#ginny x reader

[cleake]

HP Characters Reacting To You Drawing Them

Warning: I didn't read the books, these are my headcanons and personal ideas for the characters. It's just for fun. :)

Harry:

-"Oh! Brilliant! Yeah, sure." -He is a bit shy, but flattered, very flattered -He sits in front of you, with a nervous smile, sometimes adjusting his glasses or hair -You assure him that he looks great and he relaxes a bit, sitting more comfortably -While you work he asks from time to time some questions about your drawing journey and listens closely to your answers -He thinks about how you're going to draw his scar, are you going to make it a key thing, or represent him in another way? -When you finish and show him your work he's astonished by your talent -"Wow! This is really good! I can keep it? Oh! Thanks!"

Ron:

-"You want to draw me? I don't think I'm that special." -He's a bit hesitant at first, he feels like he doesn't deserve attention, since he is not "The Chosen One" -But you make him believe otherwise -When sat down Ron is stiff, looking away from you, smiling nervously -You tell him that he looks great and he smiles a bit more confident -He suggests ideas on how you can present him, and he comes up with some sick propositions -Once you're finished he's so happy that he has something made by someone only for him -"Bloody hell, it's fantastic! You need to show your skill more often."

Hermione:

-"Draw me? Well if it makes you happy." -She pretends that it's nothing, she may look annoyed, but inside she cares -She fixes her hair or clothes when you aren't looking -She sits properly, legs together, hands on her lap, head slightly tilted, and a soft smile on her lips -She is mostly silent but asks you questions about what you are doing at a certain moment, she's curious -She's patient, giving you time to make your art perfect, she knows how hard it can be -She's very supportive when she sees your finished work -"This is lovely!"

Fred:

-"Oh yeah? So my beauty captured you this much?" -He's so happy about it but can help not to tease you -"Are you interested in a more intimate portrait?" -He sits in a confident way, taking a lot of space -He gives you ideas for the drawing, like how he could look good on a broom, or fighting You-Know-Who -After he's done with his jokes he lets you work in silence, just sometimes giggling to himself because of your focused expression -When you sometimes look up at him, he sends you a quick wink -He's very happy when you finish the drawing, he'll show it to his friends -"Thank you, dear, we can repeat this if you want."

George:

-"You got the right twin? Because I am not sharing this position." -He's more mature about this than his twin, but he has it in his nature to make some not-in-place comments -He gives you control, you decide how he sits or holds his hands -He's intrigued by how you work, but stays silent, just looking at you -He hums quietly, gently moving his head, when you tell him to stop moving he winks at you with a smirk, but completes your order -He's moved when he sees your done work, he feels appreciated for him -"Thank you, it's beautiful."

Ginny:

-"That's nice of you." -She doesn't ask a lot of questions, just lets you do your work -She's happy to pose for you, it makes her feel seen -She smiles when you accidentally make a silly face but doesn't point it out -When you're finished she takes a while to admire your work -"It's amazing, thank you."

Luna:

-"I would love to, sitting can be fun too." -She's very calm, listens to your instructions, and is very patient -She asks you how you got to draw, or what inspires you to create, she's nice to have conversations with -She has her glasses on her nose, sitting with her knees to her chest -When you're finished she's very happy -"Oh, it's magnificent. I am so happy to keep it."

Neville:

-"Me? Are you sure?" -He's very self-conscious, and thinks you're doing it out of pity, but you assure him it's not like that -He's very nervous, he doesn't know what to do with his hands, you have to guide him a little bit -He thinks he looks bad at every angle, but you tell him that everything is perfect and that makes him feel a bit more confident -He is so grateful for this art piece, he keeps it close to him at all times -"Wow, that is so pretty, thank you Y/N."

Draco:

-"Why? For what?" -He doesn't feel comfortable with this and is suspicious you have bad intentions -But his pride wins over him and he lets you draw him -He sits proudly with a serious look on his face -He says nothing, just watches you, expecting your work will be not as high as his expectations -But he's shocked when he sees your done work -He keeps it in his room, away from others -"Well that's not as bad as I thought it will be."

Tom:

-"I can agree to that." -He sees this as an opportunity to capture his image for future -He wears his best suit, rings on his fingers, and in his hand a dark book -He sits with his head high, one leg on the other, leaning on the armchair -He doesn't talk but nods his head in approval when you stop drawing for a moment -He's very satisfied with the result and keeps the drawing well hidden -"That is good, thank you for your time."

#harry potter #harry potter x reader #harry potter headcanon #harry potter characters #harry x reader #ron weasly x reader #hermione x reader #hermione granger x reader #fred weasley x reader #fred x reader #george weasley x reader #george x reader #ginny weasley x reader #ginny x reader #luna lovegood x reader #luna x reader #neville longbottom x reader #neville x reader #draco malfoy x reader #draco x reader #tom riddle x reader #tom x reader #harry potter imagine #headcanons #x reader #reader insert #hp characters #hp headcanon

[qtssvnwoo]

Harry Potter Characters Favorite Place to Kiss you!!

Harry: Forehead

It doesn’t matter where he is 

You guys could be in the library or the common room

He’ll kiss your forehead before you fall asleep 

and he’ll kiss your forehead after a quidditch match 

This man is absolutely whipped for you

Hermione: Nose

Hermione would just grab your face and squeeze your cheeks, to then kiss you on the nose 

She would kiss your nose when you studying 

or right before she runs off to class

I can see her dancing with you and then just kissing your nose 

I can also see her kissing your nose as an “I’m so proud of you.” jester 

Ron: Lips 

Ron’s basic yeah, but he loves your lips 

He’ll kiss you at any opportunity, before quidditch, after quidditch 

He’ll kiss you before bed, and when you wake up, etc etc 

He’s also the type to kiss you, then pick you up and spin you around

Will also kiss you to “shut you up.” so I mean 

Draco: Hands

DRACO LOVES KISSING YOUR HANDS PERIOD 

He’ll dance with you and slowly bring your hands up to his lips and just let them linger there 

He’ll discreetly kiss your hand during class, while also holding it 

If you guys are taking a walk, I can see him pulling you in by the waist and kissing your hand lightly 

He’ll kiss your hand before he leaves, like a little goodbye kiss 

Seamus: Cheeks 

Also basic but it’s cute nonetheless 

Seamus loves to squish your cheek, then kiss it 

He’ll quickly kiss your cheek before leaving, and he’ll kiss your cheek when he comes back 

When you’re cuddling he’ll rub your head and kiss your cheek 

Will also kiss your cheek randomly in public to make you flustered 

Neville: Hands

Neville is also a hand guy himself 

He loves to kiss your hand and then hold it 

He’ll greet you by kissing your hand as well 

Absolutely loves kissing all your knuckles and then kissing the palm of your hand 

He’ll also kiss your hand when you’re holding his face like he’ll tilt his head so he can kiss your hand 

Ginny: Lips 

Like her brother, Ginny loves kissing your lips 

She’ll sneak up behind you, spin you around and kiss you 

After every quidditch game she’ll run to you, hug you, then kiss you 

She’ll give you a quick peck before giggling and running away 

At any given moment she’ll pull you in and kiss you 

George: Neck 

George loves kissing your neck 

more because he loves seeing how flustered you get, especially when he does it in front of people 

Instead of being normal and giving you a kiss on the cheek or on the lips as a greeting, he kisses your neck. 

He loves resting his head in the crook of your neck and then kissing it softly 

also loves giving you hickey’s 

Fred: Head 

Considering Fred is literally 6′3, I’m just assuming he’s taller, but he loves bending down and kissing the top of your head

When you’re cuddling he’ll smooth over your hair and press a kiss to your head

If he’s standing behind you, he’ll pull your head back slightly and kiss the top of your head 

loves staring at you, taking in all your beauty, before hugging you and kissing your head

He mainly loves kissing your head cause his being taller makes him feel dominant. 

Luna: Anywhere  

I personally don’t think Luna could decide her favorite spot to kiss you because she loves everything about you 

She loves kissing your hand when you’re walking together

She loves giving you a goodbye kiss on your cheek 

She loves kissing you on the lips when cuddling 

She love’s it all, and she loves everything about you

#harry potter #harry potter x reader #harry potter imagine #ron weasly x reader #hermione x reader #fred x reader #george x reader #neville x reader #luna x reader #ginny x reader #draco x reader #seamus x reader #harry potter headcanon #harry potter fluff

[vante1920pm]

──;; 𝐒𝐔𝐑𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐌 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐀 𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐒 ★☆

★ 𝗮𝘂𝘁𝗵𝗼𝗿𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲: finally got my coffee so i could write again. the only motivation i need 🤧

requests are open ! <3

◎ | harry potter masterlist

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

☆ 𝘀𝘆𝗻𝗼𝗽𝘀𝗶𝘀: stealing a lil pecki peck from your partner

☆ 𝗰𝗵𝗮𝗿𝗮𝗰𝘁𝗲𝗿𝘀: luna, ginny, percy, fleur

☆ 𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴: fluff, ooc, not proofread, gn!reader

☆ 𝗿𝗲𝗾𝘂𝗲𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗱: no

❛  LUNA !   ❜

-ㅤㅤ giggles when she sees it's just you

There's nothing that could bright her day like your presence. Takes your hand in hers and gives you a little pick on the cheek.

❛  GINNY !   ❜

-ㅤㅤ surprised at first but runs after you when you try to escape

You can't outrun her, no matter how hard you try. Ginny has you in her grip in a matter of seconds. Tickles you to the ground and laughs with you, she has no mercy for you tho.

❛  PERCY !   ❜

-ㅤㅤ scolds you because it was in the halls, where everyone could've seen you💀

He was more scared that one of his siblings could run into you, so you have to reassure him that no one saw it. He's a bit nervous and annoyed but suddenly drags you in an empty classroom after he checked for any witnesses...🤭

❛  FLEUR !   ❜

-ㅤㅤ definitely yelps <3

Once she realizes it's just you, she gives you a playful shove. Pulls you back to her and kisses you on your lips.

© 2023, vante1920pm | do not copy or translate any of my works without my permission. likes, comments and reblogs are highly appreciated

#── ›★ zekes harry potter headcanons #── ;; ( luna ) 𓂃≛ #── ;; ( ginny ) 𓂃≛ #── ;; ( percy ) 𓂃≛ #── ;; ( fleur ) 𓂃≛ #harry potter #harry potter x reader #harry potter x you #harry potter headcanon #harry potter headcanons #ginny weasley #luna lovegood #percy weasley #fleur delacour #luna x reader #luna lovegood x reader #ginny x reader #ginny weasley x reader #percy x reader #percy weasley x reader #fleur x reader #fleur delacour x reader #luna lovegood headcanons #ginny weasley headcanons #percy weasley headcanons #fleur delacour headcanons

[simpingcorner]

Ginny and Georgia season 2 is literally just Marcus being Ginny's Jiminy Cricket.

Also Ginny stoned is almost tolerable.

Stan Georgia.

#ginny and marcus #ginny and georgia #ginny x reader #netflix #ginny miller #georgia miller #marcus baker #maxine baker #abby littman

[emrickzhomepalace]

smut headcanons - h.p girls

hermione x reader (separate)

ginny x reader (separate)

luna x reader (separate)

gender neutral reader

any house

all characters are aged up to 18+

warnings: smut, swearing, kinky shit

hermione granger

hermione is defff a good girl - but one that likes to be punished, does that make sense?

like she’ll do everything right but do one thing wrong to be spanked or something else

definitely has a thing for being choked and/or spanked

i can also imagine whoever she’s having sex with they definitely have a rule where she can’t swear

and i imagine her being very vocal and foul-mouthed in bed

she’s definitely there to please yk

she’ll wear lingerie and all that

will probably even yank up her skirt a little when her s/o’s around when she’s in the mood to expose her panties

ginny weasley

ginny is 100% an absolute fucking bratty bitch in bed

whines and moans rlly loudly

she’ll also really likes the idea of doing it in public places to get caught

she’s the kind of person to be so utterly shy and defenseless and then BOOM she’ll be back for round 2 in the most dommy mommy way

ginny is prolly not a lingerie girl, like she’ll wear it, but she doesn’t see the point as she thinks it’d be easiest to take everything off with no interruptions or obstacles

she also tries to conceal all moaning and noises, becuz she likes to tease her partner and make them either earn it or force it out of her

luna lovegood

luna is super shy when it comes to things like this

she’s definitely into it, she’s just a total virgin

she tries to hide her moans like ginny but not to tease, it’s becuz she thinks she’ll sound weird and becuz she’s shy 🥺

loves loves loves lingerie

she’s also very into being a good girl, but she’s not as vocal or bold as hermione is

hermione wants to be punished, but luna wants to obey, all the time

luna actually kinda feels bad when/if she’s punished, but it feels so good to her also

#fanfics #harry potter #luna x reader #hermione x reader #ginny x reader #smut headcanons #hermione granger #luna lovegood #ginny weasley #harry potter smut #hp girls

[skeleton-bees]

Anyone else just not like Ginny? Like at all. Like she gives me a whole ick. She pisses me off. For good reasons that I don’t have time to go into detail about but trust they’re good reasons like just ew Ginny 😒 (I’m talking about Ginny from Ginny and Georgia btw) (I have nothing against the actor that plays her I don’t know anything about the actor I don’t even know her name so I have nothing against her)

#ginny and georgia #ginny miller #netflix #marcus baker x reader #max baker x reader #i hate her #georgia miller #I have nothing against the actor though #maxine baker #marcus baker x y/n #Maxine baker x y/n #Ginny and Georgia x reader #ginny x marcus #ginny x reader

[fanfics4all]

Tell Me What You Want

Request: Yes / No  Smut Prompts 27. “If you want to cum, then you better start begging.” Ginny Weasley X Male Reader Anon

Requests are open, but ONLY if they are Valentine’s Day related.  (You can use prompts from this list or make up your own!) <3 Have a nice day/night

Ginny Weasley x Male!Reader 

Word count: 1250

Warnings: Smut! 

Y/N: Your Name 

Prompt(s): “If you want to cum, then you better start begging.”

PLEASE DO NOT STEAL MY WORK, I WORK HARD ON MY FICS AND IT’S NOT COOL TO STEAL SOMEONE ELSE’S WORK! 

If you want to be on the tag list for anything (My series fics, specific character fics, or just all of them) All you have to do is send me an ask and I will add you! 

Masterlist 

If you enjoy my work, you could also show support by buying me a coffee! 

(Not my photo, credit to whoever made it!)

We were laying close, relaxed with the cool air caressing our dampened skin. She stretched, feeling the bite marks I left on her back, the linen lightly scratching her spanked arse. Tucking a hand under her head, she turned to me. My head was propped on my hand as I smiled down at her. I lent over to toy with her hard nipple, rolling it between my fingers. I punched the nub harder with each twist. She moaned and arched her back. I eased the pressure, causing her to look up at him. 

“I have an idea, love.” I muttered and her brows furrowed. 

“I’m listening.” She said. 

“Instead of me just taking you, why don’t you tell me what you want?” I asked. 

“What? What do you mean?” She asked. 

“Tell me what you want.” I answered, still playing with her breast. She squirmed slightly under my touch. 

“I want you. Your pleasure, that’s all I ever want, you know that.” She said. I squeezed her breast slightly. 

“What I want right now is for you to tell me what you want.” I said. 

She looked into my eyes, captivated by them. I felt her heart thundering, in her chest. She arched her back, nudging more of her breast between my fingers as her hand moved lower between their bodies. I lessened my tweaking, I knew the light touch would driver her mad. Catching her wandering hand, I pinned it beside her head and she pouted. 

“Tell me what you want, baby.” I soothed. She licked her dry lips and took a deep breath. 

“Fine…” She muttered. 

“I want you to kiss me.” She said and I placed a tiny, chaste kiss on the corner of her mouth. 

“Like that?” I asked with a small smirk. She shook her head. 

“On my lips.” She said. I lightly pressed my mouth to her, warm and moist ones. She slightly opened her lips, begging for my tongue. I didn’t give her it and she groaned in frustration. 

“You’re going to have o tell me what you want.” I told her with a hint of amusement. She closed her eyes, the color rising to her cheeks. She took a deep breath and stared deep into my eyes. I had nothing but patience, I could do this all night. 

“I want you to kiss me deep, with your tongue playing with mine, teasing me.” She said and I smiled, leaning down inches away from her face. 

“Now that wasn’t so hard, was it?” I asked with a smirk. 

Before she could reply, I reclaimed her mouth. My kiss teased her, lips moving over hers. Our tongues danced and caressed each other. She moved into me, deepening the kiss, her hands finding their way into my hair. Her nails scratched my scalp and I groaned slightly. She moaned deep in her throat. We spent a long moment exploring each other’s mouths. 

“I want you to suck and tug my nipples.” She whispered after she reluctantly pulled away from me. 

I slowly made my way to her breast, taking her nipples into my mouth. I sucked on the hard nub, my tongue swirling and flicking over the hardened flesh. My fingers tweaked her other, making it harden. She gripped my hair, holding me to her tits as she began to tremble in anticipation. 

“I want you to bite me.” She requested. I sunk my teeth into her nipple, the sharp sensation causing her to cry out and buck from the bed. 

“I want you to kiss me…lower.” She said. I moved to kneel between her legs, I looked at her stretched body before me. I softly kiss her pelvis with a smirk. 

“Right there?” I asked. 

“No.” She whined. 

“Then where?” I asked, sitting back onto my heels. She looked deep into my eyes and my smirk grew. 

“Tell me.” I said. 

“My pussy.” She whispered. I pushed my hands under her arse, raising her slightly as I lowered my lips for an intimate kiss. She moaned as my mouth moved over her delicious pussy. 

“Lick me!” She pleaded. My tongue pushed deep into her. Her clit was hard as I twirled the nub into my mouth. Her hips grinded into me, pressing deep into me. She grasped the headboard as she raised herself to better meet my warm lips. 

“I-I want…” She groaned as I attacked her throbbing clit, leaving her gasping for air. I looked up, a small smile playing on my lips. 

“What do you want, love? Tell me.” I asked. 

“Oh fuck!” She moaned. 

“I want…fuck.” She swore again as another rush took hold of her. 

“I-I want you to finger my arse.” She said after she swallowed. 

I slowly slid my finger into her arse, the wetness from her pussy coating my digit. Still looking at her, I dropped my mouth as my tongue rimmed her arse. She squealed and I felt her muscles part as my finger invaded her, slowly thrusting it’s length. 

“Yes!” She exhaled. 

“Suck my clit…please!” She begged. My lips rolled over her button, holding it between my teeth. I applied a gentle pressure. I lightly slapped the nub with my tongue, covering it with wide warm licks as my finger stroked in time. She writhed on the bed, her nipples hard as she began to grind against my mouth and finger. She shuddered and quivered. She tugged at my hair, raising my head. 

“I want you to fuck me. Please. I need you to fuck me. Fuck me! Make me your slut again and again… Please! Oh Mirlin, please fuck me.” She begged. I climbed up her body and settled between her waiting thighs. I slowly slid into her, her walls gripping my shaft. 

“I want you to kiss me… I want you to take me.” She sighed. I lowered my head, offering her my lips. She greedily took them, tasting herself. My tongue licked her lips, teasing her. She moaned, her hips moving against mine. Her fingers dug deep into my back, her legs wrapped around my hips. The air was think with the sent of sex, echoing sounds of slapping skin, and our cries of pleasure. My steady hard strokes drove her closer to the edge and I could feel it. 

“I want to cum.” She moaned. I smirked down at her and went faster. 

“If you want to cum, then you better start begging.” I said and she groaned. 

“Please! Please let me cum! Please!” She begged. I felt her tighten around me, her nails scratching my back. Her moans became louder. 

“You can do better than that, love.” I said. 

“Please Y/N! Please I need to cum, please! I-I need it so bad please! Please let you’re slut cum!” She begged and I groaned. 

“Cum for me, my little slut.” I growled. With those words and arched her back and shouted my name. I thrusted into her harder, jerking wildly. I grounded loudly as I released into her. Her legs squeezed, her walls convulsing as she milked me. I collapsed onto her, panting in her ear as she buried her face into my shoulder. 

After a long moment, I rolled onto my back, taking her with me. She propped herself on her elbows, glazing down at me and lightly kissed me. I smiled up at her and gently rubbed her back. 

“I love you.” She said quietly. 

“I love you too.” I whispered and she captured my lips with hers.

Tag list: @les-bio-lie​ @tashy-bear​ @ashwarren32​ @hollie-blogs-blog1​ @schisbro87​ @lover-of-books-and-teas @nerdygaloresposts​ @teenwolfbitches28​ @genius2050​ @drw0301bieber​ @lady-of-lies​ @ravenmoore14​ @ravenempress101​ @cillianchamp​ @rowanthomasknapp​ @rachelxwayne​ @ready-4-fanfiction @in-slytherin-we-trust​ @accio-rogers​ @sambucky8 @bruisedfists-and-splitlips @answer-the-sirens​ @andreasworlsboring101​ @vanessa-kom-skaikru​ @impulse-anchor​ @psamathegoesrawr @nighttimemoonlover​ @therealchoni 

#Harry Potter #harry potter imagine #harry potter smut #Ginny Weasley #ginny smut #ginny weasley smut #ginny x reader #ginny weasley x reader #ginny x male!reader #ginny weasley x male!reader #fanfic #request #Smut #valentine's day #valentine's day prompts

[beansnsoup]

Hi could you do a Ginny Weasly and female reader fic where they've been friends for a long time and finally confess to each other? Thanks!

Yes lovely!!

☆

Starry Night

Ginny Weasley x fem!reader

Summary- You felt like you've known her since forever, never missing one birthday. Maybe she was more than just a friend.

Warnings- fluff, cheesy romance, house neutral, and idk what else

"Psst!"

You slowly opened your eyes and rolled to look at where the sound came from. No surprise when you find your best friend, Ginny, standing above you.

"Did someone die?" You ask her, rubbing your eyes.

"Pfft, no, but come outside, there are shooting stars."

She grabs your hand to pull you up. You groan out of frustration but follow her anyway. You both try your best to avoid the creaky floors, but it's nearly impossible, but pretty much everyone in the house is a heavy sleeper, so you're both safe.

She grabbed a blanket her mom made before heading out, which she sprawled out onto the grass for you two to lay on. You lay back next to her and look up to the stars, you've never seen this many shooting stars.

"Wow."

"I know right?"

You turn to her, admiring her for a bit,

"What were you doing up anyways?"

"Couldn't sleep, I was thinking about too much."

You want to ask Penny for your thoughts, but you knew she'd ask what you've been thinking about recently, and it's mainly been her. You did not want to cover that at the moment.

You sigh and look back at the sky, you wanted to tell her about these feelings so bad.

"Do you have an interest for anyone?" She blurts out,

You raise your eyebrows at her question, you feel her eyes on you, so you just shrug. You've always told her you never liked anyone for long, so you hoped she'd just brush it off, but she didn't.

"Do you have an interest in dating in general?"

"I guess, why is this peaking your interest all of the sudden?"

"No reason, I guess since we're moving up we should find a mate."

She let out the last word in a joking tone which made you both giggle, "My parents would want me to focus on my studies."

You were trying to get this conversation to end as quickly as possible because you knew it would end in you looking like a complete idiot because you made a move.

She laughed at your comment but stopped,

"Y/N.."

"Yeah?"

"I think I love you."

"I love you too."

"No, not like that, I love you in a 'I wanna kiss you' way."

"Oh."

That was all you could muster out, she probably thought you were disgusted by her.

"You don't have to say anything-"

"No, Ginny, I love you too, in a 'I want to kiss you' way."

"Really? You're not just saying that?" She sat up from her position. You did the the same.

"This is the most serious I have ever been."

You both collide your lips without even thinking, continuing this for a minute or two. You pull away to catch your breath, you both burst out laughing.

She pulls you in for a hug before you both collapse back onto the blanket, still holding each other.

"You're amazing."

YALL I FINALLY FINISHED A REQUEST LMAOOOO

#harry potter #ginny weasley #ginny x reader #ginny weasley x reader #ginny weasley x fem!reader #the weasleys #x fem!reader

[fandomnerd9602]

How about where reader is somehow related to Voldemort and is dating Hermione or Ginny (or both) and is being judged by Harry and Ron?

Hermione: Harry it doesn’t matter that he’s the son of He Who Must Not Be Named. He’s a good student and boyfriend.

Ginny: and Mum will love him. He cooks!

Harry: I’m still on the fence

Ron: yeah. Why does he get to date you and Ginny?

Y/N: because they’re both amazing.

Sirius: Harry! I see you’ve met Y/N. I’ve legally adopting him and you too.

Harry tears up and hugs Y/N tightly

Harry: welcome to the family

#harry potter #Hermione x reader x Ginny #ginny weasley #hermione granger #ginny x reader #hermione granger x reader #ginny weasley x reader #hermione granger imagine #hermione x reader #wizard reader #wizarding world

[witchofhimring]

Slytherin Party

So I saw a lot of Hogwarts part playlists. I thought it would be fun to do a short fic on this idea. This is the first part with a part in the Slytherin common room. It will do three more with the other houses.

Warnings: None

This was not a good idea. That was what you told Fred and George Weasley when they told you of their plot to sneak into Slytherin. Of course the idea of going to a masked part sounded fun and all, but you wished to live to a ripe old age. And getting torn apart by a bunch of angry Slytherins was not part of the picture. Gryffindor was not on the best terms with Slytherin (though the rest could be said for the other houses).

You knew the Weasley family well. They lived just up the road from your place. Even though three years separated you, the Weasley twins were your closest friends. Still, just because you helped pull off their pranks didn’t mean you were willing to put your life in danger. Of course it was a masked party, but still.

There’ll be other people there. George dismissed. This was true a few people from other houses would be there but only because they were friends with the Slytherins.

Well if you want to die, so be it, you lunatics. You were about to leave when someone came up behind you.

Is there going to be a party? All of you turned to look at Ginny, the youngest Weasley.

Oh,hey. You responded sheepishly, like one caught in wrongdoing. You didn’t know Ginny as well as you knew her brothers, but she was always nice to you. She looked suspiciously at all three of you.

Nothing Ginny. Fred said in what was supposed to be a relaxed, uncaring attitude. She didn't buy it. Fourteen years of living with the twins had taught her lots about them, including when they were lying. Anxiously, you looked between the twins and Ginny.

Anyway…...I better go. You got up to leave but Ginny stopped you.

What party? She insisted. Fred and George exchanged looks.

Alright alright. We were just planning on…..well…..sneaking into the Slytherin common room. Ginny’s eyes lit up.

And why would you do that? She questioned.

Because their brains sustained an injury. You grumbled. Choosing to ignore your comment, Fred decided to tell the truth.

The Slytherins are throwing a party and we planned on sneaking in. Happy? He sighed.

I didn’t plan anything! You argued.

Can I come?

What? George gaped at Ginny. Surely his little sister would never dream of doing something so risky.

No can do. You're too young. George said. Ginny gave him a look that made all three of you look away.

Y/n is only a year older than me. She argued.

Exactly. A years worth more experience in rule breaking. The art of……..

But Fred was cut off.

Oh don’t be stupid. She rolled her brown eyes.

The answers still no. George replied.

Fine. I just have to write a letter to Mum anyway. She said coolly. The twins looked at each other in panic.

Okay fine. You can come. Fred conceded.

Great. I better go then. You stood up but Ginny stopped you.

I can’t just go with my brothers. Plus girls should always go to parties in groups.

Two hours later you and the Weaslys were creeping down the halls to the dungeons. You only relented because Ginny practically dragged you along. A blue mask covered your face. You had chosen to just wear a blue shirt and a black skirt with kitten heels.

Do you guys even know the password? You asked.

Of course. Serpent. The doors swung open on Fred’s word and music blasted out. The Slytherin common room had green tinted lights flashing from the ceiling.

That's impressive charm work. Ginny said. You slipped in, unnoticed. The next hour was a hectic round of dancing and screaming at the top of your lungs. At some point the Weasley twins left.

Where do you think they are going? Ginny followed them with her gaze.

No idea. You shrugged. Suddenly the Weird Sisters blasted on the radio all thought was lost. Eventually you had to sit down because your feet hurt like hell. There was a table in the corner that was empty, save a Slytherin passed out on the couch. Groaning in satisfaction you started to relax. This was fun. The Slytherin on the couch started to snore loudly. Suddenly someone ran into your view. A flash of platinum blonde hair wirled in front of you. A boy you vaguely recognized slumped beside you. He smelt of alcohol and was disheveled in appearance, as well as crying.

Are you okay? You asked. He looked at you with bloodshot eyes. You wish you had never spoken because he flung himself on you and started bawling.

I hate ferrets! He wailed. Suddenly you realize who this was. Malfoy.

Ummm. You were not sure what to say.

You’ve seen them before. The bloody bastards! Malfoy wept. You weren’t sure what to do. You wanted to leave but Malfoy had a death grip on you. So there you were, stuck with a drunk and sobbing Malfoy.

You know I had a dream once that I was a ferret, and then Potter and Weasley started hitting me with broom sticks and calling me a bother!

C’mon. Fred, George, Ginny. You desperately thought. Malfoy dozed off on your shoulder. At least he had stopped mumbling about ferrets.

Y/n? What are you doing? You sighed in relief when Ginny walked up to you.

Oh thank Gryffindor Ginny. Help me. Ginny looked like she would burst into laughter. None too gently she pushed Malfoy off of you. Bad mistake. Malfoy suddenly jerked upright and vomited all over the ground.

Beh! You and Ginny backed up to avoid the spray.

Hurry. Malfoy’s friends are coming. You and Ginny tore off in the opposite direction.

Gross. Malfoy’s puke is on my shoes. You groaned.

Well we’d better get going anyway. It’s one in the morning.

Wait. You looked around. Have you seen Fred and George?

No. I haven’t. Ginny looked around.

I’m here. You jumped slightly.

Hey George. You whispered.

We better leave, trust me. Fred waved to you guys from the doors.

Where were you two? Ginny asked.

You’ll see. Just hurry. You guys hurried outside and down the hall. A few seconds later you realized why. Shrieks emanated from the common room and the smell of dung reached your nose.

Run! You sprinted all the way to Gryffindor tower.

I can’t believe you guys did that! You laughed. After settling into chairs by the fire, you guys fell into a comfortable silence. Feeling tired, your eyes started to shut. And with a yawn you feel into a comfortable sleep.

#harry potter #ginny x reader #draco x reader #fred weasly x reader #george weasley x reader #Gryffindor

[slytherins-heir]

Please tell me you're gonna write sassy Harry and boss bitch Ginny? The movies really diluted their personalities :////

No stress of that here! Don't worry, Ginny is definetly gonna be book Ginny rather than movie Ginny~ Same with Harry!

#harry potter x reader #harry potter au #harry potter fics #hp fanfic #draco x reader #cedric x reader #hermione x reader #ginny x reader #ron x reader #hp ship fics #marauders fics #marauders fanfictions

[homesweetnothings]

Pairing: Ginny Weasley x fem!reader

Summary: in which you spend a romantic morning with Ginny amongst the changing colours of the leaves

————————————

"Ginny, wake up!" you jumped onto the bed, startling her as she fell, hitting the floor with a thump. The curtains were drawn, the early beginnings of the sunrise filtering in through the blinds, a mess of clothes strewn across the floor.

"Y/n," Ginny rubbed the back of her head as she yawned. "It's 6 am, why did you wake me up."

"Is that any way to say good morning to your lover?" you pouted, crawling across the bed to lean down and kiss Ginny.

"Are you serious? You just scared the shit out of me," she was annoyed at first but softened at the sight of your puppy eyes. She giggled before pushing you back onto the bed and crawling over you; peppering you with kisses she gave you a proper good morning.

You couldn't help but writhe in pleasure at the sensation of her soft lips on your neck.

"Ginny, as much as I enjoy you like this I have a surprise for you that's time-sensitive," Ginny tilted her head in amused confusion, but you refused to give her answers, giving her one more kiss before sliding out from under her, "Get dressed, we leave in 10 minutes."

Ginny groaned, reluctantly getting out of bed and slipping on the sweater her mom made last Christmas.

"Bring a hat too, it'll be chilly," you said before going to the kitchen to prepare some snacks for your trip. Making sure everything was secured, you closed the picnic basket and waited for Ginny outside.

"Y/n, this surprise better be worth it because I've never woken up this early for anyone before," Ginny side-eyed you as she zipped up her coat.

"Trust me you won't regret it," linking her arm with yours you led her down the path from the cottage the two of you shared.

You'd moved in together 3 years ago, a little while after you graduated from Hogwarts. Ginny travelled a lot with the Holyhead Harpies, so you were alone most of the time, but Ginny made up for it in the time she was able to spend with you.

She took you on romantic dates and made sure to shower you with love, which you appreciated, but it did get a little lonely in her absence. The house wasn't the same without her contagious laugh ringing through it. Ginny tried convincing you to travel with her but you had your own job so long distance would have to make do.

It was still somewhat dark out- the street lamps were still on, but they barely provided any light. By the time you made it to the entrance of the hiking trail, the sun was only just beginning to peek over the horizon.

"We're going hiking?" Ginny asked sceptically because you weren't usually the type of person to hike on their own accord.

"Yes, we are," you said splendidly. You used your wands to light the path on the trail. Leaves crunched under your feet and the birds were singing their morning songs. You rested your head on Ginny's shoulder as you walked through the woods.

As the sun rose and you neared your final destination, you put away your wand and started an uphill trek.

"Y/n, it's so beautiful here."

Ginny was in awe of the changing colours of the leaves, especially under the mellow sunlight, which only made them more beautiful.

You watched in adoration as Ginny took in the scenery, a sight you wanted to see for the rest of your life. "Come on, let's watch the sunrise together, darling."

You spread out the blanket you'd brought and laid out the breakfast platter: an array of croissants, fruit, and waffles.

"You did all of this for me?" Ginny felt bad for bitching about waking up earlier, and you knew it from the way she looked at you.

"Hey, don't feel bad," you cupped her face in your hands and she melted in the warmth of your touch, "I was a bit extra in how I went about everything," you both chuckled at the memory of Ginny falling off the bed.

"Let's just enjoy this moment together. I've missed you so much," you kissed her on the cheek.

The sky was an exquisite mix of orange and pink. The sound of the stream that was not too far away was almost hypnotic and washed away all possible worries in your mind. But the same couldn't be said for Ginny.

When she looked down at you, she saw the person she wanted to spend the rest of her life with. It was always you for Ginny. From when you were still just friends to when the two of you finally got together at Bill and Fleur's wedding. She adored everything about you, but she couldn't shake the guilt of leaving you alone all the time for quidditch.

You now felt the warmth of the sun which you welcomed against the chilly fall breeze. You snuggled closer to Ginny, but she sat up and looked at you with sombre eyes. The calming sounds of the stream were deafened by the overwhelming panic that ran through your veins.

"Ginny, what's wrong?"

"Nothing, it's nothing. I'm just thinking of how we used to be when we were younger, you know? When things were simpler and we ran we'd run around the castle grounds trying to avoid the twin's pranks," Ginny sighed, caressing your hand.

"Remember the time we snuck out of the castle, and you took my flying? The night sky was beautiful," you reminisced. Ginny spent all of dinner trying to convince you to come with you, and in the end, you didn't know why you resisted in the first place.

As Ginny flew the broom, you pointed out all of the constellations your mother once showed you. Being that high in the sky was enthralling, you wished you could sneak out every night so that you could touch the stars.

"I'm sure it was, but I couldn't keep my eyes off of you," even though Ginny had told you far more risque things you couldn't help but blush, "Marry me."

That caught you off guard but Ginny was serious.

"Marry me. You're the only certainty in my life, and I know that our time on this earth is temporary so let me promise myself to you for eternity. Marry me."

You stared at Ginny with your hand over your mouth. You glanced back and forth between Ginny and the picnic basket. Slowly you got up and pulled a small velvet box out of the basket and kneeled before Ginny, "I was going to save this for later, but you beat me to it."

Ginny felt a tear run down her cheek as she shook her head yes and held out her hand. You slipped the thin band onto her finger, kissing her knuckles before saying, "I love you, Ginny Weasley."

"I love you too, Y/n," suddenly, her lips were on yours. They tasted like honey. She pulls you forward and you're laying down on the picnic blanket; your hands roam under her jumper and she curses under her breath because you feel so good on top of her.

"Shhh, come over here."

You look up and see a mother pulling her children down the trail: she sends the two of you a disappointed look.

The two of you turn red with embarrassment and you bury your face in Ginny's shoulder.

"Come on, let's go home so I can show you how much I love you," Ginny teased.

#harry potter x reader #ginny weasley x reader #ginny weasley fanfiction #ginny weasley fluff #ginny x reader

[imafivestarkpopstan]

Harry Potter x Reader

"Fred? What are you doing here?" Fred broke out of his trance and looked at his sister.

"I - I heard Harry and Hermione argueing. Apparently Harry wants to break up with you. H-he and Ginny, they fancy each other, and they got together yesterday."

"Oh."

"Say something." Fred pleaded. He hated seeing his triplet like that.

"Alright, I must admit, I saw it coming. Harry being distant, spending more time with Ginny. Even Ron and Hermione have confided that in me." Y/N's voice cracked. She burrowed herself into Fred. "What does Ginny have that I don't?"

"Nothing. Actually, she's rather spoilt if you ask me. Before she came, even Ron wasn't so spoilt." George said, emerging from behind a tree.

"I think - I think I have to speak to Mum. Obviously it's her." Y/N said. She got up and her triplets watched as she walked away.

TIME SKIP TO SUMMER

"Mum, may I talk to you? In private?" Y/N asked her mother. Mrs Weasley looked up from her knitting.

"Sure, why?" 

"I - I want to know why you're treating Ginny so much better than the rest of us."

"I don't. I treat you all equally."

"Then why, why do you always answer to Ginny 'yes' when she want's something she doesn't need, and then say 'sorry, we have no more money' when we need something?" Y/N asked, tears dripping down her face. Mrs Weasley suddenly looked guilty.

"I... Ginny's the only girl in the family."

"I - wait what? I'm not a girl?" Y/N asked. "Ok. I'm done." She ran up the stairs and got out a rucksack. As she finished  putting all her things into it, Fred and George came into the room.

"What's - why are you packing?"

"Well, as Mum doesn't consider me a girl, I thought I might as well leave. Take care, Fred, George."

"We're coming!" George said.

"No you're not. You need to stay here to look after the others." Y/N said.

"We're coming." Fred said sternly. Y/N sighed, defeated.

"Alright, but Mum is going to say it's my fault she lost two children."

"Two? THree!" George exclaimed.

"Keep your voice down, Gred!" Y/N whisper shouted. "She obviously doesn't consider me her child."

TIME SKIP

"Mum, I'm leaving. For good. YOu can spoil Ginny all you want. Fred and George decided to come with me. It wasn't my choice mother. Don't blame me. Don't bother coming to visit. I've only told Bill and Charlie and Ron where we live, they've promised not to tell. Ginevra, thanks for taking my boyfriend. Mother, we'll be out of your hair now."

Y/N, Fred, and George joined hands and apparated out. Mrs Weasley stared at the spot where they'd vanished.

"Harry, dear, did they tell you where they were going?" She sked.

"Yes."

"Where?"

"Not telling I'm done with you all."

He, too, gathered his stuff and left. He took the knight bus to the Weasley triplets new place.

"Potter. What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be snogging Ginevra?" Y/N asked her ex coolly.

"I made a mistake. It was always you. Ginny... I thought I fancied her. Then when you left - I - I realized my mistake. Will you take me back?"

"I'll have to see whether you really mean it. Prove that you really love me and perhaps I'll take you back."

"Of course. What would you have me do?" Harry asked.

"Go two weeks without talking to Ginny. I'm not saying after that you can't, but it's part of the challenge."

"Alright." And he kept his promise. Two weeks later, he came back. Y/N welcomed him with open arms.

"So? Will you take me back?" Harry asked.

"Yes Harry, I love you."

And the rest is history.

#hp x reader #fred x reader #fw x reader #gw x reader #George x Reader #Ginny x Reader

[ilvermornyidiot]

𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐞 & 𝐞𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐜𝐭

CHAPTER NINE — 𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬

paring; various x fem!reader

words; 2.9k

series list

note; this chapter is very short so i apologize if that's not what you prefer but it's what i'm doing. i wanted to rewrite this chapter but I'm too exhausted, i feel like my heart's only in this 30% of the time and that's when i write. i can't promise that these next final chapters will be good, but i can promise that i will finish this fic.

-

After making sure Cedric is okay, at least as okay as he can be, you inconspicuously flounder out of the tent to bump right into Harry and Ron, who are too distracted by Harry's success to ask where you came from.

Your heart feels lighter as you watch Harry and Ron interact, happy that they're friends again.

-

In the evening you find yourself joining Harry, Hermione, and Ron to a trip to the Owlery, you assume to deliver a letter to update Sirius on the current events. Harry tells Ron what Siruis had told the two of you during your 'meeting' about Karkaroff.

"Fits, doesn't it?" Ron says as you all enter the Owlery. "Remember what Malfoy said on the train, about his dad being friends with Karkaroff? Now we know where they knew each other. They were probably running around in masks together at the World Cup..." You flinch at the remembrance of the World Cup.

"...I'll tell you one thing, though, Harry, if it was Karkaroff who put your name in the goblet, he's going to be feeling really stupid now, isn't he? Didn't work, did it? You only got a scratch!"

You grimace slightly, if only Cedric had been as fortunate.

"Come here — I'll do it —" Pigwidgeon was excitedly flying around Harry's head and Ron grabbed Pigwidgeon by the foot, holding him in his arms as Harry carefully attached his letter to Pigwidgeon's foot.

Ron continued as Harry finished and he walked to the window. "There's no way any of the other tasks are going to be that dangerous, how could they be?"

You felt a sense of dread wash over you, you predicted the complete opposite, since when do challenges in games get easier as you go?

"You know what? I reckon you could win this tournament, Harry, I'm serious— no offense Y/n, I know you're rooting for Diggory," You roll your eyes at his comment but Hermione smiles and you can't bring yourself to feel any sort of contempt towards his light handed jab.

Harry frowns slightly but corrects his expression so Ron doesn't take notice. Hermione's face is serious now as she speaks with her arms filed across her chest, "Harry's got a long way to go before he finishes this tournament, if that was the  first task, I hate to think what's coming next."

"Right little ray of sunshine, aren't you?" Ron says his eyebrows furrowed slightly with Pigwidgeon still in his hands. "You and Professor Trelawney should get together sometime."

You crack a smile even though hearing your almost exact thoughts out loud had tripled your anxiety.

He threw Pigwidgeon out of the window, a brief moment of panic seizing you before the owl pulls himself up. You watch until he fades into the dark sky.

"Well, we'd better downstairs for your surprise party, Harry —Fred and George should have nicked enough food from the kitchens by now."

-

To say the Gryffindor common room was overwhelming would be an understatement. It all seemed to go off at Harry's arrival and unfortunately for you, your's as well as you stand by his side in momentary confusion.

You try to take in everything at once, the gangle of people, the food and drinks hoarding every surface in the room, the fireworks, and a banner of what you assume is Harry flying around the Horntail on his broom.

You hold back a snort at the ones with Cedric, who's auburn hair is on fire.

You go to join Ron and Hermione who sit down at a table but some of your adrenaline from the day is starting to wane and your stomach begs for even a crumb of food.

You pick up some food with Harry, sharing a small smile that makes his heart miss a beat before you both sit by your friends.

"Blimey. this is heavy!" Lee Jordan picks up Harry's golden egg with some struggle, empathizing his point.

"Open it Harry, go on! Let's just see whats see whats inside it!" Lee encourages Harry eagerly, gesturing the egg towards him.

Hermione frowns and you look down to your half eaten food, biting your lip to stop your growing smile.

"He's so supposed to work out the clue on his own," Hermione remarks haughtily. "It's the tournament rules..."

"I was supposed to work out how to get past the dragon on my own too," Harry says in a voice low enough that only you and Hermione can hear him.

You can see Hermione's guilty grin out the corner of your eye but you wear a tiny smirk, hey—you weren't the hypocrite here.

"Yeah, go on Harry, open it!" Several people cheered, Hermione's efforts in vain. It's not like they were helping, they were fulled by their own personal curiosity of what was inside the giant egg?

Lee passes Harry the egg and you watch on the edge of your seat with a breath of anticipation stuck in your throat as Harry follows the groove that circles around the egg before he pries it open with his fingernails.

From your seat right next to him you could see that it was empty and just as confusion began to overtake you, it was quickly thrown out the window as a loud screechy wail burst from the egg in Harry's grasp.

You squeeze your eyes shut as your hands automatically clasp your ears, curling into yourself. The effort is fruitless as the horrid noise can still be heard. Someone yells to shut it and quickly Harry obeys, looking down at the egg with confusion then slowly back up at you, you who has slowly removed your hands— your eyes had flung open as soon as he shut the bloody thing, as your peers already began to speculate what the noise meant.

"Sounded like a banshee... Maybe you've got to get past one of those next Harry!" Seamus says a little too excitedly for your taste and you frown, your eyes darting between who ever speaks and the egg still in Harry's grasp.

"It was someone being tortured!" Neville cried, his face ashen. Your eyebrows knitted together at the sausage rolls sprawled around his feet, he must have dropped them in fright. "You're going to have to fight the Cruciatus Curse!"

"Don't be a prat Neville, that's illegal," George says with his arms crossed, a disproving glare crossing his features. "They wouldn't use the Cruciatus Curse on the champions. I thought it sounded a bit like Percy singing...maybe you've got to attack him while he's in the shower Harry."

You laugh quietly into your palm, your head drooped down, at his remark, Percy's singing had been your unlikely alarm before. George side eyes you with a smirk, knowing you're completely helpless to tell him off.

"Want a jam tart, Hermione?" Fred offers to a rightfully suspicious Hermione. You raise your eyebrows at George silently asking if the tarts were trick free.

He shakes his head just as Fred confirms, "I haven't done anything to them, it's the custard creams you've got to watch—"

Neville spits out something, a custard cream you suppose from his panicked expression.

You shake your head with a small grin, the twins were always highly entertaining. Speaking of Weasleys you wondered where Ginny was. Before you could search for her, your ears had already unintentionally checked back into the conversation.

Hermione had a tart in her hand and you grabbed one as well, narrowing your eyes at Fred's smile before taking a small bite.

"...get all this from the kitchens, Fred?" Fred's eyes averted from you to her, his smile only growing.

His voice is squeaky and high pitched, "'Anything we can get you, sir, anything at all!' They're dead helpful...get me a roast ox if I said I was peckish." You roll your eyes at his impression, surprised Hermione isn't shouting at him.

Instead she asks him, "How do you get in there?".

"Easy, concealed door behind a painting of a bowl of fruit. Just tickle the pear, and it giggles and—" Fred stops suddenly, a glint of hesitation in his eye. "Why?"

"Nothing." Hermione says quickly, her voice just as squeaky as Fred's impression.

"Going to try and lead the house-elves out on strike now, are you?" George probed, leaning forward slightly. " Going to give up all the leaflet stuff and try and stir them up in rebellion?"

People around you snickered and Hermione didn't give them an answer. You leaned back in your chair, arms crossed over your chest, an unamused glare pointed directly at the twins.

"Don't you go upsetting them and telling them they've got to take clothes and salaries!" Fred cries, a hint of a warning in his voice. "You'll put them off their cooking!"

Suddenly there's a squeak and you turn your head just in time to see Neville disappear, a large canary left in his wake. You clasped a rather guilty hand over mouth but your laughter was drowned out from the peels that escaped almost everyone in the room.

"Oh— sorry Neville!" Fred shouted, not looking very sorry at all. "Forgot— it was the custard creams we hexed—"

Soon Neville was back to normal, apart from the feathers and Fred and George were already promoting the damned things.

You left the celebration early, guilt pooling in your stomach at Harry, Hermione, and Ron's disappointed faces but you couldn't spend the night there so you started your reluctant journey to your bed.

...

You couldn't stop the doubt that settled in your head and without your permission made themselves home in the darkest corners on it, after all, maybe Cedric made a mistake?

You were both so busy you rarely saw each other, adding to your insecurities was that you rarely crossed paths in public. What if he didn't want to be seen with you? What if he wasn't serious? The mental taunts were exhausting, and you knew something had to change before you gave out.

As you stalked the corridors, already dreading your next class, someone quickly pulled you into a small hallway off from the main one you were just traversing. Your eyes widen and you struggle in their grasp— "Whoa, love, it's just me."

All fight left your body as your eyes adjusted and you looked up into Cedric's pretty grey eyes, peering down at you, having the audacity to look concerned when he just scared the crap out of you. You huffed as your hands hung limply at your side, Cedric laughing lightly now that he knew you were fine.

You crossed your arms, your eyes softening when he stepped closer to you, pulling you into his embrace and leaving you no choice but to accept it, wrapping your arms around his waist.

"Merlin Ced, you scared the bloody hell out of me!" You said into his chest, feeling the vibrations of his warm infectious laugh against your cheek.

You look up at him, watching the way his eyes crinkle at the corners as sincerity oozes from his every pore, "I'm sorry love, I really am, I didn't mean to startle you."

"It’s alright, I suppose," You mumble sheepishly towards the floor and he smiles.

The feelings of happiness began to fade and your doubts and insecurities started to rise to the surface. You hadn't realized your gaze was stuck on the floor with a frown etching it's way onto your face until he spoke.

He lifted your chin with his hand, looking, more like searching your eyes for something. His brows creased and his eyes were filled with a sudden sadness that made your stomach sink.

"What's wrong?" You avert your eyes, finding the floor to be highly compelling. But you can't escape his eyes, his gaze burning into your face.

You take a step back, his hand falling limply at his side as you hug yourself, finding yourself feeling self-conscious under his unwavering gaze of sympathy. "It's nothing, it's silly at best..." You say, your words not even convincing to you.

Cedric is unfortunately undeterred from your poor attempt at an excuse, he almost looks like he's pouting at you when you sneak a glance in his direction, ducking your head to hide your small smile.

He takes a hesitant step towards, testing to see if he's overstepping his boundaries. You don't move so he takes another step, then another until you can feel the faint exhale of his breath on your face.

"I just feel like, I don't know how to put it into words," You confess honestly, peering up into his eyes as your hands twist anxiously.

He frowns, "Are you...sacred? Ashamed?" You frantically shake your head. "No no, nothing like that I— I really fancy spending time with you and calling you my boyfriend."

He smiles and a giant blush spreads over his face from both ears. The sight gives you some sort of confidence, your insecurities starting to feel silly, like you said before.

"I just, what if one day you decide you can do way better then me? Or the more you get to know me you start to find me irritating?" Your hands gesture the entire time you speak, eventually falling at your side when you no longer have anything to say.

Cedric's eyebrows furrow and there's a crease on his forehead that you would have found endearing if not the certain circumstances.

"I fancy you too Y/n, I enjoy every second spent in your company, you're too good for me." He says with a shake of his head.

He gently grabs your hands, "I can tell you how much you mean to me for the next fifteen minutes but I don't think that's what you fancy."

You laugh and shake his head and he watches you in amusement. "It would be rather nice..." You joke and he laughs, a full head tipped back sort of laugh that makes your stomach curl.

"Maybe if we spent more time together? Not all the time of course—" You say hurriedly and he laughs again.

"Whatever you say love," You roll your eyes but continue with a small grin. "Little things y'know? Like walking me to class and spending time with you and your friends, stuff like that."

He nods in understanding and you can tell he's taking your words to heart. Now you're convinced he's too good for you.

But you're okay with that.

Especially when he leans down and kisses you so tenderly and yet with so much passion that your skin feels hot as if you're on fire.

...

December was as cruel and unforgiving as each year before. Doubts of your relationship with Cedric faded into dust, carried away by the cold winds and off into the sea.

You had met his friends who welcomed you with open arms, always giving you a friendly wave in the halls. And best of all, Cedric walking you to also every class, holding your hand and your books in his other.

News of the Yule Ball spread like wildfire, reaching you on a measly Monday, right after classes you were free to dump your books on your desk, slip out of your shoes, and belly flop dramatically on your bed with sigh muffled by your mattress.

You enjoyed a good ten seconds of bliss before the door lurched opened then shut with such ferocity you lifted your head in a bit of panic.

"Y/n Avery!" Tina shouted, well more like a blur of energy that happened to share her voice, launching herself onto the spot right next to you.

You laid back down, rolling your eyes with a small smile at her antics. But Tina did not share your lack of enthusiasm and quickly recovered from her fall, her next mission: getting you to talk.

"Did you hear? Did you hear?!" Her big brown eyes and never ending energy strangely reminding you of a puppy.

You quirk a brow, shifting sideways to face her, propping yourself up with your arm. "Hear about what?" You ask exasperatedly, she ruined your down time but for Tina to be this excited...you were naturally curious.    

She stared at you blankly, she was not impressed. She huffed and gave in, "Hello, there's a ball happening?! A ball! This is so exciting!" You watched her squeal with faint amusement.

"Well... I thought you'd be more excited, I mean you get to go with Cedric..." She said almost shyly.

You gasped, it's not like your relationship was secret, he walked you to class everyday and you could not miss the glares thrown your way by song of the younger girls, but you didn't except her to be so bold.

You gaped, "You don't know that, besides it was just announced and he hasn't asked me..." You trail off sadly, picking at your bedsheet with little interest.

Tina grasps your hand, a pout on her face, merlin were her pouts your weakness, "I didn't mean it like that, he would be a real wanker not to."

You giggled and she smiled as well, a tentative one that barely showed her teeth. You decide to not put much thought into it, you're almost positive Cedric will ask you, and you've decided you're only moving forward— no more doubts.

"I suppose someone's all ready asked you?" To your surprise she casts her eyes downwards, a flush covering her ears that is barely noticeable.

You smile genuinely, your friend was nervous over her date, for once not boasting to either you or Angie about them.

"I'm happy for you, really." She looks up and smiles mumbling a small thanks.

You bite your lip, weighing your options. You risk it, you just have to know who has the power to make Tina shy.

You lean into her, smirking as you realize how your roles have been reversed.

"So, who is it?"

;

End of chapter nine

A/n I’m no longer doing a tag list because no one on it seemed to interact with my last post and copy and pasting all of this stuff is tiring so i apologize, you can always turn notifications on.

#cedric x reader #cedric x you #cedric diggory x reader #cedric diggory x female reader #cedric x y/n #cedric diggory x you #cedric diggory x y/n #ginny x reader #ginny x you #ginny x y/n #ginny weasley x reader #ginny weasley x you #ginny weasley x y/n #ravenclaw!reader #cause & effect #x reader #reader insert #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter reader insert

[miryum]

A Green and Silver Ring (Mattheo Riddle x Reader)

An arranged marriage between you and Mattheo, one that might lead to something beautiful

Word Count: 10.3k

I know I haven't posted in a long time but I have a plan trust the process. Also, this is me coming out and saying that I love Mattheo Riddle and he's amazing

Warnings: Swearing, bad and manipulative parenting from both Mattheo and reader’s parents, a lot of misogyny (a bit from Mattheo but he gets better by a lot and it’s not that bad), arguments, Tom isn’t Mattheo’s brother and Tom is a creep, arranged marriage, one bed trope, enemies to lovers, greek mythology reference, talk of kids, needing kids to carry on family lines, and kids. Mistress is the feminine term for master (so reader isn’t Mattheo’s side piece when I refer to her as mistress), old timey talk a bit, reader is a bookworm

From the desk of Ginevra

My dearest friend,

My parents have informed me of your engagement. I was ecstatic, yet surprised, when I heard the news. I was of the assumption that your parents were allowing you to choose your husband as your family line is secure in your brother and his wife. Yet, once I learned who your husband-to-be is, I was trepidatious. 

My thoughts are with you, my darling friend, and I pray for you to write to me the moment you get my letter. 

I hate to break the news, but you and your fiancé are the talk of high society. Never before have two such families been intertwined. Even I have had to scold my brothers for their gossip. They seem to forget that our families are close friends. 

I do not ask why your parents have made such a decision. I know they are intelligent adults and surely must have a motive, but I admit that I am blind in that regard. Your engagement seems sudden and unwarranted to me. When questioned, my mother sighed and said I would understand when I grew older. My mother continues to baffle me. I have borne two children and a third on the way! If I am not mature now, I better gain some knowledge quickly. 

Always remember that I am by your side. If you ever need anything, my door is always open to you. I am sure Harry will agree. 

I love you, my friend.

Ginny

From the office of Lorenzo

Miss. L/n,

I believe we’ve never been formally introduced. I’m saddened to say that this letter is as formal as we’ll get - at least until your wedding. I am sure you must be taciturn and mercurial as of now. My father has told me much about you and I believe we’ll make excellent friends and confidants in our hectic world. 

You’re to be my new half-sister, aren’t you? My relatives and friends are petulant to meet you. 

Before any rumours (either about myself or your fiancé) hit your ears, I’ll put a rest to them. Bellatrix, your fiancé’s mother, had an affair with my father. They produced me and in return, I have the privilege of being your fiancé’s half-brother. 

Being a bastard child, I’m no stranger to being ostracised and ridiculed. To be blunt, I’m sure that you will be ostracised alongside me and I believe that is one reason we can connect. 

For rumours of my half-brother, I simply say this: do not fear him. He relishes in the consternation he places in other people, yet when he heard he was to marry you, I saw panic in his eyes like no other. It seems the tables have turned. He is hesitant to be wed, but you are not the problem. He simply doesn’t want to have the responsibility of another’s life on his. Your fiancé is used to belittling people - not supporting them as a husband should.

Any questions you have about your fiancé and my half-brother (whom in case I didn’t make clear, are one and the same), refer to me without any qualms. I am eager to meet you and hopefully make your transition into the Riddle family smoother.

I am well aware you have also lived your life in the upper echelons of society. But, as I’m sure you know, there are multiple circles in our complicated community. The L/ns, the Weasleys, and the Potters, for example, have grown their fortunes truthfully and innocently. They have earned the respect of their people and those whom they employ. The Riddles, Blacks, and Berkshires, on the other hand, have climbed the ranks in unconventional means and by skipping a few rungs on the ladder. They thrive and make their living on the terror and duress they cause those under them.

I’m looking forward to making your acquaintance.

Lorenzo Berkshire

P.S. I hope I haven’t scared you off.

From the office of L/n

Daughter,

You’ll be pleased to hear the engagement has gone through. Your mother and I met your fiancé last night. He seems like a nice man. He will be able to provide for you. His family is influential.

We will return home late tomorrow evening. You will depart for Riddle Estate in a week. Begin packing. 

Your father

From the desk of Ginevra

Y/n,

You worry me with your lack of communication. Usually, you can’t wait to gossip with me. We have such fun at dinners and balls, yet with the most important aspect of yourself, you don’t respond. I’m simply worried, my friend. Are you alright? I can envision you curled in your bed, not letting anyone, even your nursemaid, into your room. Please do not let your impending marriage affect your state of health. It will turn out alright. Everyone I know (even me!) had apprehensions about their marriage. And with everyone I know, it turned out alright. 

Misters Sirius and Remus visited Harry and I the day before last. They came to see James and Albus, but I know there was a hidden reason as well. They know of our friendship and came to ask if the rumours are true. As much as my husband adores them, Sirius in particular can be prone to gossip. The pair tittered and tsked when I told them of your fiancé. Sirius wishes to distance himself from his family, and I know he has pre-existing thoughts of the Black family, and by extension, the Riddles.

Sometimes I take a moment to gaze at the family tree upon my drawing room wall. It is full of interconnected lines and squiggles that sometimes, it makes my head hurt! The web of family ties is complicated and if we’re not somehow related already, I know that we will be once your marriage takes place. It seems the Black family spreads its roots into the Weasley family and the Riddle family- the latter of which you’ll soon be synonymous with.

Give yourself some grace. Your fiancé falls far from the tree; I am sure of it.

Please write to me. I need to make sure my closest friend is doing well. 

Best wishes, 

Ginny

P.S. Hermione wishes to inform you that, from what she’s heard, your Mr. Riddle is quite attractive. I have yet to hear any of the rumours  myself, but at least your husband will be pleasing to the eye. Perhaps it will make the marriage more bearable. 

***

Mattheo strode leisurely through Riddle Manor. It was one of the many estates his family owned, and it was soon to be officially his. Just as soon as he married the L/n girl.

The manor was spacious, which Mattheo couldn’t help but detest. How was he and a wife supposed to fill this void of empty rooms and dark halls? He knew servants and cooks would move in, but they wouldn’t occupy the dozens of upper rooms that were vacated. 

For a brief moment, Mattheo couldn’t help but envision a set of children running around the halls. One of the children would run up to him, shouting, “Papa! Papa!” Mattheo would scoop the child up, grinning, and would carry them to their room. The room would be bright and cheerful, and maybe, just maybe, you would be sitting on a settee, cradling a newborn or helping an older child with their school work.

But for now, the room was dark and uninviting and he had yet to meet his future wife. He had seen a portrait of the L/n family and while they were in lavish, colourful clothing, Mr. and Mrs. L/n seemed cold and stoic - just like his parents. The children, an older son and younger daughter (whom he presumed to be you), seemed kinder and by their body language, Mattheo could tell that the two siblings were close. 

Mattheo slowly made his way down the hall. There were three wings of the manor; two were residential and the other was designed for taking guests. The East Wing - in which he and Miss. L/n would stay - was also fit with an office for him. He was expected to take over half of the family business once he got married. The West Wing would remain empty for now, sans for a large library and the furniture in the bedrooms. 

The boy knew that his bride was to arrive later that day. She would stay at Riddle Estate until the end of the week. Just three short days before they were to be wed in name. Mattheo would move into Riddle Manor tonight, giving servants time to wipe the dust off of tables, shine the silverware, and fluff the pillows. 

Mattheo walked the halls of his new home. His mind was devoid of any thoughts. Perhaps it was simply because he was always numb. Even when he heard of his engagement, Mattheo didn’t make a fuss. He didn’t remember thinking anything. Nothing such as ‘Oh, I can’t wait to meet her!’ or even, ‘I can’t believe mother and father are arranging my marriage! She better be obedient.’ 

No, Mattheo had thought nothing of the sort. He had spent his childhood quietly observing his father and mother, noticing the amount of fear they could inflict on people just by silence. You didn’t have to be loud and dramatic to be powerful. You simply couldn’t be afraid to follow up on your promises - however deadly they were. 

The only question Mattheo had asked when Bellatrix informed him of his engagement was, “and what do we gain from the L/n’s?”

Bellatrix had shot him an callous and apathetic look. “Do not ask questions you needn’t the answers to, boy.” 

Mattheo had glowered, but shut his mouth. 

As he neared the foyer, Mattheo couldn’t help but think how marriage was a component in all aspects of his life. When he got married to the L/n girl, he would inherit a portion of his father’s estates, company, and wealth. Mattheo chucked to himself. Maybe he should’ve gotten married sooner.

***

“Pray tell, why weren’t you here when she arrived?” Bellatrix snarled as she gripped Mattheo’s arm. Her nails dug into his suit as she dragged him towards the drawing room.

“I was busy,” Mattheo replied harshly. Love was not a thing that came instinctively to his family. 

“Doing what? Planning your suidide?” Bellatrix scoffed. “I would march to the Underworld and choke Hades to bring you back.” Mattheo glanced down at his mother, hesitantly surprised. But he knew better than to raise his hopes and dreams. “We need this contract with the L/n’s,” Bellatrix continued and Mattheo’s jaw ticked. Of course. She didn’t love him; she never had. Her son was purely business. He should’ve known better.

“Maybe if you would tell me what the L/n’s provide for us,” Mattheo pulled Bellatrix back before she threw open the door to where you were. “Then I would be more complacent.”

Bellatrix sneered. “You think you’re smart, boy. You think you have everything figured out in that pretty little head of yours. But remember: you’re nothing without the Riddle family name backing you up.” She paused and licked her lips. “But if you must know,” Bellatrix sighed, giving into Mattheo. “The L/n’s just came into some very… lucrative land that we could gain from if you marry Miss. Y/n L/n.”

Mattheo’s eyes flickered to the drawing room door. After a moment, he asked, “is that her name? Y/n?” 

Bellatrix stared at him, aghast. “You didn’t bother to learn her name?!” She scoffed. “With a son like you…” 

She pushed open the drawing room doors and Mattheo trudged after her, muttering, “at least I know her name now.”

You had been waiting for seven minutes and thirty nine seconds in the drawing room of Riddle Estate, the trackage of time dependent on the old grandfather clock standing ominously in the corner. Its pendulum swung back and forth continuously as its second hand ticked by. Mrs. Riddle had left seven minutes and thirty nine seconds ago to fetch her son. 

While the room was perfectly clean, not a speck of dust on even the highest chandelier, it was still a cold and morose room, yet oddly epochal. The wood was the darkest mahogany you had ever seen and the lights cast odd shadows on the dark green wallpaper that had inlays of gold.

Your teacup that you were trying to hold steady was filled with a sad excuse for tea. There was a ring of gold around the mouth of the teacup. On the table beside you, a notch that looked as if someone dug a knife into the surface caught your attention. It was the little things like this that you noticed when you had nothing else to do. Your mind was trying to distract you.

The door then swung open and there stood your fiancé, his stare daring you to oppose him.

“Uh,” you stood, your teacup and saucer still in hand. You quickly placed them on the table, right over the knife nick. “Y/n L/n,” you introduced yourself. You bowed your head in an informal curtsy. 

Mattheo’s eyes flickered over your face. “Mattheo Riddle,” he said coldly. His voice was practically velvet. You didn’t mean to look him up and down, but you couldn’t help it. He was to be your husband, after all.

Mattheo’s hair coiled at the end and his eyes were just as dark as his curls. His nose had a scarred cut on it that looked as if it was just beginning to heal. Your fiancés cheekbones were practically sculpted from marble and for a moment, you believed that the gods had simply breathed life into a statue. Did this make you Pygmalion and Mattheo Galatea?

If it weren’t for their lethal eyes and stern posture, perhaps more would be friendly to the Riddles.

Mattheo spoke, “you’re to be my fiancée.” It wasn’t a question. 

“Yes.” You had the urge to add ‘sir’ at the end, but you bit your tongue. 

Bellatrix hissed something to Mattheo and thrust a small object into his hands. Mattheo rolled his eyes and stalked towards you. “My family ring,” he grumbled. He held out an intricate silver ring with three bands interweaving. A green jewel cut into a thin diamond shape sat steadily in the middle. “It has been in the Riddle family for generations. It’s tradition to pass it down to the wife of the firstborn son. And now that is you…” 

He trailed off and handed the ring to you, it laying flat on his palm. You took it from him, trying to minimise contact with Mattheo. You nodded in thanks and slid it into your ring finger. 

It seemed too concrete to fathom.

Mattheo stared at the ring on your finger. A muscle jumped in his jaw. “My… wife,” he murmured halfheartedly.

***

Three weeks had passed since the wedding and it was as if you had never gotten married in the first place. Yes, it was unsettling to wake up in a bed that wasn’t your own next to a man that you were supposed to call your own. But other than necessary, Mattheo had hardly uttered a word to you.

In the three weeks you had stayed there, you had seen Mattheo a total of twenty eight times, including mornings and nights when you were forced to sleep in the same bed. 

Your mornings, afternoons, and nights were all incredibly boring. You took long meals, pushing your food around. Sometimes you just sat by the window and watched the wind blow bits of grass and dirt past the window. The servants were still extracting the dust between the couch cushions and you tried to stay out of the way, but it only made you feel more isolated.

Mattheo was holed up in his office day in and day out. He had now inherited a large portion of his father’s company and Mattheo was determined to uphold the honour bestowed upon him. He had drafted contracts, sold and bought land, and even hosted a few dinner parties for his associates. 

You detested the dinner parties. Thankfully, Mattheo had yet to invite you to one - hell, he had yet to speak to you about the dinner parties. You had learned of the first dinner party when you had wandered downstairs one late evening because you were thirsty. You had stared at the group of strangers, all dressed in elegance, as they stared back at you in your night clothes. Not saying a word, you had sighed and returned upstairs.

You hadn’t been eager for the marriage, but wouldn't it befit Mattheo to show some affection? Or at least acknowledge your presence?

While you had continuously tried to get your husband to open up to you, his answers had been short and venomous.

It had been a long, monotonous day for you. You had returned to the master bedroom about two hours earlier than you normally would have if you were at home.

With the wealth that you came from, the opulence was sure to be evident, but you had underestimated the Riddle family’s prestige. When Mattheo had first shown you your shared bedroom, you had to allow a flicker of surprise break through your facade. The bedroom was larger than any room in your old home and had a large bed in the middle. The lamps on the bedside table were always dimly lit and the design of the room was the same as the rest of the house - dark and bereft of love and care. 

Your hair had been brushed enough, but you kept brushing simply for something to do while Mattheo finished up in the bathroom. Mattheo walked out of the ensuite with a towel wrapped around his waist. His curls were plastered to his forehead and a bead of water ran down his sternum.

Your eyes flickered to his figure through the mirror, taking in the dips and curves of Mattheo’s muscles as he silently got ready for bed. You tore your gaze away, berating yourself.

You built up your courage and tried to think of a conversation starter. You commented, “my parents wrote to me today.” After no reply from Mattheo, you continued, “they asked me when we would give them grandchildren.” You set your hairbrush down and stared at Mattheo through the mirror, looking for some sort of reaction.

Mattheo hummed noncommittally and put on some sleep pants. He used his towel to begin drying his hair. “It would be behoove us to produce some heirs,” he spoke. His tone was dismissive, as if children were nothing more than an obligation or duty to fulfil.

“Right,” you muttered, knowing that an uninterested reaction was all you were going to get out of him. 

You stood and moved towards the bed. “Goodnight,” you whispered, turning off the bedside lamp and tucking yourself into bed. Mattheo was still putting on his nightclothes and had yet to get into bed.

As you turned off the light and got into bed, Mattheo finished drying himself off and slid into his own pyjamas. He sat down beside you, but didn't bother turning off his own lamp. Instead, he laid against the headboard, reading a book. "Goodnight," he finally mumbled, not even looking at you.

You curled into your blanket. After a moment, you asked quietly, “what book are you reading?”

He looked at you over the top of his book. "None of your business," he replied curtly.

You simply uttered, “okay.” 

Mattheo felt an unwanted and unusual feeling root itself deep in his stomach. He scoffed and said sarcastically, "fine. Go ahead and keep asking questions all night long if it amuses you so." He opened his book again and pretended to read.

A longing and lonely pang resonated in your chest at his harsh words. You didn’t respond and instead turned your face into your pillow. You had known that your marriage was to be loveless, but it still hurt at every unspoken word. Perhaps, if you had been five years younger when you married Mattheo, your spirit would still be alive with the juvenile belief that you could stand up to him.

Mattheo huffed and his gaze turned up to stare at the wall ahead of him. “If you’re so miserable, then why don’t you just leave?” he snapped, not even bothering to hide his bitterness. “I am sure your family would simply love to have you back.” He flipped another page in his book, not even bothering to look at the printed words.

“I never said I was miserable,” you answered quietly, even though Mattheo knew it wasn’t true. Perhaps, though, you believed it to be true. You took a steadying breath, closing your eyes.

Your husband smirked and leaned against the headboard. “What do you call your attitude, then? Why are you so downtrodden and defeated? Surely, you can’t blame me for being frustrated by it.” He knew that he should be taking account of making you feel this way, but he still tried to justify his behaviour. 

“Goodnight,” you reiterated. 

Mattheo sighed dramatically. “Whatever,” he grunted. He closed his book, threw it on the nightstand, and turned off his lamp. The room was encased in darkness except for the dim moonlight coming through the window. He shifted towards the edge of the bed, making sure a noticeable gap was between the two of you. 

He thought back to your conversation. “Why don’t you just leave?” 

It was too late now to apologise.

***

Mattheo let the door swing shut behind him, returning to Riddle Manor after an outing with friends. He glanced around, waiting for a servant to take his coat, but no one answered. An eyebrow cocked, Mattheo slowly walked up the stairs, hearing you instruct the servants on something, every other sentence of yours either containing, ‘please’ or ‘thank you’. Up on the landing, he found you directing a servant who was pulling a rack of your clothing. “What the hell are you doing?” he demanded. “Have you lost your damn mind? Are you trying to send a message or something?” 

“You’ve made it perfectly clear that you have no interest in me, so I’m trying to make this marriage as civilised as possible,” you said diplomatically. “I believe that if I move to the West Wing and leave you in the East Wing, it will benefit our marriage.”

“What exactly do you hope to accomplish with this piteous attempt at attention?” he asked rhetorically. “Do you think it’ll make me want you more?” He stuck his tongue in his cheek, grinning incredulously. “You’re delusional if you think that’s even remotely possible.” He stepped closer to you, towering over you with anger in his eyes. “This is not some game, L/n. This is marriage. You’re stuck with me whether you like it or not.” 

“I’m aware that we’re married, Riddle,” you retorted. “And don’t refer to me by L/n anymore. I am now a Riddle - just like you. However, I am not going to live in a state of constant sorrow and dejection. Having a wing of the mansion to myself may help.” 

Mattheo’s jaw tightened as he stared at you, irritated by your resistance. “Fine,” he growled. “But don’t expect me to come running after you when you decide you want attention. You’re on your own now.” He turned away from you and walked into his now solo bedroom. “Just remember - this is your choice.” 

You felt your anger inflate. “I thought you would like this!” Your voice rose and you tugged a hand through your hair. It was the first time in your marriage that you had fought back. “I have done everything I can to please you, yet nothing is enough for you!” Your voice turned desperate. “What do you want from me?”

He stopped in his tracks, turning around with surprise and disgust on his face. “Dammit, Y/n! Don’t yell at me like that!” His voice thundered, stepping towards you. “I never asked for any of this! I didn’t ask for a wife or for you to try so hard to please me! All of this is ridiculous.” His hand slashed through the air to make a point. “All I want is some space. Space to figure out what the hell I want. But let’s make one thing clear: I don’t care about you.”

“Am I not giving you space?” Your fists clenched at your sides. “I am moving out of the bedroom and out of your way. Yet, you erupt at me and get angry over nothing! You send me mixed messages and I don’t know what to do.”

Mattheo took a breath, trying to regain control over his emotions. “I am not erupting! Lord, you are so sensitive!” he snapped, running a hand over his face. “Can’t you listen for once? I am not sending you mixed signals. I am trying to figure out my place in this unorthodox situation we’re in.”

After a beat of silence, you asked firmly, “did you talk about me?” After seeing a flicker of confusion on his face, you clarified, “when you were out with your friends, did you talk about me? Did you rant about how annoying I was? Did you complain about marriage?”

His lips parted before taking a breath. “Yes, I talked about you,” he admitted begrudgingly. “I complained about how frustrating I find you and how frustrated I am with my parents for arranging this senseless marriage.”

“What did they say?” you insisted. “Did they sympathise? Did they laugh at me? Did they add fuel to your fire by commenting about how… how ‘needy’ and ‘sensitive’ I am?”

Mattheo made a low sound in his chest and rubbed his temples, frustrated by your persistence. “They agreed with me, yes. A few believed that you are too emotionally attached and sentimental. Others chalked it up to the pains of an average marriage.”

Your anger flared up and you said, “Let me tell you this: I never wanted marriage either. But I at least tried. I tried to be a nice and loving wife and a kind human.” You turned on your heel, marching out of the bedroom and towards the West Wing.

Mattheo watched you go, an unwanted feeling of guilt washing over him. He sighed and walked over to the window. “Fuck,” he muttered under his breath. “Why is everything so damn complicated?”

For the next couple of weeks, you stayed true to your word. You avoided Mattheo and his office and stayed in your wing of the mansion. After a week or two, you decided to explore the mansion, stumbling upon a magnificent library. You inhaled in veneration when someone cleared their throat. Mattheo stood behind you, raising an brow. After a silence, you said recalcitrantly, “you never told me that Riddle Manor had a library.”

He smirked at your thinly veiled hatred, amused despite himself. “Well, now you know,” he said dryly. “It’s a perk of living in a Riddle household.” He walked over to a bookshelf and began browsing for a book he required for a contract that was being drafting. He showed no sign of embarrassment or discomfort at your presence. “You may use it whenever you want. But don’t expect me to join a book club or anything juvenile.”

“I would never dream of it,” you said sarcastically. You step further into the library and can’t help but gape at the vastness. You trailed your fingers over the book spines, breathing in the smell of old books. You crouched down to examine a series of poetry titles. “I can read any of these?” you asked hesitantly.

He nodded and leaned against the shelf behind him, crossing his arms over his chest. “Feel free to read whatever you would like. They’re here for the entire household. Well, the servants don’t have time to read books, so in a Riddle household, the parents and children use the library the most.” Your hand faltered over the titles. “If you find something that catches your eye, go ahead and take it. I won’t stop you.” There was a hint of curiosity in his voice, as if he wished to know what topics and books piqued your interest. You hummed quietly, not fully acknowledging his words. You were already picking up a book and leafing through it. Mattheo watched you for a moment, his eyes softening briefly.

Everyday, you returned to the library. It was an escape from the walls of your room and the walls that Mattheo had put up around his heart.

Eventually, the servants recognised your routine and began to start a fire in the fireplace to keep you warm. They moved a loveseat in front of the fire that you gratefully used. You devoured the poetry collection, including Shakespeare and Edgar Allen Poe, and started on the classics. Every once in a while, Mattheo would come into the library, but he wouldn’t talk. He simply took a book and returned to his study. Sometimes, you wondered if he remembered you lived in the mansion with him. 

Mattheo found himself frequenting the library more often, looking for books he had never needed before. A swell of pride filled him whenever he saw you by the fire, knowing that something in his home brought you such comfort. He still refused to speak to you, maintaining distance and ignoring your existence, but he found himself increasingly drawn to your presence. 

One day, on a whim, he decided to take a risk and left a stack of his favourite books on the table next to your chair. That afternoon, you found the stack of books. You smiled despite yourself, though you didn't make any comment to Mattheo. You picked up the first book, sat down in the chair, and began to read.

A week later, Mattheo was hosting a dinner party for his associates. He didn’t say a word about it to you, though you heard the servants preparing for it. You decided not to go, opting to stay in your safe haven of the library. 

After an hour or so of faint music, you heard the door to the library squeak open and your head whipped up. You saw one of Mattheo’s friends, Tom, enter and look around. He spotted you and his lips curled up into a smirk. “So you’re the wife we’ve heard so much about?” 

Your stomach clenched and you replied, “I guess so.”

Tom’s smirk grew wider as he took in your terse response, enjoying your obvious discomfort. He approached you with a lecherous gaze in his eyes before asking, “and how do you find life as Mrs. Riddle? Are you enjoying your… arrangement?” His words dripped with sarcasm, not believing for a moment that you and Mattheo were married for love.

You stared at him. “It has its perks,” you said simply.

Tom laughed derisively at your response, not convinced by your nonchalance. “And what are those perks?” he asked, moving closer to you. “Extravagant gifts? Luxurious vacations? Or simply the privilege of being married to such a powerful man?”

You squared your shoulders. “I am powerful without a man,” you said sharply. “I do not need a man to determine my worth and prowess.”

Tom scoffed. “Really? How exactly did you become powerful on your own?” he asked, challenging you. “I find it hard to believe that you could ever achieve anything significant without the backing of a powerful husband behind you.” He leaned in closer, grinning.

You closed your book with a snap. “The L/n family,” you said, talking of your maiden lineage, “has had control over many estates and affairs for decades. Without Mattheo Riddle, I would’ve inherited half of it, second only to my brother. I would’ve had four auspicious companies at my ready disposal, capable of doing most anything. So, yes, sir, I would have been momentous without him.”

Tom’s smirk faded as he recognised your family name. He remained undeterred, however, stating, “that explains why your husband was so eager to marry you. He must see you as a valuable asset to his business empire.”

As you opened your mouth to retort, the door banged open and Mattheo strode into the library.

Mattheo had noticed Tom’s absence from his party, but when it became too long to be excused as a restroom break, Mattheo had asked his brother, Enzo, if he had seen where he had gone. Enzo had smiled a small smile and whispered, “Tom went to the library. Where your darling wife stays hidden.”

Mattheo saw red. 

He barged into the library, a deadly, lethal, and borderline possessive look deep in his eyes. When he saw Tom flanking you, Mattheo’s expression darkened and his hands clenched into a ready fist. “What the hell are you doing here?” Mattheo demanded, his voice low and dangerous. “This is a private wing of my home - not some place for you to bother my wife.” 

Mattheo moved closer to you, placing himself between you and Tom as if to protect you from further harm. 

Tom quickly stepped back and placed a confident demeanour on his face. “I was simply having a conversation with your lovely wife here,” Tom gritted his teeth.

You scoffed and rolled your eyes, showing clearly that Tom was lying and intruding. You saw Mattheo’s eyes flicker down to you, his eyes softening reassuringly before snapping back to Tom, malice in his gaze. 

“Don’t lie to me,” Mattheo snapped at Tom. “There’s no need for any sort of interaction or conversation with my wife unless I am present.” Mattheo placed a hand on the top of your chair, his fingers gripping it and his bicep flexing slightly to warn Tom.

Tom’s eyes flicked with something you hadn’t seen before: fear. Fear commonly associated with the Riddle name. He adjusted his collar and straightened his posture. “Of course, Mr. Riddle,” he said bitterly.

You raised a brow. “I think it’s time for you to go now,” you said, your face stoic. Tom bowed his head slightly before exiting the library. You didn’t look up to meet Mattheo’s eye. You murmured, “you didn’t have to do that. I had it covered.”

Mattheo watched Tom until he completely left the room before turning to look down on you. His voice was threatening, “you may have been able to handle Tom, but I won’t tolerate anyone disrespecting or harassing you while you’re under my roof. Consider this a warning - if anyone tries to cross you again, they will regret it.” 

“Perhaps you should tell your coworkers that. Not me,” you replied. 

Mattheo’s expression was cold. “Fine. I will,” he growled. “I will not sit idly by and allow anyone to disrespect my wife.” He let go of your chair and adjusted the cuffs of his suit. As if in a business meeting, he said, “And consider this another warning: if you continue to act so stubbornly, I won’t hesitate to remind you of your place in this marriage.”

“My place in this marriage is your wife!” you cried out, finally standing up. “Your equal! Something you seem to forget until it’s convenient for you. Or until another man threatens your… your property! I doubt you see me any differently than this house or your assets.”

Mattheo grabbed onto your arm tightly, pulling you close and leaning down so his face was inches from yours. “Do not ever speak to me like that. You are not my equal - you are my wife and I decide what is best for both of us. If you cannot accept that, then you should reconsider your place in this marriage.” He released your arm and turned away from you, striding towards the door. “I suggest you reflect on your behaviour,” he added icily, leaving the room without looking back.

After he left the library, you let out a scream of frustration. You shoved the pile of books that Mattheo had carefully curated to the floor. They tumbled down, book after book, covers opening and pages bending. Tears pricked at your eyes as you examined the scene. 

You slumped into your chair, the fire in front of your crackling softly, emitting a calming warmth.

Eventually, you fell asleep in the chair, tear stains on your cheeks. In the morning, you woke to the serene morning light filtering into the room - a vast contrast to your mood. The fire had dissolved into crackling embers. Tucked on top of you was a thick blanket and the stack of books that you had pushed over had been re-piled and stood majestically atop the table.

You sighed, knowing you should thank the servants for taking care of you and cleaning up. 

After you walked to the kitchen, your footfalls heavy, you thanked the servants, who were finishing preparing breakfast. They exchanged glances and one piped up, “Ma’am, while we appreciate the sentiment, we didn’t do that. We weren’t aware that you were still in the library. We believed you had retired to bed before the social last night.” They paused and then added, “however, Mr. Riddle didn’t go to bed. He was in his study until morning light.”

“Oh,” was all you could say. You bid them an awkward goodbye before entering the dining hall. 

Mattheo was already seated at the head of the table, his expression exhausted and distant. He didn’t acknowledge you when you approached, focusing instead on the uneaten plate of food in front of him. 

You sat down opposite him and muttered, “the servants informed me that you blanketed me last night and cleaned up the books.” You hesitated and finally said, “thank you.”

Mattheo looked up briefly, his expression unreadable, but he didn’t respond directly. “It was necessary,” he said simply. “You should not be cold and uncomfortable in your own home.” He doesn’t make any effort to engage in conversation beyond that. Something was weighing heavily on his mind and he seemed preoccupied by it.

You hummed in response. Eventually, you stood and whispered to your husband before walking out, “you are not as cold as you want to seem. You needn’t keep the facade up with me.”

Mattheo looked up briefly before returning to his food. His expression relaxed, but he didn’t respond.

***

Later that day, Mattheo sat in his study as he always did. A knock came from the door and he glanced at the clock. It was a bit early for lunch to be delivered, but he announced, “come in.”

The door creaked open and your head peeked into the room. Mattheo’s brows furrowed - not with malice, but with scrutiny. You entered and sat in one of the two seats next to his fireplace. Silently, you cracked open a book you had brought and began to read. 

Mattheo watched you intently, his gaze never wavering as he took in every detail of your face. He tried to find any acrimonious intent behind your actions, but you looked so peaceful. He found himself noticing the details of your face and your beauty as the fire cast warm highlights on your eyes. “What are you doing?” he asked eventually, his voice holding an armour of needed suspicion.

“Reading,” you said simply. 

Mattheo frowned, not convinced by your answer. Why would you read in his study after the way he had been treating you? He leaned back in his chair, his work forgotten. “Isn’t there something more important that you could be occupying your time with?” he challenged.

“Not particularly,” you responded. “You’re in charge of the companies and estates. I have nothing to do. I thought I would accompany you. You must get lonely in a study by yourself.”

Mattheo narrowed his eyes, but ultimately nodded slowly. “Alright,” he agreed after a moment. “But don’t think I will stop working simply because my wife is here.” His posture grew taut as he began looking over documents again. “This is still my office and I expect you to behave accordingly.”

“I’m simply reading,” you murmured, a smile inching its way up your lips.

Henceforth, a routine was established. Every morning, you would knock on Mattheo’s study door, usually an hour or so after he began working. There was rarely conversation, the silence being broken by Mattheo’s scratch of a quill or you turning pages, occasionally being disrupted by the loud crack of a log in the fire.

One day, you had finished your book (it was an excellent book, one from the pile Mattheo had recommended) and stood to go retrieve another one. At the sound of your footsteps leaving his office, Mattheo’s head darted up and he suddenly asked, “where are you going?” 

You paused and turned back to him. “I’m to get a new book. Unfortunately, as wonderful as this one was, it had an ending like all books do.”

Mattheo frowned and a hint of vulnerability broke through his exterior. “Get a servant to do it,” he offered. 

“Well, I don’t know which one I want,” you counted, raising a brow in a smirk.

He huffed and shook his head, returning his eyes to his documents. He grumbled, “I will commission the servants to build you a small bookshelf for my office. You can keep your books there.” You stood, watching him for a moment, admiring him until his gaze snapped up. “Well, go get your book,” he said sharply. “… but hurry back,” he added in a mumble. 

You finally smiled at him before exiting and Mattheo gazed at the place you once stood, trying to memorise how your lips curled up and your eyes crinkled when you smiled.

He rather liked it when you smiled.

***

“Are you alright?”

You sniffed and laughed. “Yes, yes. I’m being foolish.” You wiped some tears from your eyes. “My book is very good.”

Mattheo chuckled lowly. “And what made you cry, hm?”

“A daughter and father interaction,” you replied quietly. 

“Was the father cruel to the daughter?” Mattheo laughed tersely, shaking his head at his documents. “Are your feelings not strong enough to withstand their wrath?”

You frowned at Mattheo, setting the book down. “No,” you corrected slowly. “The father was being kind to his daughter. He was supporting her and loving her; as a father should.” There was a pause as Mattheo looked up at you. “I know that the Riddles are a harsher family - I’ve known ever since I knew I was to marry you. But… but are you alright?” 

You felt absurd asking the question. Yet, when Mattheo couldn’t meet your eye, a wistful sadness blanketing the room, you felt as if you should’ve asked the simple question weeks earlier.

For a moment, he said nothing. Then Mattheo turned in his chair so his back was facing you. "I'm fine," he finally answered, his voice rough and strained. "I am used to dealing with it, I suppose." Despite his insistence that he didn't need anyone's pity or concern, your words seem to have affected him more deeply than he wanted to admit. 

“May I ask a question?” you asked softly.

Mattheo hesitated for a moment before nodding, his eyes never leaving the window as he spoke. "Ask away," he replied, his voice barely above a whisper. He then cleared his throat and said, "but I won’t give a warm and fuzzy answer." 

There was a pregnant pause in the air as you gathered your courage up and suddenly thrust your fears upon your husband. “If we ever have children, which we’re somewhat expected to,” you added hurriedly. “I don’t want them to grow up in a household where they feel as if they have to vie for love or attention. And I don’t want me to be the only one giving them attention.” Mattheo turned his head so his face was angled toward you, but his eyes could still stray to the window if need be. “If we have kids, can you promise that you’ll love them? Even if you don’t love me?” 

Even though your voice was steady, Mattheo knew of the vulnerability deeply rooted within you.

He nodded cautiously, his expression serious. "I promise," he said firmly. "I may not love you, but I will love our children unconditionally. They will never have to compete for my affection or feel neglected. I may not be a fond father, but I will provide for them and protect them as best I can." A protectiveness filled his veins just at the thought of something happening to his future children. 

You nodded once, a sad smile on your face. “Perhaps we’ll have a big family. Enough children to start a sports team.” You smiled at the thought, laughing lightly.

Mattheo smiled, despite himself, imagining a large brood of children running around the manor. It was an oddly appealing idea, even if he wouldn't admit it out loud. "We'll see," he said noncommittally. "I'd rather have lots of sons; they'll carry on the family name and ensure my legacy continues." He turned back around and attempted to focus on his work.

“And daughters too.” You frowned, staring at your husband, even if he wouldn’t spare you a glance. “Daughters can carry on the family name just as well as sons.” A muscle in your jaw ticked.

Mattheo scowled at your defiance, his eyes narrowing slightly. Why hadn’t you just fallen into line? "Fine, daughters too," he reluctantly agrees. "But make no mistake, they will be raised to be strong and capable like their brothers. The Riddle name demands nothing less." 

“And the sons can be soft and caring and sensitive,” you said firmly, crossing your arms. “I thought we agreed that they wouldn’t have to vie for affection. I thought we agreed that they wouldn’t have needless competition in their life. I don’t want them to grow up… like, well… you.” You finally uttered the words that had been hanging off your tongue dangerously. 

Mattheo’s expression hardened as he clenched his fist tightly. "Fine!" he snapped. "They can be whatever the hell you want them to be! But don't expect me to sit back and watch while they become weaklings and failures. We need to teach them to be strong and ruthless like I am." He stood up abruptly, knocking over his chair in the process.

You jump up after him, crossing towards him. You whirled to a stop in front of him, jabbing a finger towards his chest. “Listen here, Riddle. Just because someone is kind and vulnerable doesn’t mean they’re weak!” You growled, “and just because you grew up like that, does not mean that’s the type of household I am going to have.”

Mattheo stepped forward and his hand flew up to grip your wrist. His eyes blazed with anger, but then something changed in his expression and he took a step back, looking surprised at his own reaction. "You're right," he admitted begrudgingly. "I shouldn't have assumed that being vulnerable meant being weak." He ran a hand through his hair, looking embarrassed, yet resolute in his decision. "But don't expect me to be a pushover either. I'll still teach them to be strong and independent."

“Strong and independent are good qualities,” you conceded. “Both for the boys and girls.”

"Agreed," he said. Mattheo straightened his cuffs and cleared his throat. "Our children will be taught to be strong and independent, regardless of gender. They will know that they are loved and valued by both of us, equally." He held out his hand to you, indicating that the argument was over - for now at least. "Deal?" 

“Deal.” You shook his hand defiantly. It was a business deal, but a good deal at least.

Mattheo exhaled and brushed past you. “I’m to a meeting,” he informed you. It was a simple comment , one that was an offhand remark, but to you, Mattheo had just let you into his life. It was something he had never done before. Even if it was just a response to where he was off to, it was a window into his life. A life that now may have enough room to hold you. 

Mattheo paused when he reached the door. “I never knew the way I grew up was wrong until I saw other families. I saw the parents bending down to listen to their children instead of hushing them. I saw parents comforting their children after scraped knees, not pushing them to the kitchen for some rubbing alcohol. I saw parents beaming when their child could plunk out the simplest of tunes on the piano. No one else got berated for being out of rhythm or playing a D instead of an E. I never saw another child get slapped by their parents or scolded as harshly as I was. It was around then I realised that something was wrong. But what was I to do about it?”

Words dried in your throat. You wanted to cry at his words, but you felt dried out. How could someone treat their child like that? It explained so much… 

Your husband was a fragile man, you were just realising. And he was trying to pick up the pieces and present them to you in the only way he knew how. 

"The stars remind me of you,” he said quietly, the change in conversation sudden. “I mean that in the best possible way.” His voice was the softest and most tender as you had ever heard it. You hoped he would keep speaking the melodies that made your heart sing in tune. 

“How so?” you asked, afraid to break the plane of existence that you and Mattheo were carefully standing on.

"They are so beautiful, yet so far away. I may see them, but I can never touch them."

***

The servants didn’t know what to do. The master and mistress, Mr. and Mrs. Riddle, seemed to be at a ceasefire. The cooks lamented at how they had seemed to be doing so well. The maids thought they were destined to doom from the start. The butlers gossiped about Mr. Riddle’s letters to a Mr. Tom, terminating their long-term partnership. The scullery maid still had hope that the husband and wife would come to their senses and live a happy life.

It perplexed the servants when the mistress requested to move her belongings back into the master bedroom and the master looked on, a soft smile on his lips. It confused the servants when the Mr and Mrs began taking meals together and talking in hushed tones late into the night. And it bamboozled the servants when, one summer afternoon, the Lord of the household stood from his desk, cautiously moved to his Lady that was reading by the open window, and asked her to accompany him on a walk. She had accepted. 

There was to be a dinner party, this time hosted at Mr. Draco Malfoy’s manor, that Mr. Riddle was expected to attend. Per usual, the master didn’t invite the mistress, but she was content to stay home. A maid briefly heard the madam whisper to her husband, “hurry home, please? I don’t like it when you’re away.” The maid had scurried away before she could hear the reply.

Mattheo returned home that night, just before the sun was setting. He climbed the steps, unbuttoning his cuffs and loosening his tie. The soft glow of light was still shining under your shared bedroom - something he still hadn’t gotten used to - and Mattheo couldn’t help but smile.

“Why are you still up?” he asked quietly when he entered the room.

“You promised to be home early and I wanted to see you before I go to bed,” you reminded him, a small book in your hands.

“Right, right.” Mattheo chuckled and shook his head, slinging off his tie and jacket.

“How was the dinner?”

Mattheo hummed noncommittally. “Not the worst. A couple of my good friends, Theo and Pansy, were there to help alleviate the pain of socialising. But… I found something odd happening.”

“And what was that, husband?” Mattheo took a moment to relish in the way that word curled off your tongue effortlessly.

“I found myself wishing you were there. Nay,” he quickly corrected himself. “I wished I was here with you.”

“Oh?” Your eyes flickered up towards Mattheo, a slight blush coming to your cheeks. “Why… what do you mean by that?”

Mattheo began to unbutton his shirt and moved towards his closet. “Well,” he admitted, mumbling to himself. “I simply mean that instead of having to socialise with people who are too tightly wound and whose only intent is to take my money,” he chucked his belt into his closet and rolled up his sleeves, “I would rather be at home with my darling wife.”

A smile inched up your lips. “Really? Tell me more about this darling wife of yours.”

Mattheo hummed, stepping towards the bed. He crawled down on the bed, leaning on his forearms to lean up towards you. “My wife… I’ve come to care deeply about her. She is a beautiful, elegant woman, one who has a fiery tongue about her and an intelligent brain that even I cannot rival. She always seems to get her way, even when I try to fight back. It’s as if my wife has a command over me that I have willingly submitted to. And I am not ashamed to say so.” He lightly caressed your arm, sending a trail of goosebumps up your skin. 

“You must be careful, Mattheo,” you uttered. “That sounds an awful lot like love.” 

Mattheo brought his eyes up to meet yours, the sting of tears building up behind them. His voice cracked as he said, “that’s the first time you’ve called me by my name, Y/n.”

Your lips parted in shock. “I- I didn’t realise. I’m sorry-”

“Don’t you dare apologise,” Mattheo demanded before reaching up to pull you into a kiss. 

His lips were soft and meaningful against yours, hungrily trying to gather every ounce of love from you. His kisses were feverish at first, his strong hand coming up to cup your jawline, his fingers just teasing behind your ear, before his lips slowed. Mattheo was a starved man and he wouldn’t let anyone take away his only solace. He shifted so he could be closer to you, gently taking the book from your hands as you surrendered yourself to him. Your hands found his silk shirt, gripping it in your fists. He placed the book on the nightstand and moved so he was hovering over you, never once letting a second go by without feeling your skin against his. 

Mattheo slowly, achingly pulled away from you and his eyes fluttered open to meet yours. “My darling, my love, my life,” he murmured, dragging a knuckle down your cheek. “I apologise for everything I have ever done or said that made you feel inferior. I would be happy to kneel for you in front of my associates and family members - just to show them how much power you have over me.” He took a breath before persisting, “I was foolish. I was incompetent. I didn’t realise how much love I held for you. It is, and always will be, only you. I will promise you this: you will be the only woman I ever touch, the only voice I ever want to hear, the only skin I will ever caress, and the only eyes I ever want to see. I will wake and fall, every morning and night, thinking of you. You are the other half of my heart, for it is you who I love. I will place the galaxies and stars in the night sky for you. If you are ever unhappy, my love, I will not rest until I see you smile again. If you are ever mad, my love, I shall smite whatever upsets you, even if it is I. And I would die a happy man if you could give me only an ounce of what I give you.”

Your breath shook and you swore Mattheo had injected ambrosia into your veins for you were sure your blood was singing with the love that was filling your soul. “I wrote a letter to your mother today,” you offered quietly, as if your mere words could ever compare to the love poem Mattheo had just gifted to you. “And I thanked her.” Mattheo’s eyes flashed with confusion. You continued, “I thanked her for birthing such a wonderful husband and for raising him. I know you u wish to renounce your family, but as of now, I want to thank them with all my heart. Mattheo, I love you.”

“And I you,” Mattheo whispered, bringing his forehead down to rest on yours. His nose bumped against your cheek and he couldn’t contain his grin anymore. “How did I ever get so lucky?” he mumbled.

You laughed lightly. “Luck? Fate?”

Mattheo shook his head and his nose brushed light curves over your skin. “No, my wife. Simply love. Pure, unconditional love.”

***

The house was bright, the curtains pulled as far open as they could be. Some servants scuttled around, holding laundry or preparing for dinner. Meanwhile, Mattheo strode leisurely through the halls, smiling lovingly as his nephews chased each other through the halls. “What do I say, boys?” he called after them.

“Have fun, be safe, and don’t get caught!” they yelled back before running around a corner.

Enzo jogged after them and grumbled to Mattheo, “it’s not your duty to rule them up.”

“As their favourite uncle, yes, it is.”

“Your wife is in Andromeda’s room,” Enzo told his brother before sprinting off after his sons. Enzo wasn’t usually at Riddle Manor, but today was a special day. It was Orion’s birthday.

Mattheo chuckled to himself before Orion raced up the steps, panting. “Papa! Papa!” 

Mattheo grinned widely and scooped Orion up. “Are you alright, hm? What’ve you been up to?”

“Aunt Pansy’s carriage just pulled up!” Orion bounced in Mattheo’s arms, beaming.

“And you’re not even dressed,” Mattheo stared at Orion, pretending to be stunned. “Where’s your mother, Ori?”

“She’s helping Andy get dressed,” Orion announced. Mattheo nodded and carried his son to his daughter’s room. “Mum!” Orion cried out, seeing Y/n standing behind Andromeda, knotting her hair into a braid. 

“Oh, my darling,” Y/n tied Andy’s hair up before crossing to Mattheo and taking Orion from his arms. “Are you excited for your birthday?”

Orion hummed excitedly and wiggled down from Y/n’s arms. He darted to Andromeda and wrapped himself around her in a tight hug. Andromeda grumbled, but allowed him to cling to her as she finished her hair and rouge.

Mattheo took Y/n’s hand and pulled her back toward him, nudging his nose against hers. “Look at that,” he murmured, reaching down to play with the silver and green ring on your finger. “Mine.” He pressed a kiss to your temple. Slowly, as to not arouse suspicion from your children, he backed you up and caged you against the wall in his arms. “Seven years with you and two beautiful children to show for it.”

“Hey, mum? Where’s my- eugh!” Andromeda turned around and reeled back from the scene in front of her. “For the love of Salazar, please get a room!”

“We are in a room.” Mattheo smirked, glancing up from the crook of your neck. 

“Aren’t you two, if I'm doing my calculations correctly, nearing thirty years old?” Andromeda tsked and rolled her eyes. 

“You believe that simply because we’re getting older, I’m going to stop loving your mother?”  Mattheo chuckled before pressing a light kiss to your jawline. 

You shivered and tucked your face into your husband’s chest. “Matty, spare the poor children,” you chastised lightly. “What do you need, darling?” you turned towards Andromeda.

“You used to call me that,” Mattheo whined. He stepped back from you, letting you out of his embrace.

Andromeda sighed and asked, “where is my white shawl? It’ll go well with the dress I’m planning to wear to Orion’s party.”

“Why does it matter what you wear to Orion’s party?” Mattheo asked, puzzled. 

“Because Albus Potter is going to be here,” you said as if it were obvious.

“Harry Potter’s son?” Mattheo asked incredulously. “That scumbag?”

Both you and Andromeda ignored Mattheo and Orion left the room at the sound of Aunt Pansy entering the foyer and shouting out for her favourite nephew.

“Your shawl should be in the library,” you answered. “Ori was using it as a blanket yesterday.”

Andromeda sighed and turned towards the door. “He needs to stop taking my things. Just last week he stole my candelabra so he could read in the dark. Perhaps you should accelerate his schooling. He’s getting bored, you know.”

“We’ll raise our own son, thank you, Andromeda,” Mattheo raised a brow. Andy huffed and and flicked her dress out behind her dramatically, exiting the room. Mattheo turned to you and said, “they get that from you. The love of reading.”

“Yes, but they get their flair for the dramatics from you. And lest us not forget, you keep fuelling our love of literature by buying more books and expanding our library,” you countered.

Mattheo hummed. “‘Tis true. But how could I live without spoiling my wife and children?” He whirled you around in his arms and pressed a long kiss to your lips. “Speaking of children, what would you think of expanding our family?”

You let out a laugh. “You simply like the act of making a bigger family.”

“I love my children too,” Mattheo defended.

You reached up and brushed some of his hair away from his face. “Yes you do,” you smiled up at him. “You love your family very much.”

“Always.”

#mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle x you #mattheo riddle #reader #x reader #tom riddle #ginny weasley #harry potter #lorenzo berkshire #bellatrix lestrange #hermione granger #pansy parkinson #shes a great aunt #draco malfoy #sirius black #remus lupin #blaise zabini #theodore nott #albus severus potter #arranged marriage #one bed trope #enemies to lovers #greek mythology #victorian au #manipulative parents #Tom isn't Mattheo's brother #hope yall like

[weasleyreidstyles]

Serendipity Masterlist

summary: it was only meant to be a purely transactional relationship. he would help her strengthen her abilities in return for her getting his friends out of his father's nasty path. he didn't mean to fall for her, but loving her was the easiest thing in his dark world.

series status: ongoing

“serendipity is the phenomenon of discovering something interesting or valuable by chance”

no use of y/n, but your general nickname is Meadow. All characters are aged up to be over 18. and bellatrix isn't mattheo's mother in this fic (just fyi)

pairings: mattheo riddle x fem!ravenclaw reader; platonic!slytherins x fem!reader; platonic!golden trio x fem!reader

warning(s): 18+ content, angst, fluff, some canon compliance, some canon divergence, typical wizarding world violence, war, torture, drugging, hospitals, familial problems, mean!harry, mean!ron....

** indicates smut warning

~∞~ chapter one

chapter summary: on the trainride to your sixth year, your friends give you a proposition that you can't refuse.

~∞~ chapter two

chapter summary: it's your first day back as a sixth year student. Classes are more intense and your first lesson with Mattheo ensues.

~∞~ chapter three

chapter summary: the first Hogsmeade trip of the year has a rather unpleasant ending.

~∞~ chapter four

chapter summary: after you end up confined to the Hospital Wing, you're surprised when Professor Dumbledore pays you a visit.

~∞~ chapter five

chapter summary: Mattheo has been avoiding you. You find and confront him after a frustrating week.

~∞~ chapter six **

chapter summary: the growing tension between you and Mattheo snaps. He reveals something about yourself that you has scarcely any prior knowledge of.

~∞~ chapter seven

chapter summary: joyful dinner parties and a switch in point of view. Two juxtaposing starts to the christmas holidays.

~∞~ chapter eight **

chapter summary: you're given plenty of revelations: all equally as daunting as the other.

~∞~ chapter nine

chapter summary: Ginny ambushes you in the library and Ron's birthday is off to a delirious start.

~∞~ chapter ten

chapter summary: in the aftermath of Ron's poisoning, Harry learns a thing or two about where your loyalties lie when he overhears your private conversation with the headmaster.

~∞~ chapter eleven

chapter summary: intent on avoiding him, you underestimate just how desperate Mattheo is to be around you.

~∞~ chapter twelve

chapter summary: new friendships are formed and you finally learn to control your abilities. Mattheo comes to a life altering realisation.

~∞~ chapter thirteen **

chapter summary: idk how to summarise this but i will say it's pure smut...enjoy

~∞~ chapter fourteen

chapter summary: friendships are rekindled and you save Draco from certain death in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom, igniting your powers in the process.

~∞~ chapter fifteen

chapter summary: now fully recovered, Draco has a task to complete. The fate of the Wizarding World hangs in the precipice of his actions.

~∞~ chapter sixteen

chapter summary: after a startling and gutting discovery. secrets are revealed and alliances are questioned as Voldemort's tyranny begins to fester into the beginnings of another war.

~∞~ chapter seventeen

chapter summary: Dumbledore's funeral reveals new allies as you navigate a world without its protector.

~∞~ chapter eighteen (coming soon!!)

series oneshots/headcannons:

~∞~ tulips & starlight – valentines day drabble

~∞~ serendipity hcs (mattheo) – a glimpse at his life pre sixth year

~∞~ invisible string – bonus scene from chapter 16 **

series taglist:

(striked out users are ones that i couldn't tag, reblogs of the individual posts have an extended taglist)

@camille-1019 @lovelyygirl8 @xluansstuff @babeylover @thejadeazalea @undercover-smutlover @adhxmoony @dreamingofonceuponatime @thepassionatereader @urmomsgayforme5 @aphroditeisamilf @devotedlycrookeddonut @purplegirls-posts @nofacenonamelikekira @foxboyapologist @lafrone @lovely-maryj @nromanovaswife @leeknows-wife @dracygf @wildlyobserving @ravenclawprincess33 @melllinaa @vellicora @lantsovheiress @emiliahoward @stunkbiggu @vcosette @prongsprincessworld @mattiesgirl @rachmmb @x-kermit-x @sun-fiower-seed @cas-planet @certaindreampost @weirdowithnobeardo @mikalovesicecream @sunasbbie @rainy-darling @faeriepigeons @lovely-blackinnon @hiireadstuff @gimalo135 @elsafromcabinsix @moonlightreader649 @blueshome @nopedefe @spencerreidsthings @navs-bhat @agent-tempest @magimtz23 @y0urm0m12 @sbrn0905 @leona-hawthorne @whatsupb18 @moni-cah @taylorann2013 @unstablereader @gisellesprettylies @nat1221

#mattheo riddle x reader #serendipity series #mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle x you #harry potter #ravenclaw x slytherin #theo nott #hermione granger #slytherin boys #pansy parkinson #ron weasley #theodore nott x reader #mattheo riddle smut #ginny weasley x reader #fred weasley x reader #x reader series #half blood prince #blaise zabini #enzo berkshire #harry potter x reader #hermione granger x reader