Cowboy Rooster and Pilot Reader,

Also hope you have a good day:)

-🐎

So I haven't made the reader a pilot, but I hope you still like it love

Alsooooo I started writing a whole ass cowboy Bob fic and it's all I can think about

Bradley had been riding up to his father's fishing cabin since he was a boy. His mom took him up there every summer when he was growing up.

The walls were littered with pictures of his parents, of his dad and his best friend on their fishing trips. Growing up Bradley's mom used to tell him stories about his father, about what happened on those fishing trips he took with Mav.

When his mother died, Bradley stopped riding up to the cabin. He had no reason to now she was gone,nobody special to take up there.

But then he met her. He caught her eye from across the bar, she claimed that it was his moustache and ancient cowboy hat that made him stand out. Rooster took her home that night.

And then the next night.

And then the next morning she was riding on the back of Texas, her arms wrapped around his waist as he took her around the property. It was almost like she hadn't left since.

Bradley took her to the fishing cabin. He didn't ride up like he did when he was a kid, instead taking her in his truck. His hand was on her thigh for the entire drive.

When Bradley got to the cabin, he couldn't help but apologise for how dusty everything was. But she didn’t care as she pulled him onto the bed, pulled him on top of her abd wrapped her legs around him.

Bradley took his hat off and cradled her head, deepening the kiss. It would have been a miracle if the ancient bed made it through the night.

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moncheriemoony · 7 days

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paper planes.

๑.pairings: draco x fem!reader

๑.genre: fourth year, fluff, crack, no voldy au + sfw!!

๑.synopsis: an unknown paper planes has been flying towards you, what could be the best thing could happen?

๑.wc: 3.9k

๑.warnings: typos, grammatical errors, simp!draco

๑.house + status: gryffindor, half-blood

๑.links: navigation | hp.masterlist | taglist form (general)

— lets pretend that draco changed his hairstyle at fourth year instead of third year ;)) + im still having problem with the developement of relationships here BAHAHAHAHAH

— A paper plane landed on your desk. Your chin was resting on your hand as you witnessed your classmates doing their own things, playing with the papers as they used their spells, levitating them in the air. Your mind clearly said the spell as soon as you saw the magic, wingardium leviosa.

You raised an eyebrow, you looked anywhere to see who sent it, but sadly you have no idea. You opened the paper to see a drawing of a girl with a bored expression. Soon, you realized that it was you on the drawing. You didn’t get a chance to ask your seatmate, but eventually professor Snape arrived in the classroom. You groaned internally and placed the paper on one of the pages of your book and the class started.

The next day, at lunch, everyone was busy eating, chatting with each other. You decided to sit down with your fellow trouble magnet friends, Ron, Hermione, and Harry. A paper airplane landed on the table where you were eating. Ron was the first to pick up the paper airplane, “clearly I’m eating here and this rubbish decided to land on it,” he complained with his mouth full of food. He opened the paper to see a poorly drawn picture of his friend before lunch, “Wait hold on, y/n is this you?” he asked. Soon after, Hermione and Harry stopped eating and leaned closer to the paper that Ron was holding.

“Whoever fancies you y/n, needs to be taught on how to draw,” Harry joked.

Keep reading

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moncheriemoony · 8 days

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you went to a party. i heard from everybody. you part the crowd like the red sea don't even get me started didyougetanxious though on the way home? i guess i'll never, ever know now that we don't talk. you grew your hair long you got new icons and from the outside it looks like you're trying lives on. i miss the old ways you didn't have to change. but i guess i don't have a say. now that we don't talk!

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moncheriemoony · 8 days

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i wanna know what gregory said to make them laugh 💀

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moncheriemoony · 8 days

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thats that me espresso!! // theodore nott x fem reader

playlist: espresso - sabrina carpenter

summary : theodore nott hasnt slept in days, and it was for one reason only. (or one person)

fluff , hufflepuff reader , y/n , short

lucky girl syndrome!! (another theo fic)

rubbing his eyes wearily , theodore nott poked at his breakfast , feeling the eyes of concerened friends burning into him.

"what?" he asked blankly finally looking up at his friends.

"theo is something wrong?" lorenzo asked with genuine concern snaking through his face and tone.

"yes something- no someone is wrong!" theodore said angrily as he dropped his fork , "i have not slept well for days!"

"why?" draco asked , not really that bothered by theodores insomnia , just wanting to get the tired vibe out of the friendgroup.

"because..beacause!" he started before pausing each time , finally sighing and saying in a hushed voice ,"her!"

his whisper shout and eyes staring into the distance made the whole friend group follow his eyeline , landing on a hufflepuff girl talking to her friends , y/n.

"stop staring!" he said loudly making the whole group turn back to him , drawing their eyes away from the girl , eventhough theodore himself didnt look away.

"y/n? what has she done?" lorenzo asked , confused why his hufflepuff friend would be causing theodore struggle.

"great , of course youre on a first name basis with her!" theodore seethed in jealousy finally tearing his eyes away from your smiling face , "shes not really....done anything.. God i dont know shes like an espresso , i cant look at her without getting a burst of energy! and i cant stop thinking about her its keeping me up all fucking night!!"

the group watched as theodore ranted , exchanging knowing looks before pansy decided to speak up , "theodore dont get angry with that poor girl , its not her fault you like her!"

"how could i ever get angry with her," theodore muttered and stopped talking , until matteos laugh filled the short silence , "what are you laughing at dickhead!" theodore snapped , assuming matteo was laughing at him.

"oh nothing im just laughing at diggory trying to chat up your girl," matteo smirked watching everyone frantically look back to the hufflepuff girl , only to see that she was still sat and talking with her friends , cedric no where to be seen.

theodore , who had stood up in a panic smacked matteo on the back of the head and angrily snapped at the laughing boy, "shut up man not funny."

"sorry , sorry youre really gulible ," matteo laughed to himself , draco smirking at the two.

"i shoudlve never told you lot ," theodore grumbled himself , going back to poking his food.

"dont be like that theo , just a bit of fun , " blaise smirked as theodore threw him an angry look.

"no but seriously theodore , you cant let yourself be exhausted because of a girl" pansy said.

"shes not just a girl , shes nice and funny and beautiful and!-... im pathetic," theo sighed in frustration and ran a hand through his curls.

"im done with all this sappy , annoying shit , go ask her to hogsmeade or ill do it. and trust me i wont rest until she falls in love with me, " draco warned , attempting at making his friend confess.

"DONT!" theodore shouted at him , immediatly letting embrassment sink in as everyone , including you, turned to look at him, "ill....do it"

lorenzo and pansy spoke words of encouragment as the petrified boy rose from the table , draco , matteo and blaise forgetting the whole ordeal and discussing quidditch instead.

once theodore was far enough from the table pansy turned to enzo , "why is that the most emotion ive ever seen out of him in our whole lifelong friendship?"

"dunno , hufflepuffs are really effective i guess," enzo shrugged before they both skipped to another conversation and started eating again.

----

theodore walked towards your table with a confident stride , stopping behind you and sliding in next to you on the bench , close enough to the point that your bodies were pressed togther. as you jumped in suprise theo gave you a flirty smile and stared you dead in the eye.

"hi theodore , can i help you?" you asked wearily , glancing away from him and at your confused friends for a split second.

"yes, you can ," thedore smirked , "how about hogsmeade , this weekend , you and me?"

you physically paused as your mouth hung open , this was the second time you had ever talked to theodore nott and he was suddenly asking you out??!

"oh um....yeah - yeah sure id love to" you gave him a smile , a little cautious and very much confused.

"great , see you then beautiful ,"he winked, planting a kiss on your cheek before slipping out of the bench and confidently walking back to the slytherin table.

you looked at your friends with deep confusion, before going on to watch theo walk away , whilst your friends yapped about how hot he is.

-----

"so how was it?" pansy asked theodore as he sat down.

he quickly dropped his confident , cool face and let a wide grin bless his features , "perfect!!! she said yes! i walked up and acted real calm and collected ,and she didnt know i was nervous at all!!"

pansy and lorenzo smiled at him as the other boys just ignored him , uninterested. "thats great theo! so are you gonna be able to sleep now?" enzo laughed.

"like a baby." theodore grinned.

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