#hp oneshots

[dreamcubed]

king of my heart | mattheo riddle x reader

song; king of my heart [taylor swift] pairing; duke!mattheo riddle x baron's daughter!fem!bookworm!reader genre; arranged marriage, fluff, angst, hurt comfort, s2l word count; 11,2k timeline; bridgerton au warnings; minor character death, talk of death, minor character terminal illness, minor character severe injury (involving blood), abusive parents (verbal, neglect, vaguely implied physical), patriarchal gender roles, misogyny, implied ptsd, trauma-related nightmares (nothing graphic), verbal conflict summary; your refusal of marriage led your father to relinquish permission for you to choose your own husband, allowing him to make the decision himself and ensure the most status and wealth possible. the problem? the man he chose for you was closed off and arrogant

this is my longest oneshot yet so buckle yourself up!

masterlist

"i made up my mind, i'm better off being alone."

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Your father hadn't been pleased with you the last couple of years, as you had refused to attend the many balls of the engagement season. Marriage was not within your interests, no, your interests were with the shelves upon shelves of books in your family estate's library.

Of course, that did not matter to Baron D/N, as in his mind a daughter should only be at home until she is of marrying age, at which point she moves to her husband's estate. You despised the patriarchal traditions of your society, but because of those very same traditions, you could do little to change the matter.

"Y/N," he spoke to you at dinner one night, sat far away from you on the industrial-sized table, "Due to your refusal to find a husband, I have had no choice but to find one for you."

Your eyes snapped up to him in shock, and you felt the anger in your fingers as they clutched your cutlery tightly.

"Do not develop an attitude with me," he said, "I have been more than generous the last few years in allowing you to find your own match. You have no one but yourself to blame for refusing attendance at the balls of betrothal season."

"Why should I have to marry?"

"You are twenty years old. It is time you moved on from the L/N estate and last name."

"But why?"

"Because it is expected of you as a baron's daughter," he breathed a deep and angry sigh, "You will not bring shame on to this family."

"What about what I want?"

That is when your mother, the baroness, spoke up, "This is not a negotiation. A husband has been found for you, and- thanking the Lord above us- he is of a higher status than our family."

While your family held title as barons, it was still the second lowest aristocratic title - only two pegs above commoner. It allowed you luxuries such as a large home, servants, and respect, but the chances of you marrying into a higher status were often low. Your mother had come from a titleless family, but one that held a lot of wealth. It had been a blessing to her family to be invited to the prestigious engagement balls, where she met your father.

"He will be dining here tomorrow with his mother. A gown has been prepared for you for the occasion."

You knew there was no hope for protest, so instead asked, through gritted teeth, "What is his name?"

"Mattheo Riddle," your father replied, "The only son of Duke Thomas of Slytherin."

Surprise rippled within you: how had your parents persuaded someone of such high status to marry you? You wouldn't even inherit the title of baroness, as although you had no brothers, you were not the eldest child. Your oldest sister was the only daughter who would continue to live at home, with her husband who would become the baron.

"It was both fortunate and unfortunate timing," your father answered your question without you even speaking it out loud, "Much like yourself, Mattheo Riddle refuses to attend the betrothal balls, but he has finally been persuaded into marriage under his father's wishes."

"Duke Thomas is to pass soon," your mother continued for him, "His final wish before he parts is to see his only son married. It just so happened that your father wrote to him just after Mattheo had agreed to wed, and Duke Thomas jumped at the opportunity, despite our lower status."

"I did not expect anything to come of writing to him, of course," Baron D/N said, "I was merely trying my luck. Since he agreed so quickly, one can only assume that he does not have long left - not long enough to see his son through a betrothal season, at the very least."

You nodded, staring down at your plate.

Your worst fear had come to fruition.

***

"Stand straight, Y/N," your mother spoke harshly to you, as you stood in the entrance lobby of your house in a navy blue gown and a much-too-tight corset. Beside her stood your father, matching the sage green colour scheme your mother was adorning.

The grandfather clock at the foot of the stairs informed you that Mattheo and Duchess Isabella's arrival was imminent. On cue, the knocker of the front door echoed twice throughout the walls and ceilings of the estate, and a servant of yours rushed forward to let the guests in.

You immediately fell into a curtsy alongside your mother, while your father took a bow. A handful of what appeared to be bodyguards of some kind stood either side of the mother and her son, of whom were dressed grandly in dark green. You took the moment to take in Mattheo's appearance as, after all, he was to be your husband. He was taller than you (and looked somewhat older as well), with brown hair and a strong jaw, paired with dazzling yet cold eyes.

"Your graces," your father spoke, "It is an honour to host you in our humble home."

Duchess Isabella gave the slightest of curtsies, before she said, "The honour is all ours, Lord Bombast."

"May I introduce you to my wife, Baroness M/N, and my daughter, Y/N."

You curtsied again as the woman smiled gently at you.

"Then may I introduce you to my son, Mattheo, soon to be Duke of Slytherin."

The man stepped towards you first, and bowed as he took your hand in his and kissed the back of it, rising as he said his first words to you, "It is an honour to make your acquaintance, my Lady."

"Likewise, your grace."

Your party soon progressed into the dining hall, where you sat opposite Mattheo. You remained silent as your parents engaged in conversation.

"Yes, it is simply awful," Isabella said, "He was so worried that he would not live to see Mattheo wed, which is why he was simply ecstatic to receive your offer. He sends his utmost apologies for not being able to attend, of course."

"We completely understand," your mother replied, "Trust me, we place no blame on him for his absence."

"In an ideal world, he would have liked to see Mattheo through betrothal season - he has always believed in the course of natural love - but that is a tedious process and one he likely would not live til the end of. So few people follow the route of arranged marriages these days, so he really was rather glum. Your letter lifted his spirits immensely."

"I am glad for that," your father said, "I hope that his worries can rest now."

"They surely can," Isabella sighed, "Although I am saddened that it took Thomas being on his deathbed for Mattheo to finally agree to marriage."

You observed as Mattheo remained unreactive to the situation, and couldn't help but ponder what married life would be like with him. Would he allow you to indulge in your book obsession? Or would he expect you to fill the traditional role expected of a woman? It was terrifying to you, that this man held the power to take away your one true passion.

"Our daughter has been reluctant to marry also," your father said, "In the end, I had to make an overriding decision."

"How come?" Isabella looked in your direction, expecting you to answer.

Your mother quickly cut in before you could speak, "She has been pre-occupied with her love of literature, which we can hopefully leave to rest now."

"So you are an educated woman, Miss Y/N?"

You nodded, "I never wish to leave it to rest," you side-eyed your mother, much to her frustration.

Isabella hummed, "I do enjoy a good piece of literature from time to time, I think it is vital to have a passion for something in life."

"Where do your passions lie?" you couldn't help but ask.

"I adore art," she beamed at you, "You shall see how grand my collection is once you move to the estate- you needn't worry, of course, I shan't be there often. I plan to spend most of my time in the country house once Thomas passes."

"A painless passing I hope it is."

She smiled sincerely at you.

***

Once the meal concluded, your mother elected to give the Riddles a tour of the house, which caused you to fall to the back of the group alongside Mattheo.

"I don't know what you expect out of this union," he said to you suddenly, his tone harsh, "But I am not here for a relationship with you. I am here to allow my father to rest in peace, nothing more, nothing less."

"If you shall leave me to my literature, then I shall be more than content," you said in response, assuming a cold tone as well.

Evidently, you took him a bit by surprise, but he nodded nonetheless. "Very well then."

Perhaps the marriage would not be such a bad one, if Mattheo was to leave you to your own devices and allow you to continue your life of a bookworm. In fact, it may be an upgrade, as you would no longer have to deal with your parents' nagging about it being an unwomanly hobby.

It was then that your parents turned around to engage in conversation with Mattheo, leaving Isabella to take your side as she gave you a warm smile.

"My son may seem cold, but I promise you that he has a kind heart," she said quietly, so as not to be overheard, "I am somewhat worried about how he would treat his wife, though you seem very capable of standing your ground."

"I would like to think I am, your grace."

"You are to be my daughter-in-law, don't worry yourself with such formalities. Refer to me as Isabella."

"If- if you're sure."

"I certainly am," she sighed, "I think my son needs a wife who isn't afraid to argue with him, as controversial as that may be."

You looked forward to the back of Mattheo's head. "Is that so?"

She hummed, "He's too arrogant for his own good, though I love him so."

"I will do my best to be the wife he needs, Isabella."

"I have no doubt you will, Y/N."

***

The wedding was the following week: it also served as another betrothal event for the masses, as it was currently betrothal season. That element was under Duke Thomas' request, as he wished to see the magic of young love flourish once more before he died - his words.

Despite never wanting to get married, you had thought far enough along the idea to know that you would have preferred a smaller ceremony. You hadn't attended a ball since you were very young, and to be the centre of attention at such a glamorous event was very overwhelming. All eyes were on you as your father led you down the aisle, past the rows upon rows of people you hardly recognised. Your dress was suffocating, but gorgeous, being a mellow cream colour with baby blue embroideries decorating the extravagant skirt.

You felt shy with all the attention, and flicked between staring at the lilies in your hands and Mattheo who was stood at the altar. You hadn't seen him since you first met, but his expression was as cold as ever.

When you reached the step, your father guided your hand to Mattheo's extended one, and said something to him about trust and protection: you weren't really paying attention, as you were alarmingly aware of the nerves within you. Your body's auto-pilot was the only thing getting you to move to face Mattheo after handing the bouquet to your maid of honour - one of your sisters.

As the priest began the introductions, you reluctantly looked up at Mattheo to see that while his eyes were on your complexion, his mind was not. That all too familiar glaze of being zoned out was settled on him, and you couldn't help realise you must have looked the same. His hands felt cold in yours, but perhaps that was only because you were so hot from the anxiety. Even with all the sensations swirling inside of you, you couldn't help but appreciate how gorgeous your husband was; perhaps under different circumstances, you wouldn't have minded being courted by him.

No, those were silly thoughts. You held no desire for marriage.

"Miss Y/N L/N, do you take his grace Mattheo Riddle to be your lawfully wedded husband, and promise to care for him, in sickness and in health, until death do you part?"

"I do," you said as unwaveringly as you could, watching as Mattheo took the smaller gold ring from the velvet cushion presented by the ring bearer, and pushed it on to your left ring finger.

"And your grace Mattheo Riddle, do you take Miss Y/N L/N to be your lawfully wedded wife, and promise to care for her, in sickness and in health, until death do you part?"

"I do," he said monotonously, and with a shaking hand you then picked up the larger gold ring, and put it on his finger - praying to God that he didn't notice your nerves.

"I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride!"

You chewed on your lip, looking up at Mattheo who appeared to be unmoving. For a moment, you thought he wouldn't bother with the final touch of a wedding ceremony, but then his lips were on yours. It was chaste, and only lasted a few seconds, but it was enough for you to get butterflies, and then hate yourself for that.

Cheers then erupted from the audience, and you both turned to face them hand-in-hand, providing a curtsy on your end and a bow on his for them all to see. In the corner of your eye, you saw your mother and father smiling- for once- proudly at you from their seats. Next to them sat the Duke, looking as ghastly pale as ever, with the Duchess sat by his side. In spite of his illness, Duke Thomas looked incredibly happy, and that was the one upside to all of this, you supposed: you had fulfilled someone's dying wish, and surely that was a good deed.

As the progression from the church to the Slytherin estate began, you were faced with many rushing to you to offer their congratulations. You thanked them politely, finding yourself fiddling with your new gold wedding ring as a nervous habit. It appeared appropriate to attach yourself to Mattheo's arm as you walked, and so you did just that. Even if he wanted to, he made no objections, and remained appallingly aloof to everyone that spoke to him.

You at least had the decency to be kind to people, despite the fact you did not want to be there just as much as him.

When you reached the Riddle estate, you were shocked to see how large it was. You had never taken for granted the considerable size of your own home, but in comparison to the Duke's it was nothing but a shed in the back garden.

In the dining hall, the meal began after Duke Thomas provided a toast, one that Duchess Isabella had to help him out with due to his poor health. They were both still in good spirits, even after your father provided a somewhat backhanded toast about you a few moments later. Still, his words reminded you that you would no longer have to live with him and his distaste for your interests.

The library in this estate must be enormous.

After the food was finished, guests began to be ushered to the ballroom where a live band was playing elegant music on their violins and flutes. As per tradition, you engaged in a dance with your new husband, unsure of where to rest your eyes. You landed on his own eyes, as that would be where the audience would expect you to be looking. He returned your gaze with a ferocity that you didn't expect, and it was only then you realised how firmly his hand gripped the small of your back.

Soon other couples joined the dance floor, allowing the two of you to segue off. The peace didn't last long, of course, as everyone was interested in speaking with you both. By this point, your social battery was drained, so you let Mattheo do the talking even though his demeanour was cold and unwelcoming. It was evident how highly he thought of himself just in the way he spoke.

You remained attached to his side, feeling exhaustion all over your body, as he worked his way through the number of eager guests. You had forgotten how shy you got when you were socially tired, and subconsciously found yourself leaning into Mattheo for comfort.

Eventually, you were able to disappear from Mattheo's side and from the ball to sit outside in the gardens, where the night breeze gently tickled your cheeks. The corset was as tight as ever, but you finally felt as if you could breathe somewhat as you admired the starry night sky.

"May I join you?" a feminine voice spoke from your side.

You were a little startled, but looked in the voice's direction to see a woman who appeared to be almost a female version of Mattheo.

"I am Countess Delphini of Oslashire," she curtsied at you, "Mattheo's sister."

You stood up to curtsy back, and went to introduce yourself despite her evidently knowing who you were, but then realised you didn't know what to say for yourself anymore.

Sensing your confusion, she smiled, "It'll only be a short time before you're Duchess Y/N of Slytherin, but for now I suppose you should just say future duchess."

You nodded at her, sitting back down on the bench and gesturing for her to do the same. "Has he always been cold to everyone?" you asked.

She chuckled, "Yes, I suppose he has. He never much liked what was expected of him and grew resentful because of that."

"I can't say I'm all that different in that sense."

"No? Well, then, one can hope that makes you a good match."

You hummed.

"I heard from Mother that you have a love for literature. Is that so?"

"It is. I surely hope Mattheo shan't make me give it up."

"I doubt it. He never was one to care for tradition."

You had obviously already discussed this with Mattheo himself, but you didn't know what else to talk about with Delphini.

"You have your consummation shortly, though," she said, "And while I doubt Mattheo cares for it, everybody else does."

You nodded, "I am aware. The bedding ceremony is just for tonight, though."

"I wish you all the best in your marriage, of course," she gave you a genuine smile yet again, "Write to me if he causes you any trouble - as his big sister I'm sure I can talk some sense into him."

"Thank you, Lady Courtesy."

"Delphini," she corrected, "You're my sister now."

You smiled, "Thank you, Delphini."

***

Delphini had been correct about Mattheo's stance on the bedding ceremony, but he still made the effort to keep up appearances...

...by providing a vial of animal blood to make it look as if you successfully consummated.

You did indeed share the bed that night, but it was in complete silence and as far away from each other as you could manage. When you arose the next day, the servants rushed in and were satisfied to see the blood stain left directly on the centre of the bed, and hurried off to share the news.

Shortly after you were dressed, Isabella knocked on the door with a face wrinkled with worry, and you and Mattheo could instantly recognise the problem. Mattheo rushed out of the door, while you stayed idly behind with the duchess.

"Come," she said, "He will want to see you, you're his daughter-in-law."

You nodded, and followed her to the master bed chamber. When you reached the grand double-door, Mattheo was just exiting, and looked up at his mother solemnly, yet ignored you. Delphini sat on a red velvet bench along the hallway, her eyes cast down.

"He requested Y/N's presence," he said, his voice sounding hollow.

Dumbstruck, you approached the door and tapped twice on the wood. The faintest of "you may enter"s came in response, allowing you to enter the room.

Duke Thomas was sat in bed, in his nightwear, visibly much paler and more exhausted than he was the day prior. Cushions behind him propped up his weak form and a table for in-bed eating was set to the side with half-eaten soup in a fine china bowl. Despite his grave illness, he gave you a small smile.

"I am relieved to hear that your consummation was a blessed one," he said in a gravelly voice, followed by an awful coughing fit, to which you hurried to his side to hand him the glass of water from his bedside table.

"Please, drink, your grace."

He accepted the water, and struggled to swallow some of it. "You are a kind soul," he eventually spoke again, "It is comforting to know my son is in capable hands."

"I will do my best to care for him... and our future children, your grace."

"I have no doubt," he sighed, "I wish that I did not have to leave my dear Isabella and children so soon, but it is the Lord's decision. He knows what he is doing."

"May your journey to heaven be a peaceful one."

He hummed ever so faintly, just as another coughing fit began. This time, he refused the water. "My death is almost upon me. Please, I am entrusting you with Mattheo. As the next duchess, you must keep him in line as Isabella has done so for me."

"Of course, your grace."

"That is all I had to say... I would like to spend my last moments with my wife, so if you could please fetch her for me, I would be eternally grateful."

"Right away, your grace, it has been a pleasure to speak with you."

"You as well."

You quickly exited the chamber, and looked towards Isabella who was sat next to Mattheo and Delphini on the bench. They were all holding hands with one another, and while the duchess and her daughter showed signs of tears, Mattheo did not.

"He requested his wife in his final moments," you bowed your head, as Isabella sniffed and stood up hurriedly.

"Thank you, my darling," she touched your cheek softly, which made you freeze. Her touch was gone as quickly as it came, but you remained glued to your spot, relishing in the brief feeling of being genuinely cared for.

Delphini graced you with a precious smile when you finally looked in the siblings' direction, and shifted away from Mattheo to gesture for you to sit in between them.

Out of politeness, you obliged, unsure of how to act. You couldn't help but be consumed with sadness also, as that was the closest you had ever gotten to witnessing death, and it pained you. However, you did not want to make the situation about you, and so simply allowed Delphini to take your hand when she sought comfort.

As for Mattheo, you did not know what to do, or what to say. He was not looking at you: his gaze was trained ahead of him as if he were boring holes into a particular spot on the wallpaper opposite.

You don't know how long it was before Isabella rejoined the three of you, composed, yet evidently heartbroken - but it simultaneously felt as if it had been a while, and mere seconds. Delphini rushed to bring her mother into her arms, while Mattheo stood up with a deep breath. You stood beside him, not touching him in anyway, but still close.

"My condolences, my Lord," you said softly.

He did not reply. His eyes remained trained on to the same spot as before.

You knew better than to say anything more to him, and as you turned your gaze back to the sobbing mother and daughter, a thought settled in you: you were now the Duchess of Slytherin.

***

After the funeral, Delphini returned to Oslashire with her husband, and - true to her word - Isabella retreated to the countryside. Mattheo then moved into the master bed chamber, leaving you behind in his old room as neither of you held the desire to share with the other. The several nights that you had been forced to share a bed were awkward, silent, and socially distanced.

You soon found solace in the depths of the substantial Slytherin estate library, where you were only ever bothered by maids dusting the shelves. The large room - much bigger than the one back home - was kitted with plush sofas and armchairs, along with darkened oak desks. You felt at home in the space, and often didn't bother to wear more than a simple plain frock there, with no corset. It was certainly unbecoming of a duchess, but who was there to see you?

Mattheo had a very busy schedule after his father's passing, likely due to having to re-establish allyships and connections. You didn't know for sure, however, as the two of you seldom talked. To keep appearances up for the servants who liked to gossip, you would eat your supper together in the evenings and engage in emotionless small talk, but that was it. The subject matter never ventured further than a brief synopsis of your day's activities, and comments on the quality of the food.

It was obvious he wasn't paying attention when you told him of the new books that you had begun reading, but it wasn't like you were listening either when he spoke about the titleholders he had met with. You would be a hypocrite to be offended by it.

Though, you soon found yourself standing outside of Mattheo's work study, as you had a request itching at the back of your mind. You wanted to begin writing your own novel: to do that you would prefer a typewriter over a quill. Perhaps he would grant you what you wished, after all, it was the first thing you were asking of him.

You nervously tapped on the door three times, praying that your maid had been correct about his whereabouts and you weren't standing outside of an empty office like a fool.

"Who is it?"

"Your wife, my Lord."

You could hear the surprise in his tone when he said, "You may enter."

You complied, and upon entering felt embarrassed about the warmth his appearance left in you. He had removed his blazer, and was simply in a white shirt with the sleeves rolled up. You would be a fool to say he was unattractive.

"What is it you want?" he looked up from the layers of parchment on his desk, his eyes locking with yours. You noticed the black typewriter sat on the edge of the desk and allowed your gaze to linger on it, which he noticed.

"I have a request."

"And what would that be?" his eyes were back on his work.

"I would like a typewriter."

He stilled the movement of his quill, looking at you again with curiosity in his eyes. It was the most emotion you had ever witnessed on him. "What for?"

"I wish to write my own novel, my Lord."

The next few seconds of silence felt suffocating to you as you couldn't at all read Mattheo's expression.

"I understand it is not very womanly of me, however nothing in our marriage is traditional so I concluded that it wouldn't be an outrageous request."

"Very well," he said eventually, "I will arrange a typewriter for you."

"Thank you," you curtsied out of gratitude, "I will not make waste of it."

He watched curiously as you then excused yourself from the office, as he found you a rather peculiar woman. Truth is, you were not what he had expected out of an arranged marriage: he had expected your family to only care for status and wealth, which may be true of your parents, but not you. No, you didn't care for the fact you were the duchess of a large area, or for the hundreds of expensive clothing you could afford: you only cared for literature, which didn't cost him a penny thanks to the size of his library. The typewriter would be the first charge put to your name since you wed.

Yes, you were peculiar, and you fascinated him.

***

There was a typewriter sat on one of the desks in the library the following afternoon, which you saw upon returning from lunch. You hadn't expected your request to be filled so efficiently, but you were far from disappointed: only excitement consumed you as you hurried to take a seat in front of it.

An envelope was laid across the keyboard, with the official Riddle family wax seal keeping it shut. With a frown, you opened it, to see it was a short note from what appeared to be your husband.

I wish to be the first to read your novel once it is completed. - M.R.

You couldn't help the smile that tugged at your lips as you felt that familiar warmth inside you yet again. Your parents would have laughed at you if you had even hinted at the idea of wanting to be an author, but Mattheo - of whom lovelessly married you to please his father - seemed genuinely supportive of your goals.

Perhaps it was arrogance that made him think he had the right to read it first, but that was a thought you quickly pushed aside. You didn't care if it was.

It took you awhile to get used to the feel of typing on a typewriter, and many times did you have to remove the paper and white-out your mistakes, but you couldn't be more thrilled. The ideas swirling in your head were taking life on the pages before you, and you found yourself almost halfway through the outline of the plot you had created by the time a week had passed.

Friday afternoon was when Mattheo entered the library with somebody by his side, someone of whom you didn't recognise. You looked up from your work curiously, as your husband never ventured to this part of the estate.

"This is my library," he said to the man, who had platinum blond hair and a lean figure, "My copy of Dawns Before Dusks should be in here somewhere."

"What purpose is that maid serving?" the man jabbed his thumb in your direction.

You were mildly offended, but then again, you were dressed in relatively casual clothing, and (like usual) you lacked a corset.

Mattheo looked at you, and then looked back at the man, "That is my wife, Duchess Y/N of Slytherin."

One would have thought that the man would be taken aback and started muttering apologies, but all he said was, "She is not dressed like a duchess."

"My Lady," Mattheo said to you, ignoring the man. Your attention was caught in further surprise: he rarely addressed you in such a manner. "This is Earl Draco of Ranibury, an old friend of mine. He spends a lot of time abroad, so he was unable to attend the wedding."

"Pleasure," Draco looked you up and down, which made you feel small.

Mattheo took his inner cheek between his tongue. He didn't know why he felt so defensive of you, but how dare someone of a lesser rank not bow to you, his wife?

In order to ease the tension, you stood up and asked, "What was it you were looking for? I know the library quite well, I am sure I can be of service."

"Dawns Before Dusks by Andrew Philips," your husband replied.

You nodded, vaguely remembering running your fingers over it as you searched the shelves not too long ago.

"What is a woman doing behind a typewriter?" you heard Draco ask as you moved to the part of the library you remembered seeing the book in.

"She is writing a novel," Mattheo replied, as if it were the most normal thing in the world, which in your society, it was not.

"She should be birthing children, not writing silly little romances."

Your fist tightened. You weren't writing a romance.

"What my wife does is none of your concern, Lord Courtesy."

You watched as Draco's eyes narrowed through the bookshelves.

"My apologies, your grace."

Your fingers skimmed over the requested book, and you pulled it off the shelf before finding your way to where they stood.

"Here it is, my Lord," you handed it to your husband, purposefully ignoring Draco.

"Thank you, my Lady," he gave you the sincerest smile you had ever received from him, and the way you looked as a result must have been obviously flustered. "Please return this when you have finished reading it," he then said to Draco, "I hope you enjoy it."

"I hope so too."

You were glad to see Earl Draco of Ranibury depart.

***

At dinner that evening, you were more than shocked to hear words of apologies exit your cold-hearted husband's mouth.

"I must apologise for Draco's behaviour earlier. He had no right to disrespect you in such a manner."

"It's- it's alright."

"It most certainly is not, no wife of mine should be-" he stopped himself as his tone became angrier and harsh, which caught you off guard.

Was he defensive over you? How come?

"Nonetheless," he cleared his throat, his voice calmer, "I will not be having him visit anytime soon."

You nodded, "Thank you, my Lord." Admittedly, Earl Draco had put you on edge.

"But on the subject of visits, we are visiting your parents' estate for dinner tomorrow evening. They invited us."

You felt your breath hitch. You had been so utterly relaxed without your parents breathing down the back of your neck whenever you dared to open a book, to the point you had somewhat forgotten of their existence.

Mattheo observed your reaction carefully, but he didn't say anything, instead choosing to continue with the meal in silence.

***

"Welcome back to our humble estate, Mattheo," your mother said to your husband in the entrance hall, completely disregarding your presence. You hadn't missed the cold and unloving walls that once again surrounded you.

"Your grace," your husband passive aggressively corrected, "That is your grace to you, Lady Bombast."

Your mother's face contorted into an expression of mild horror, but she quickly composed herself and said, "I was assuming that as your mother-in-law such formalities would be wavered."

"Well, you assumed wrong," Mattheo held his arm out for you to take, to which you obliged.

"I trust my daughter isn't giving you too much trouble," she continued, sparing a harsh glance in your direction.

Subconsciously, your grip tightened on Mattheo's bicep, and the action did not go unnoticed by him.

"Not in the slightest, Lady Bombast," he said, taking you by surprise with the hint of softness in his tone, "She is a pleasure to have in the house."

"Really?" had you not known your mother like you did, you wouldn't have noticed that the joking tone was feigned. However, the slither of sharpness to her voice as she said the simple word stood out to you like a glaring red warning sign: she was both shocked and horrified that your husband spoke nicely of you.

"Please, come through to the dining hall," your father interceded, having the slightest of word fumbles before adding, "Your grace."

Once all four of you were sat down for the meal, you could only chew on your goose as you listened to your parents talk about themselves for Lord knows how long. Eventually, however, the conversation was somehow steered over to you, despite how little relevance you actually had in their lives.

"One can hope that the literature habit has been put to rest," your father said, looking at Mattheo in a way that suggested it was a question.

"Why would it have been put to rest?" your husband asked in response.

"It's unbecoming of a lady, of course," your mother interjected, "This has been discussed already."

"It's hardly unbecoming to be intelligent and educated, Lady Bombast."

"For a woman it is," your father said, the touch of anger to his tone evident.

You remained silent as Mattheo straightened his back and looked towards you.

"In my family, it is seen as a virtue to have a wife or daughter of whom is intellectually capable. In fact, it is vital. What if something were to happen to me while our children were still young? My Lady Y/N would have to be in charge until the eldest is an adult. It would not do for her to be incapable of such a task."

Your parents, for once, were completely silent. Meanwhile, you couldn't stop a smile from itching to form on your face.

"Y/N has recently started writing her own novel, in fact. That is something the average man even struggles with, so perhaps it would do for you to stop speaking down to my wife, especially when she is your superior?"

"Of course, your grace, my apologies," your father eventually spoke.

Mattheo scoffed, and your eyes widened further.

"Classically stupid of a man such as yourself to apologise not to the woman you have offended, but to her husband."

You observed as your father gulped discreetly and made eye contact with you. "My apologies, Y/N."

For the first time, you decided to speak up, still feeling spiteful towards them. "Your grace," you corrected, pleased to see your father's shocked reaction, "It's your grace to you, Lord Bombast."

"Surely you don't mean that," your mother said, "We are your parents, Y/N-"

"Once you have earned the right to address me by my first name, I will allow you to do so."

You flicked your eyes to Mattheo, of whom had the vague ghost of a smirk gracing his lips as he looked at you.

***

Due to the journey between the Riddle estate and your childhood home being a long one, you and Mattheo were to stay the night at your parents'. This, of course, meant that you would be sharing a bed chamber as well as a bed, as your parents were not aware of your unusual sleeping arrangement at home.

Once you exited the large wardrobe in your night robes, you couldn't help but smile at Mattheo sat at the foot of the bed in await for his turn to change. This moment wasn't like the short period after you had just wed when the two of you shared, no, back then you wouldn't dare to look in his direction at all. In fact, you would be long asleep by the time he retired from his office, and he would be long gone by the time you awoke. You would've believed he didn't sleep in the same bed at all if it weren't for the couple of occasions you woke up in the middle of the night needing to use the toilet, to see him asleep on his side of the bed.

Now that you thought about it, you hadn't gone to bed at both the same time and place as him since the day of your wedding.

"Thank you, my Lord," you said gently, giving him a pathetically subtle curtsy, "I appreciate you defending my honour."

"You may call me Mattheo, darling."

Your stomach flipped at the nickname, and you nodded your head a little too excitedly, "Thank you, Mattheo."

"Of course," he stood up, facing you proudly, "No wife of mine should be disrespected in such a manner."

You smiled, and for a second he looked like he was going to return it, but then he disappeared into the wardrobe to get changed himself. Despite that, you didn't feel defeated in the slightest - no, you felt hopeful that this marriage might not be a loveless one, even if it took a while.

It was that night that you had a nightmare.

It was strange, really, that you had never once had a nightmare when growing up within those walls, despite your parents disregarding you every step of the way, leaving you to be raised by the servants. You had never even been a child who frequented nightmares unrelated to home life: consisting of ghouls and monsters, as was normal at a young age. No, you weren't someone to have night terrors.

Perhaps it was the fact you had lived in peace for a short while, away from the suffocation of your parents, which allowed your body to relax and leave its default defensive mode. Yes, that was it - you were off your guard when you arrived for the dinner, and no longer had an effective tolerance for everything bothersome in this estate. Suddenly, your mother's words were no longer something you were used to, and the eery cold draught that followed you around the hallways was no longer something you could ignore.

You were weakened by having experienced a peaceful life, and thus everything in your alleged home was affecting you negatively, like it had tried to do so for years.

You didn't know whether you were frustrated or relieved that you had subconsciously put down your shield.

But, right now, as you watched walls around you close in, with torn book pages flying around, you just felt scared.

"Y/N, Y/N," you heard a panicked voice say, and just like that you were pulled back into a reality where you no longer were being suffocated.

You took in a large gulp of air - ever grateful to feel the oxygen fill your lungs - and forced your eyes open. There, in your line of vision, was Mattheo's head hanging over yours, his hands gripping each of your arms.

His worried expression relaxed once he realised that you were awake, but it formed again when he saw the hot tears flooding your cheeks.

"Are you okay?" he hurriedly asked, moving his hands from your arms to the mattress either side so he could support himself better without hurting you.

That was when a sob escaped your mouth, and as your vision blurred, you lifted your arms up and wrapped them around his neck, pulling him down so he fell on top of you. You began crying into his shoulder, only mildly aware that he wasn't trying to pull away at all, instead letting you hold him. He slowly returned the embrace by dropping one hand into your hair and the other on your waist.

When your sobs eventually died down, he moved from on top of you to a seated position against the headboard, and wordlessly pulled you up with him and into his side.

"Darling, it was just a nightmare," he finally spoke.

You shook your head, "It was too real."

"No matter how real it felt, you are safe now. Safe with me."

Subconsciously, you nuzzled your head into his shoulder and felt the warmth radiating off him.

You remained in silence for a while, but eventually, you parted your lips again to make a statement that caused a switch to flip inside of Mattheo.

"I want to go home."

***

When you returned back to the Slytherin estate, it quickly became apparent that something had changed between you and Mattheo. You started spending breakfast with him as well as dinner, and occasionally he would visit you in the library.

Deep down, you wanted to share a bed with him again and feel the comfort of his presence while you slept, but never would you ask such a question. Instead, you opted to build the courage up to visit him in his work study during the day, with a book clutched in your hand.

"Your grace, his grace is very busy and does not want interruptions at this moment," one of the servants dedicated to your husband said to you, just as you reached the corridor where the work study was.

You don't know what it was inside of you that made you feel so highly of yourself, but you then said, "I am his wife, my husband's rules do not apply to me."

"Of course, your grace," the servant bowed his head, "My apologies."

You nodded at him, and proceeded to where the door you were after was.

You knocked twice.

"What is it?" a harsh tone replied - similar to that of the one he used when you first met.

Instead of replying, you slowly pushed open the door and peeked into his work space.

"Reuben, I told you not to bother-" he stopped speaking when he saw you, and his irritated expression dropped, "-oh."

You bowed your head as you fully entered the room, "My apologies for the interruption, my Lo- Mattheo."

"That's quite alright," he said, "Did you need something?"

You opened your mouth so speak, but then realised that you had no answer to his question.

Mattheo saw the book in your hand, and asked, "Is that a book recommendation for me?"

"No- yes- I-" you steadied yourself, so as to stop the slur of words, "It is a marvellous book that you should read, though I have not finished it myself yet."

He raised an eyebrow at you, wordlessly questioning your presence in his office further.

Your eyes flitted to the armchair tucked in the corner of the room and facing the desk that your husband sat at. "I was- I was..." you took a deep breath, "I was hoping I could join you in here and read while you worked."

"Oh-"

"It was a stupid idea of me, though, my utmost apologies for bothering you, my Lord," you said hurriedly, "Please don't blame Reuben - he did say no interruptions but I used my higher status to force him to let me proceed."

"Darling, if you would allow me to speak, I would like to say that you are welcome to join me in here," he gave you a smile.

And you froze. Mattheo had never truly smiled at you before. Not like that: full and genuine. Not even back in the library when Draco had been present had his smile been so warm.

"I see you had your eyes on the armchair. Feel free to take it."

You forced yourself to nod, despite your composure remaining rigid. He gave you an encouraging look, which allowed your body to slowly unfreeze and move over to the green velvet armchair. Your usual lack of a corset meant that getting comfortable on the chair was easy, and you were soon curled up with the book as if you were a cat.

Mattheo continued with his work, but allowed himself the luxury of glancing at you every now and then, admiring you caught up in your own world.

***

Of course, things were going too perfectly for too long, and you should have realised that a loving marriage with Mattheo wouldn't be an easy feat to achieve. But, to be fair, the obstacle you were faced with was neither of yours fault.

"Your grace," Reuben had said worriedly to your husband, on another day that you had elected to join him in his work study. It was getting rather late, and the sky was already darkening. "Unfortunate news from the former duchess."

Mattheo's face had immediately paled, "What is it?"

"Your mother has taken a rather substantial fall while exploring the woods surrounding your countryside estate," the servant said as quickly as he could, "She is alive - but the injury was severe and she has lost a lot of blood."

"Reuben, prepare the carriage," your husband instructed.

"Yes, your grace," Reuben bowed, and scurried out of the room.

"Mattheo-" you said gently.

"I need to be alone at this moment," he cut you off, much more harshly than he had spoken to you in a long while.

You were hurt, but stood up nonetheless, "Of course, I understand." And then you left the room.

One thing was for sure, however: you weren't letting him go to the countryside estate alone.

It became apparent that he had expected it to be a solitary journey when he was surprised to see you waiting in the entrance hall dressed in appropriate travel wear.

"My Lady, this is a journey I must make alone," he said, his tone cold.

You disguised your furthered hurt well, and shook your head. "It would be disrespectful of me not to visit my mother-in-law when she is so severely injured."

"I do not want you with me." That statement cut deep, but along with the pain came another emotion: anger.

"I will not be treated in such a way," you snapped, "I am your wife, and I am here for you no matter what."

"You hardly know me."

"Because all you do is shut me out," your anger was fizzling into upset, and he could hear that you were suppressing a sob when you said, "So, stop it. Stop it."

Mattheo stood staring at you in silence: with only the candle lamps providing light, his eyes looked darkened. You could just make out that he had his inner cheek pulled between his teeth, judging by the dent in his smooth skin that you could see through your somewhat blurry vision. Finally, he reacted to what you said, and started taking powerful strides in your direction.

Instinctively, you began backing up, but you could only move backwards so far as you soon hit the wall.

Mattheo stilled a few inches in front of you, and appeared to be glaring into your eyes with a ferocity he had only ever briefly shown you before. Sure, he had been cold and arrogant for a while, but he had never been vicious.

You were, admittedly, convinced that he was about to slap you- punch you- hit you in some way or other.

But he didn't.

Instead, his lips crashed on to yours, which caught you so off guard you let out a "hmmph" while his hands cupped your face. The kiss was chaste until you recovered from your shock and took the step to deepen it, allowing Mattheo to begin moving his lips against yours in reciprocation.

"Your grace, the carriage is rea-" Reuben's voice came to a halt as you and Mattheo quickly separated from one another, although he didn't move away from you. The servant bowed deeply, his face paled, "My apologies, your grace, I did not mean to interrupt. I simply came to inform you that the carriage is ready for departure."

"Thank you, Reuben," your husband said, although he wasn't looking at the poor servant - no, he was holding intense eye contact with you, his hand having moved to rest on the wall beside your head.

Reuben looked shocked at having been thanked, but a small grin soon settled on his face as he disappeared back outside to where the carriage presumably was. Of course, Mattheo didn't see that, as his back faced the entrance.

"You told me at the beginning of this marriage that if I left you to your literature you would be more than content, and I have done exactly that. You lied to me," his words seemed harsh, but the teasing tone woven into his voice told you otherwise.

You shrugged, letting a cheeky smile grace your features, "I blame you for making me fall in love."

Mattheo stilled entirely, and you were about to apologise for the impromptu confession, but he spoke again before you could.

"Come, we must get moving," he said, pulling away from you entirely.

You regretted dropping the L word, but at least he wasn't stopping you from going with him.

***

The journey was long: so long that you slept a significant amount of it. Mattheo was too sick with worry to drift off, but he let you lay your head in his lap as you stretched across the velvet seat.

When you woke up, the sky was a golden-orange and the sun was peeking over the horizon, glistening through the open carriage window. You pushed yourself up from Mattheo's lap as you yawned, rubbing your eyes and settling against the backrest.

"How much longer?"

"About another hour."

"Have you slept at all, my Lord?"

He shook his head, and changed the subject, "I have told you already, you don't always have to call me my Lord. Mattheo is fine."

"Right, sorry," you said, suddenly remembering what had happened not long before you left the estate, "I'm sorry for- I'm sorry for saying that back then."

"Saying what?"

"That I... that I - you know - love you."

You watched carefully as he pursed his lips. "It's fine, I- I am not angry with you. I just do not believe I am ready to say it yet."

"Don't feel obliged to say it," you added, "I wasn't expecting a return, but I want to be honest with you. That's how a healthy marriage works, right?"

"Yes, I appreciate it," he gave you a smile, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. You knew that the sadness swimming in his irises had very little to do with you, of course.

***

The countryside estate was much smaller than the main one, but it was still larger than your childhood home. Despite its smaller size, you found it to be more appealing than any previous house you had seen, with the surrounding trees accentuating the controlled yet chaotic flower gardens surrounding the main building. There were a couple gardeners tending to the area, and they clearly had instructions to keep things homely and natural - as opposed to symmetrical and neat, like your usual place of residence.

The very second you stepped over the threshold, Mattheo hurried off in the direction of his mother's bed chamber; you decided he would want some time alone with her at first, and so took control of ordering the servants to bring your belongings inside. The only worker who came with you on the journey was the carriage driver, who was in much need of some rest.

"The master chamber is prepared for you and the duke, your grace," what appeared to be the head servant of this estate spoke.

"Oh- okay," you didn't know how to tell the servant that you slept separately, as Mattheo had taken care of those arrangements when they were first put in place. Instead, you opted to leave the subject alone for now. "What is your name?"

"Diane Higgs, your grace," she curtsied, "At your service."

"Could you prepare breakfast, Diane? We're awfully hungry after such a long journey."

Diane didn't hesitate to pass the message to the kitchens as you felt another rumble in your stomach. You also felt the desire to freshen up, but decided that you should see Isabella before then, so asked the nearest servant where her chamber was.

You knocked on the door when you reached it, and a familiar feminine voice called out, "Who is it?"

"Y/N."

"Oh, darling, come in," the kind woman replied, giving you the green light to turn the door handle and enter, "You needn't knock, Lord knows that Mattheo didn't."

You smiled abashedly, pleased to see her so chipper despite her shallowed complexion. Mattheo was sat on a chair beside the large king-size bed, holding his mother's hand in his own.

Closing the door behind you, you stepped further into the room and cautiously sat at the end of the bed, facing them both.

"How are you feeling?"

"The doctor says I am gradually improving," she sighed, "But it's still early days. The wound has been stitched up-" she gestured to her leg, which was covered by the duvet, "-so it's simply a matter of whether or not it becomes infected."

"The doctor said it was a miracle you didn't die after such blood loss," Mattheo added, "And that your weakened state could mean your body will not be able to fight even the mildest of infections."

"Ever the pessimist," Isabella dismissed him with a wave of her hand, making you crack a small smile, "You take after your father in so many ways, Mattheo."

The man in question rolled his eyes.

"Ah," the former duchess exclaimed, "I am rather hungry, perhaps we should tell the kitchens to prepare breakfast."

"I already did," you said, "I am famished myself."

"Perfect! That means it shan't be long. Normally it's ready when I wake up, but somebody here woke me up earlier than normal." She gave a teasing side-glare to her son.

"I have been worried sick about you, Mother. I couldn't wait any longer for confirmation you are alive."

Isabella chuckled, "Delphini should be here soon. She is a tad further away so it takes her longer." The last sentence was clearly said in your direction.

"Is her husband coming?" you asked.

"I doubt it, the two seldom travel long distances together. Plus, I don't believe the man particularly cares for me."

"I find that hard to believe," you said, genuinely shocked.

"Not everyone is as sweet as you, darling, my son is very lucky."

You looked at Mattheo to see his eyes were already cast on you, the faintest ghost of a smile playing on his lips.

"I shall instruct the servants to deliver everybody's breakfast here," he announced, as if to distract from the subject.

Neither you nor Isabella objected to him leaving the room: part of you wanted some time alone with the woman of whom had been more of a mother figure to you than your own flesh and blood anyway.

"I hear you're writing a novel."

You looked up in surprise, "He told you?"

"Yes, very enthusiastically, too. He certainly adores you."

Your cheeks warmed at the notion. "I have actually finished it now. There are probably still many mistakes, but I have the original copy bound and ready to send to a publisher's."

"Oh, really?"

You suddenly stood up, "I brought it with me - I did promise Mattheo that he could have the first read, but I am sure he would want me to let you instead considering you are bed-bound."

"Are you sure?"

"Of course," you nodded, "I shall fetch it."

Isabella watched as you left with a full smile on her face, meeting her eyes and all.

***

Delphini arrived around lunchtime, without her husband, just as Isabella had predicted. By that point, you had spent some more time with both the former duchess and her son, before the former requested some alone time to which you obliged. That was when Mattheo gave you a tour of the grounds, occasionally giving a brief childhood story that took place in the various locations. You felt ever so slightly closer to him after each one.

It wasn't until dinner did you speak with Isabella again, and it was at the main dining table, with her having had a significant amount of aide to get down there.

"The novel is quite marvellous, Y/N," she said, "I couldn't put it down! I'm not finished yet, though, so no spoilers."

"What are you reading?" Delphini asked.

"Y/N's novel."

Mattheo looked up at you with widened eyes from across the table, and you couldn't help but smile when you said, "I know I promised you the first read, Mattheo, but I figured your mother was more deserving at this time."

"I better at least be the second," he said with a roll of his eyes, but it was clear his anger wasn't genuine.

Delphini and Isabella looked between the both of you with a glint of something in their eyes that you couldn't quite place.

***

When you awoke the next morning, the sunbeams of dawn were peeking through the cracks in the curtain, and placing a golden-pink glow on to the pillows. You stretched, and turned to your side to see one sunbeam landing perfectly across Mattheo's unconscious and worry-free face. In a moment of self-indulgence, you allowed yourself to admire your husband's features: his soft brown curls, his strong jaw, and his plump pink lips. He was such a handsome man that you couldn't help but feel childish butterflies swimming in your stomach.

Because he was yours.

It was then that you felt the need to touch him, to hold him close, to be in his arms - a craving that ran as deep as your bones. Your mind was too sleepy to have regained your usual second-guessing thought process, and the moment felt surreal, so you began shifting closer to Mattheo's half of the bed. The first body parts of yours to touch were your arms - gentle, at first, so as not to wake him. Then your leg touched his, but it wasn't as gentle as the arm, as you hadn't been looking at where his leg was. Thus, it was more of a knock; far from a painful one, of course, but enough to stir him in his slumber.

He felt your presence before he opened his eyes, but when he did he was greeted by your widened eyes staring up at him in fear of being caught red-handed. Fazed wasn't how you would describe him, no, he looked as if he had expected you to be so close to him, at least to some extent.

You hadn't realised he had moved his hand until it was softly caressing your cheek, and you snapped out of your nervous daze when he mumbled the word, "Cute."

You stilled once you had deciphered his mumbles, which Mattheo felt thanks to your body contact.

"Darling," he murmured, "Don't be so shy."

"Sorry," you eventually forced out.

At that, he opened his eyes wider, in contrast to the mere slits of vision from before, and pulled you properly into his arms. "You have nothing to apologise for."

You hummed into his chest.

"When we return home, I would like it if you were to move into my chamber."

Your heart swelled.

***

Isabella, thank the heavens, recovered fully from her injury without infection, and was back on her feet after a few weeks. You and Mattheo returned home after three weeks in the countryside, when you were sure that she was in good health once more. The former duchess had complimented your novel tremendously, and passed it on to her son for him to read, who then passed it on to his sister. By the time you all left, every family member staying with Isabella had read the book, and they had all graced you with praise.

You sent it to a publisher, avoiding the use of your full first name by dropping it to just its initial, so as to not be rejected for being a woman. It was accepted, and while you never met the publisher in person, by the time the day of a month after its first release arrived, many of the higher class of society had read it. You suspected that both your husband and sister-in-law's influence had something to do with its popularity.

It was on that same month milestone that you were hosting your first ever reading, with much more guests in attendance than you had anticipated. It would be your first time revealing that you - a woman - were the author of the book. People had most likely assumed it was your husband, or perhaps a secretive brother of his, that had wrote it, due to the last name Riddle having been the one that you used. While you had always been annoyed that women were expected to change their last names, you were actually rather pleased with the change of your own. You now held the last name of a family that actually cared for you.

That thought alone made whatever consequences of revealing your identity you would have to deal with less daunting to think about. You would have a support system to help you through them.

"Ladies and gentlemen," Mattheo announced from the podium set up in the ballroom specifically for the occasion. The alarming number of titleholders in the room went quiet and looked in his direction. "Thank you all for coming on this momentous day for our family name."

You were stood in between Isabella and Delphini by the edge of the room, both of whom were only visiting for the event, in order to support you. Their presence almost had you completely forgetting that your parents were nowhere in sight, despite having received an exclusive invitation. Although, you could spot a couple of your sisters within the crowds of people.

"I am sure that many of you will be wondering which member of my family it is that wrote such a beautiful piece," your husband continued, smiling with pride as he spoke - a contrast from his usually arrogant stance, "And I truly wish that I could take credit for it - but it makes me just as happy to be able to say that the author is the love of my life. So, without further ado, may I introduce to the podium my dear wife, her grace, Duchess Y/N Riddle of Slytherin."

Gasps rippled throughout the audience, and you gripped Delphini's hand tightly as you prepared yourself for the attention.

"Go on," Isabella whispered in your ear, "They will love you, I'm sure."

You nodded, and let go of your sister-in-law's hand, before beginning the walk to where your husband stood proudly. When you reached him, he placed a kiss on your lips, and then said loud enough only for you to hear, "I love you, my darling."

He hadn't said it before, and you hadn't said it since you let it slip the first time. It was only now you registered that he had described you as the love of his life only moments earlier - to an entire room of people, no less. You bit your lip as you felt your nerves reduce, and replied, "I love you too. Thank you, for all of this."

He smiled, "Of course." And then moved away from the podium, allowing you to gaze upon the audience of aghast faces alone.

"Well," you began, "This is evidently a surprise to you all..."

————————————————

masterlist

written; 11/08/2022 —> 20/08/2022 published; 22/08/2022 edited; 25/08/2023

#mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle x y/n #mattheo riddle x you #mattheo x reader #mattheo x y/n #mattheo x you #riddle #voldemort #lord voldemort #bridgerton au #delphini #harry potter #harry potter oneshot #harry potter oneshots #hp oneshot #hp oneshots #hp

[bookishdreamer28]

Height difference

I hope you'll like it 👐

Mattheo is obsessed with the way his body is towering over yours. He has found himself thinking of how you'd perfectly fit in his arms many times and he can't help but feel his whole body getting hot at the very thought. From the very first moment Theodore introduced you to their group, he was instantly besotted. He was entirely mesmerized by you.

Every time you wanted to grab something that was out of your reach, he was standing closely behind you just to help you, but in reality all he wanted was to feel your small frame against his. And when you look up at him all puppy-eyed, with those eyes, he knew he was down bad already. And he knew he had fallen deeply for you.

He loved teasing you cause your reactions to his teasing were absolutely worthwhile. Seeing your flustered face was something he adored.

-

"How you're doing shorty?" He said in his baritone voice and it took everything in you not to punch the smugness off of his face.

"Stop calling me shorty" you tried look mad and scary with your angry expression but Mattheo wanted to just grab your face and kiss the shit out of you.

"Ok then how about...pixie-"

"NO!" You exclaimed and walked away from him, not being able to stay any longer around his presence but one thing you didn't notice, was Mattheo laughing quietly behind you because he found your walk absolutely adorable.

-

When he gets to hug you, that's when he feels like his heart will burst out. It's the way you snuggle your head in his chest, the way your arms are wrapped around his waist, and the warmth that instantly engulfing him when he feels your heart beating against him. Everything about this feeling is perfect. You just fitted perfectly.

-

His most fave thing about your height difference, is when you tip toe every time you want to kiss him. He's just standing there, the corner of his lips curving upwards displaying a cheeky smile on his face as he watches you struggling while you're trying to give him a kiss.

"You know you can lean down a bit right? I can't do all the work here" you frowned as you looked up at him. He pinched you cheek softly and traced his thumb in soft circles there.

"Yeah but you have no idea how adorable you l- ouch!" You slapped his hand.

"Now, don't make me bend your head down here by force"

"I would gladly let you love" he chuckled and you smirked as you placed your forehead on your palm, sighing.

"Enough with the teasing Riddle, now kiss me" you looked up again, waiting for his lips to finally crush on yours. He felt his heart pounding like crazy against his chest.

He laughed and instead of leaning his head down, he crouched down and scooped you up into his arms, your legs wrapped around his waist and he placed one hand under your thigh and the other around your waist. Kissing you was earth-shattering. The fieeling of your soft lips locking with his, was something he has been craving for so long.

Once you pulled away, you expected him to put you down but he still held you tight against him.

"Will you put me down now?" You tried to fight back a smile as you felt his hold becoming a bit tighter, his locked on you the whole time.

"Nope, I love having you like this love" he murmured against your lips and you giggled as you once again captured your lips together in a kiss which caused your eyes to flutter close and enjoy the feeling.

Thank you for reading!!

#mattheo riddle imagine #mattheo x reader #mattheo x you #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle x you #riddle x reader #mattheo x y/n #matt x reader #matt riddle #hp x you #hp x reader #hp imagine #hp fanfic #mattheo riddle fanfic #mattheo riddle fluff #mattheo riddle oneshot #mattheoxreader #hp fandom #harry potter x you #character x reader #slytherin x reader #slytherin boys #slytherin #slytherpuff #slytherclaw #slytherdor #imagine #my writing

[msvanillalatte]

Feel You Deep

NSFW. MDNI.

WARNINGS: Smut, piv, overstimulation, dom Theo, sub reader, praising, dumbification, a bit of subspace, begging, teasing, dirty talk, pet names, use of the name daddy (not always), breeding kink, size kink?, a tiny bit of aftercare.

Let me know if I missed any, please!

SMUT UNDER THE CUT!

Theo's tip was teasing your clit. You needed him inside you after hours of edging, eating your cunt like a starved man, never letting you feel the true orgasm.

-"You wanna feel me inside you, sweetheart? Just a bit more, I promise, and you'll have my cock deep inside your pussy."

Theo said making you moan and whimper at the dirty talk.

-"Please Theo, please. i.. I need you. I need to feel you please please"

Theo smirked as you begged, watching your arousal mixed with his saliva spilling out of your little cunt.

-"I don't think it will fit, love. What do you think? Can this little pussy take my big cock? Hm?"

Theo said teasingly, making your cunt clench around nothing, feeling even more frustrated.

-"It will! I know it will! I'll take it like a good girl, please, please, I need to feel y... OH!"

You moaned when Theo pushed the tip inside you, your walls stretching and pulsating with desire. Theo looked at you with dark eyes, filled with lust.

-"You wanna come, sweetheart? There's not going back, yeah? I'm sure you'll take it all like a good girl."

Theo slowly pushed his cock all the way, your walls swallowing and almost suffocating him. He was completely inside you, feeling him everywhere. His tip was brushing your cervix, making you cry out in pleasure, but he let you adjust.

-"Look at that, pretty. Look at how good you're taking me, such a good girl. Fuck... Such a tight little pussy, so perfect around me."

At a slow peace, Theo started thrusting inside you deeply, making you moan his name over and over again. Your cunt was aching to be filled to the brim, just like now. Theo groaned, kissing your neck. 

-"S.. so big. Oh my god! That feels so good T... THEO!"

You moaned loudly when the tip of Theo's cock hit that little spongy spot that makes your pussy clench and scream. Surely, the neighbours already know what's happening.

Theo's thrusting speeded, always hitting that spot, making you see blurry and tear up, it felt so good. Your moans were high, Theo hardening even more while hearing your desperate screams and praising you.

-"You like that, huh? Feels good, honey? Let me take care of you, yeah? I'll make you feel good, fill you with my babies, yeah? Good fucking girl"

Theo was kissing your neck, thrusting into you and sneaking his hand between you two to rub your clit, it was so overwhelming. Your walls clenched even more, indicating that you were close.

-"T... Theo, I'm close, please please please let me cum. Please"

-"Go ahead pretty girl, make a mess on my cock. Milk me, yeah? I've got you, so pretty when you make those noises and tighten around me."

And with that you came around Theo's dick, while his hand was still circling your clit. He rode out your orgasm, but didn't stop. He kept thrusting into you, and dirty talking. You knew that Theo had high stamina, but you hoped that he was close.

-"S'too much! Feels good!"

-"I know beautiful, I know, you did so well, but you can take more. Take daddy's cock like a good girl, yeah? You can."

Theo was thrusting even faster now, but it was difficult for him, your walls were the tightest they've ever been, making it hard to pull out. 

-"Sweetheart, I need you to relax for me. I promise it'll feel good, c'mon, you can do it. Let daddy push all the way in. Oh, look at that, do you feel me in your stomach, angel?"

Theo said while looking at the bulge that appeared in your belly when he thrusted. He presses down on it, getting you to your high even faster, his cock hitting your cervix.

-"I'm so deep inside you, baby. Want me to breed you like my own little slut? Fucking hell, you feel like heaven, my girl."

Theo's praise brought you to your second orgasm, triggering his first one. You were shaking, but Theo didn't stop. He was breeding you like he owned you, and his thrusting didn't slow down, in fact, he went harder.

-"Theo! I can't take it, please, no more, no more... P... PLEASE!"

Theo didn't stop, he wanted to see you break one last time. He wanted to see you convulse underneath him, he wanted to feel you spasm around his cock. His mind was filled with absolute lust.

-"Pretty girl, weren't you the one begging for my cock before? I know you can take one more, honey. For me, yeah?"

You started scratching Theo's back while he rubbed circles on your bundle of nerves and left hickeys all over you. It was too much, you were completely in subspace, not even thinking. He was fucking you dumb.

-"You look so beautiful when you moan like that, does my cock filling you up and stretching you feel good? I bet it does, you're clenching so tight 'round me. Oh fuck... If you keep doing that I'll come again, sweetheart. So pretty for me, only for me, yeah? Let me feel you cum around my cock one last time."

That was it. You came. Hard. Your thighs started shaking, your back arching and your eyes rolling to the back of your head. The sight in front of Theo was mesmerising, making him come inside you again.

-"Fuck, look so pretty like this, honey, yeah, take it, I'm filling you up like a good girl, so filthy with my babies."

Theo pulled out of you, feeling exhausted. He was lying on top of you, both breathing heavily. You couldn't move your legs, they felt sore and all of your body was sweaty.

-"You did so good sweetheart, wanna take a bath? Yeah, let me help you."

Theo carried you to the bathroom and cleaned you up while praising you. When he was done he dressed you up and himself and cuddles in the bed.

-"I love you so much, my perfect princess."- Theo said while kissing your forehead.

-"Love you too, Theo."- You sleepily said and slowly drifted off to a deep sleep.

1036 words.

SORRY IF I MADE ANY GRAMMAR OR MISTAKE IN GENERAL, ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE!! :)

-MsVanillaLatte

#harry potter #theo nott #theodore nott #theo nott smut #theodore nott smut #theo nott x reader #theodore nott x reader #smut #fanfic #oneshot #writing #fluff #fiction #hp #hp fandom #slytherin

[mrsriddlenott]

~ Costume? That’s Barley Clothes.~

Theo Nott x fem!Reader

[masterlist]

Summary: Malfoy!Reader who’s annoyed that they can’t be Theo’s date to the Halloween party dresses up to get his attention and ends up with more than one set of eyes on her. This is kinda short, I just wanted a Halloween themed oneshot.

Warnings:Possessive Behavior,Jealousy, Secret Relationship,Toxic(ish)Theo,Smut,Choking, Creampie.

“Baby, you know I’d go with you if it were up to me. I thought he wouldn’t be there I’m sorry.” Theo was annoyed to say the least, not only did his plan fail miserably, but you also seemed to blame him for it. The only reason he even wanted to go to this stupid party was for you, but of course Draco just had to decide last minute he wanted to go after all.

“I’m sorry, I know you wanted to dress up but he’s not gonna sit this party out.” You just eyed the much taller boy, he hadn’t put on his costume yet and could easily decide to stay with you but, “He’d get suspicious,” like it would be the end of the world if Draco knew. All you could do was roll your eyes with a sigh, laying down on your bed with a book as Theo watched you.

“Are you gonna say anything?” You just huffed at him, meeting his eyes for a second before returning to pretending to read your book, “If Draco found out I ditched the party he’s gonna come looking, and if he finds he in his little sister’s dorm he’d throw a fit.” You slammed your book shut, crossing your arms with furrowed brows before eyeing him from where you sat.

“His little sister huh?” You were frustrated, you couldn’t tell what he wanted anymore. One minute he’d be calling you his sweetheart, future wife and mother of his children, and the next he’d barley look at you, laughing in the Common Room from jokes Draco makes at your expense. “Just go to your party, I’m not some little kid who’s gonna cry without your attention for an hour,”

You huffed as his jaw clenched, eyeing you with a flash of anger, “I didn’t say you were a little kid, It’s just that if D-“

“Yeah I know if Draco finds out you’re in trouble,” You sighed as you rolled your eyes, slipping off your bed and leaving Theo trailing you with his darkening eyes, “I’m gonna take a shower, have fun at the party.”

Theo grumbled to himself as he left your dorm, slamming the door behind him as hard as he could just as you slammed the bathroom door. You sighed to yourself as you stared into your mirror, you weren’t just gonna sit out on your last Hogwarts Halloween party with Theo and he should have known that. You quickly threw on your costume and did your makeup light, wanting the glittery cat ears on your head to be the center of attention.

You wore a small black dress that could honestly barley be called a dress, paired with black heels that would bring your height to only a couple inches under Theo. You let your hair fall straight behind your shoulders, holding it back with the cat-ear headband, black eyeliner bringing out the color of your eyes with classic red lipstick drawing attention to your lips. You decided for no bra to let the dress hug your figure entirely, pulling it all together with a tight black belt adorned with a sleek black cat’s tail.

Goosebumps covered your skin as you made your way up the stairs to the packed Slytherin Common Room. A haze of smoke flitted over the various packs of dancing and conversing students while you made your way through to Draco and his friends usual spot.

Your skimpy black cat costume was basic, but a classic that was sure to drive Theo crazy. Your eyes met his as soon as the crowd parted to let you through to the group, leaving almost immediately to rake his eyes across your body as you approached. However you completely ignored him, walking up to Draco and announcing your presence before slipping away to get a drink, feeling Theo’s dead eyes stare into your back as you did so.

You hastily filled a glass with spiked punch and leant against the table with a sigh as the lanky figure of Lorenzo Berkshire approached the drink table only a few feet away from the group,“I didn’t know you were gonna be here tonight,” You eyed his loose button up and black jeans, he wasn’t wearing costume and if he was you had no clue what it was but you didn’t mind. He’d do.

“I wasn’t planning to at first,” You lied, turning to fully face the tall brunette, feeling Theo’s burning gaze on you both now, “But since it’s all you guy’s last year I figured I should come to as many parties as possible this year, don’t you agree?”

You maintained eye contact with Enzo as you lightly bit your lip, watching his eyes fall to watch it bounce back in place before meeting yours again. His eyes lingered in yours for a second as a smile slowly grew on his face. “I’m gonna be honest here, I thought you and Theo might’ve had something going on.” Enzo’s voice was low and intoxicating as he inched closer to you. Out of the corner of your eye you saw Theo zoning in on the words spoken between you and his friend with a clenched jaw, no longer trying to hide his annoyance.

You laughed sweetly at up at Enzo as he eyed you with his bloodshot gaze, “Theo? He’s just my brother’s best friend Lorenzo, why would there be anything going on between us?” You had to make an effort to keep your eyes on the lean boy in front of you as his hand found it’s way to your waist, he tugged you closer to him slightly just as the shadow of Theodore Nott engulfed you.

“Walk away Enzo.” The boy in front of you retreated with raised hands and a mocking smile, sending you a wink that made you giggle as he slipped into the crowd, much to Theo’s dismay. Theo’s large hand took in your wrist as he tugged you toward the boys’s dorms. “Aren’t you afraid Draco will see you leave with me Teddy?”

You forced the most sincere voice you could muster, poking out your lip in a dratamatic pout as he turned to you with daring eyes, “I don’t fucking care.” He spat, tugging you into his dorm room before slamming the door shut behind you both.

“What the fuck are you wearing first of all?” Theo snapped, turning to meet your eyes as he loosened the tie around his neck with a huff. You looked down at your dress then back to him with your eyebrows furrowed before simply saying, “A costume.”

“A costume?” He chuckled, poking his tongue into his cheek as he eyed your body again, “That’s barely clothes.” Theo sighed, eyes dead and set into yours before eyeing your outfit again, though this time he didn’t seem to have a problem with it at all.

“It’s the same thing I would have been wearing if you came with me,” You huffed, crossing your arms with a roll of your eyes before meeting his gaze again with a challenging stare.

“That’s different, I’d have been with you.” You narrowed your eyes at him as he spoke, taking in his sentence with a laugh and shake of your head. “So maybe you should have come with me?”

“I would have if it weren’t for your annoying ass brother,” He snapped, stepping closer as you stood your ground in front of his bed. “Speaking of which, I’m just Draco’s best friend now? Last time I fucking checked not all of Draco’s best friends get to fuck you almost every weekend,” He shouted, his eyes bore directly into yours but you didn’t waver. He didn’t scare you and he knew that, but you both knew you probably should have feared him a little.

“Well I guess I could change that couldn’t I, Enzo seemed rather eager, maybe I’ll start with him.” You laughed, biting at your lip and going to turn around before feeling Theo’s large hands dig into your arms, turning you to face him as he shoved you into the end post of his bed.

“Watch your fucking mouth,” His voice was strained, clearly hurt by your jab but you didn’t care, though you probably should have. “Or what?” Your voice dripped with desire as his face edged closer to yours, your thighs clenching together subconsciously and before your knew it his lips were on yours in a hungry kiss. His hands fell to your waist as yours wrapped around to meet in his hair, tugging at it to egg him on as he lifted you just to toss you on his bed.

“You’re a fucking brat.” He growled, crawling up your body as his eyes dug into you before smashing his lips back against yours. Face paint and lipstick smeared together, ending up in each other’s mouths as your teeth clattered together. “Now I’m gonna have to teach Enzo a lesson on who he can and cannot touch because of you.” He whispered into your mouth making you shiver and sending a rush of warmth directly to your core.

Theo’s lips and teeth worked down your neck, nipping at it and leaving a trail of bruises in their wake as his hands worked to push up your dress. You fumbled with his belt, the metal clinking together loudly as you tugged it off of him and tossed it aside before eagerly unbuttoning his pants and pushing them down. Theo quickly moved your panties to the side, lining himself up and meeting your gaze for consent with hooded eyes before filling you up entirely.

He immediately set a ruthless pace, staring into your eyes as he groaned and grabbed at your neck, “If your eyes leave mine you don’t get to come until I say so, understand?”

Your thoughts jumbled together as Theo hit your g-spot over and over, working overtime just to form the word “yes” while Theo picked up his pace. He kept one hand gripping your neck tightly as the other held onto your hip with a brutal grip. “You’re mine Baby, I don’t fucking care who knows anymore. You are mine.” He growled, mostly speaking to himself as he lost himself in your soft walls.

You moaned up at him as you dragged your nails down his toned back pulling a groan from him before wrapping your legs entirely around him and trapping him between them. Theo began speaking Italian down to you, still fucking into you while watching your face intently, you couldn’t understand a single thing he was saying making you glow bright red as he chuckled down to you.

“You’re absolutely gorgeous.” He muttered as his hips smacked against yours repeatedly, filling the room with the obscene combination of the smack of skin mixing with your moans and the creak of the bed drowning out his whispers of praise. “You feel so fucking good baby, I’m gonna fucking cum. Can I fill you up Baby?”

You moaned his named loudly as he tugged you closer to him by your neck, stealing your breath as you desperately mumbled a yes into his mouth. His hips snapped into yours faster as his hand fell between your legs, fingers finding your clit immediately to pull out your orgasm. You clenched around Theo as he hissed and sped of his thrusts, driving into you harder as he stuttered and moaned loudly. Your name repeatedly falling from his lips as he came deep inside of you pushing you over the edge, you clamped around him while your legs shook and your head became cloudy only being able to think of Theo as he fell on top of you completely.

Theo slowly pushed himself up further to look down at you, your face, neck, and shoulders smeared with his face paint and red lipstick just as his was, your hair a mess on his pillows, your eyes teary and staring up at him. He swore he’d never seen anything so perfectly ruined in his life.

“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me,” Draco stood in the doorway, sighing into his hand after taking in the scene in front of him. His best friend had his sister in their dorm, that they shared. “Eh put a fucking sock on the door next time or something.”

Theo turned quickly as the door slammed shut before he could glimpse his friend, “Does that mean he’s not gonna hex me?” Theo asked, eyes fixed on the cloak swinging back and forth on it’s hook on the door.

~~~~

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[moonstruckme]

Dizzy

summary: when your roommate James comes home after a night out with his friends, he's acting even more affectionate than usual

cw: alcohol

modern au

roommate!James x fem!reader ♡ 2.7k words

You can always hear when James’ friends come over. The door opens and the sound of them comes pouring through into your flat, the boys always in the middle of bickering or joking or telling some incredibly animated story. 

When you hear their noise late on a Friday night, you pause the movie on your laptop and head for the door, drawn towards their loudness. James’ friends are rowdier than anyone you hang out with, but it’s a happy sort of ruckus. They’re fun and hilarious and surprisingly kind, and you enjoy chatting when they come over. 

“Hi, gorgeous,” Sirius sing-songs, spotting you as soon as you emerge from your room. You laugh at his scratchy, worn-out voice. He sounds like he’s probably been singing at the top of his lungs all night. Dark eyeliner has transferred to the skin under his eyes, but Sirius is the only person you know with his particular ability to make dishevelment look rock-and-roll instead of slobbish. 

“Hi,” you say back, grinning at him. Your eyes search behind him to find Remus, just coming through the doorway. As always, he looks completely different from his other half; whereas Sirius has unmistakably just gotten home from a night out, Remus could just as easily have been at the library in his jeans and t-shirt, except for the faint black smudge where Sirius’ eyeliner has seemingly rubbed off on his cheek. Then you catch sight of James, drooping like an overwatered flower with his arm slung around Remus’ shoulder. “Is he okay?”

“Yeah, he’ll be alright,” Remus grunts, heaving your roommate through the entryway. He tries to send you a smile of greeting, but it’s more of a well-meaning grimace. “He just needs to drink some water.” 

“I won,” Sirius says giddily, stumbling over and grabbing your arm. “I outdrank James Potter.” 

There’s a nervous edge to the laugh that bubbles out of your throat. “That’s great, Sirius, congratulations.” You cast an alarmed look towards Remus. “You all had a competition?”

Remus shakes his head. “They had a competition.”

“I won,” James says suddenly, picking his head up as if revived from a deep sleep. “Don’t listen to him, Y/N, I’m the winner.”

Sirius makes a derisive sound. “You can’t even walk, Potter.” 

“I can,” James defends himself, and slips his arm from around Remus’ shoulder. Both you and Remus put your hands out cautiously like when a toddler takes its first steps, but James totters safely to the couch, leaning against it like he’s just finished a marathon and directing a smug smile towards Sirius. “Suck it, Pads.” 

Sirius’ lips curl impishly. His unsteady gaze settles on Remus, still hovering by the door. “Gotta get home to do that.” 

“Alright,” Remus says quickly, stepping forward to take his boyfriend by the shoulders and steering him towards the door. “We’re gonna go home and get to bed—to sleep.” He’s blushing something fierce, and you do your absolute best not to smile. “Prongs.” James looks up from where he’s been toying with the fabric of your couch throw. “Drink some water, and then go to sleep, yeah?” Remus raises his brows, waiting for confirmation, and James presses a solemn hand to his heart. 

“Your wish is my command, Moony-boy.” 

Remus rolls his eyes but turns to go, sending you a quick goodnight with an apology embedded in his voice before he shuts the door behind him. You lock it, and turn back around to find James performing a lazy somersault over the back of the couch and onto the cushions. 

“James,” you laugh, and he smiles up at you like he doesn’t know what’s so funny but is happy to be a part of it anyway, “do you want to come into the kitchen to have some water?”

James turns pensive. “Is that where you’re going?”

“Mhm.” 

“Then sure.” He hops up a bit too fast, and has to put his arms out in front of him to regain his balance. 

You take his forearm in your hand, knowing you won’t be able to support his weight if he really falls but hoping you can at least slow his descent, and begin walking him toward the kitchen. “Are you feeling dizzy?” you ask him.

James hums. “A bit. But in a good way, you know?”

You don’t, but you nod anyway. “Well,” you say with certainty you can’t feel, “that’s good. Chill here for a second, okay?” You prop him up against the counter, and James melts against it instantly in that easy way he has, leaning back on his elbows and crossing his ankles in front of him. The edge of the counter has to be digging into his back, but James makes it look like the most comfortable spot in the flat. 

You start to grab a glass from the cabinet but then think the better of it, opting for a less destructible plastic cup. You fill it with icy water from the tap. 

“Alright.” You pass it to him. “Don’t drink it too fast.” 

James takes the cup with a smile that’s really much sweeter than your tiny gesture warrants. Then he proceeds to slide the rest of the way down the counter, until he’s sitting with his legs spread out in front of him on the floor. After a moment, you decide to join him, crossing your legs under you and letting your back rest beside his. The floor just seems like the place to be right now. 

For the first time since you’ve known him, James seems content to sit in silence, sipping at his water. Neither of you are looking at each other, or really anywhere in particular. It’s definitely a Friday night, more of the noise of voices and traffic making their way up to your flat than you hear on most days of the week, but your home itself is quiet. The light in the kitchen is dim, coming in from the lamp you’ve left on in the living room, and your body relaxes instinctively in the peaceful dark. 

James has nearly emptied the cup when he says, “Hey,” as if he’s just remembered something important.

You look at him. “What?”

“There’s no ice in here.”

You raise your eyebrows. “Did you want ice? I can put some in, I just thought you preferred drinks without ice.” 

Even in the dim light, you can make out enough of James’ eyes to see the brown in them go absolutely molten. He turns toward you more fully, his shoulder and cheek squished up against the cabinets. “Aww, you knew.”

You laugh at him, his smushed cheek pushing his glasses up on his face and his bottom lip jutting out slightly. The effect is that he looks both worryingly drunk and decidedly endearing. “Of course I know,” you say. “We’re roommates. I’m bound to pick up on things.” 

Your words do nothing to curb James’ adoration. “Still, you noticed,” he says, maudlin. “Thanks, sweetheart.” 

Sweetheart. The word resounds in your head like the happy chime of a bell. James is always calling you that, but usually it seems thrown away, a light little endearment he tacks onto his addresses without thinking. This feels different. It lingers on his tongue like caramel, soft and sticky sweet. Sweetheart. 

“Of course,” you say again, and you’re grateful for the poor lighting that’s hiding your blush. “Ready to go to bed?”

James looks at you like you’ve asked him to solve a calculus equation, thick brows knitting together. Maybe it’s the endearment still ringing in your head, but you really want to smooth the crease from between them with your thumb. You don’t. 

“I dunno,” he says after a moment. “Are you tired?”

“A little,” you admit. “Aren’t you?”

He shrugs. “I could be.” And then he’s hauling himself up, an overly complicated process that involves getting his feet underneath him while he’s already using the counter to pull himself off the floor. You have to bite back a smile as you watch, and when he’s done James extends a hand to you. As if you’re the one who needs help. 

You take it but don’t actually put any of your weight on him as you stand, grabbing his empty cup from the counter. James’ hand is big, engulfing yours easily, and the condensation from the cool water still lingers on his palm. He doesn’t let go as you start towards his bedroom. You tell yourself it’d be mean to pull away on your own. 

“Oh!” he exclaims, once again like he’s discovered something fascinating. “I haven’t even asked—how’s your night been?”

You laugh again. You can never seem to stop laughing around James. “It’s been good, thanks. Not as eventful as yours, I take it.” 

James hums in unhappy affirmation. “Lucky you.”

“Well, seems like you got the true night-out experience.” You bring him to sit on his bed, bending to untie his shoes for him and setting them by the door. “Do you wanna sleep in that or change into pajamas?” you ask, fighting the urge to tack on the honey that pushes at your lips. 

There’s no deliberation there. “Pajama pants, at least. I can’t wear jeans in bed, m’not a monster.”

You smile to yourself, locating a pair of pajama pants on the floor and holding them up for him to see. “These okay?”

“Yeah, thanks.” 

You toss them to him. James starts to strip, and you turn around quickly, going into the bathroom. “So, aside from the drinking contest, did you have a good time tonight?”

“Yeah,” he says lightly. You fill the cup with water from James’ sink and find a bottle of ibuprofen in the drawer underneath. “It wasn’t bad. Remus is so busy lately, it’s good to get to see him at all, and beating Sirius is always fun.” He gives a little laugh. “He’s such a sore loser.” 

“He seemed to think he’d won,” you say, your tone teasingly dubious. 

A harrumph. “If Remus doesn’t set him straight on that, I’ll do it tomorrow.”

You chuckle.

“You’ll tell ‘em, won’t you?”

“For sure. Do you have your pants on yet?”

“Oh. Yeah.” You go back into the bedroom to find James comfy under the covers, smiling sheepishly. “I didn’t know you were waiting for me to tell you, sorry.” 

“No worries.” You smile. He looks so sweet like this, curls splayed out around his head on the pillow the way a kid draws rays around the sun. You set the cup and pill bottle on his nightstand, using your proximity to study his face. His pupils are huge and unfocussed, and the smile he’s aiming at you is a bit too dopey for your liking. “You said you were dizzy…do you think you’re going to be sick?”

“No.” James starts to push himself up as if to make his point, then decides against it, resting his head against the edge of the mattress with a tiny grimace. “Maybe.” 

“That’s okay,” you reassure him, grabbing a wastebasket from under his desk. “Here, I’m going to put this by the bed just in case, okay? And you’ve got water and ibuprofen on the nightstand.” 

James doesn’t respond. He’s looking at you dazedly. 

“James.” You tap his cheek lightly. “Do you understand? You need to use the wastebasket if you feel sick.”

His hand emerges from beneath the covers, fingers braceleting your wrist. “Stay with me,” he mumbles. You’re glad he’s definitely too out of it to feel the quick bumping of your pulse beneath his fingers. When you hesitate a second too long, James tightens his grip beseechingly. “Please, sweetheart?” 

There it is again. Your brain buzzes in response. 

“Alright,” you whisper, brushing a soothing touch against the inside of his forearm, and James releases you. “I was watching a movie before you got home. Want to finish it?”

He agrees, and you go across the hall, retrieving your laptop. You climb over him on the bed, pretending not to feel the brush of a big hand across your hip as though meant to steady you. You settle your laptop between the two of you and press play on the movie.

James leans over, resting his head on your shoulder. “You’re always watching this,” he murmurs. “You don’t get tired of it?”

“Not really,” you reply. “It’s my favorite. But if you are, I can change it.”

He makes a humming sound, and you feel the vibrations in your shoulder. “No, s’alright. Bet you can quote half the film, though, can’t you?” 

You grin. “I’m scared,” you say, in time with the actress on your screen. “I don’t wanna get hurt.” You can feel James smiling, his cheek smushing against your shoulder. You lower your voice into a gruff mockery of the male actor’s intonation. “I’m not gonna hurt you.”

James makes a soft sound of amusement. “Cute,” he murmurs, more to himself than to you. 

You fall into an easy silence, blue light cast over your features as the familiar scenes play out quietly on your laptop. You keep sneaking glances at James, thinking he’s either about to fall asleep or be sick, but he’s watching the movie contentedly, head a solid but welcome weight on your shoulder. He’s evidently decided to discard the shirt he’d worn to the bar, and the skin of his bare shoulder is warm where it presses against your arm. He adjusts his head a little, and his curls tickle the underside of your jaw. You don’t know how he gets them so soft. Not through any strict regimen or product, apparently. One good thing about having a guy for a roommate is that he’s never the one who runs out the hot water; he’s in and out of the shower in ten minutes every time. And yet, if you look closely enough, you can usually find at least two or three perfect coils in his hair. Genetics, you suppose. James was blessed with a good lot of them. 

The movie’s not half done before you’re yawning, your eyelids feeling like someone’s sewn fishing weights into them. You try not to shift, but your shoulders rise with the involuntary inhale, and James looks up at you. You yawn again, covering your mouth with one hand as a tear forms in the corner of your eye, squished out when you blink. You wipe it away. 

“Wait,” James says. You go still, looking over at him curiously as he adjusts against the headboard of his bed, pushing himself further upright. He tilts his head. The back of his index finger brushes gently under your lashes. “You always get teary at night,” he says softly. 

You know you should get out from under his touch, but you can’t make yourself. “I tear up a lot when I yawn.” 

Just thinking about it has you yawning again, and James takes your face in his hand, catching the tear that falls from one eye. 

“Don’t cry,” he begs you. “If you cry, I’ll cry.” 

You take his wrist in your hand, giving him a small smile. “I’m not crying, James. I’m just tired.” 

“Okay,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss, feather-light, just next to your eye. You freeze, but he doesn’t seem to notice. “Okay, m’sorry. You’re tired? Wanna go to sleep?”

You have to clear your throat to make sure your voice comes out right. “Sure.” It’s still a bit hoarse. “Wake me if you need anything, okay?”

James takes your hand, a willing captive between two of his as he draws it into his lap. He settles his head back onto your shoulder. “Okay. You’re too nice to me.” 

“I’m not,” you say, before you can think the better of it. “You’re the nice one.” 

James only hums.

You swallow. “Goodnight.” 

You’re waiting for a response, the movie on your laptop just now getting to the scene where the love interests give in and confess their feelings for each other, when you feel a wet spot forming near the collar of your shirt. Slowly, careful not to jostle him, you tilt your head to look down at the source of the drool puddle. 

James already asleep.

#roommate!james #roommate!james potter #roommate!james x reader #james potter #james potter x reader #james potter x fem!reader #james potter x y/n #james potter x you #james potter x self insert #james potter fanfiction #james potter fanfic #james potter fic #james potter fluff #james potter imagine #james potter oneshot #james potter drabble #james potter one shot #james potter scenario #marauders #marauders era #the marauders #marauders fanfiction #marauders fanfic #marauders fic #the marauders era #marauders fandom #hp marauders

[theemporium]

cece! pls james potter post quidditch game shower smut. thinking about his sweaty pecs and big hands and thick thighs. ily, ty 🤠

god he makes me so😵‍��thank you for requesting!🖤

.

For most players, the second the final whistle blew and the game was over, they were hit with a wave of exhaustion that made them want to just kick back and relax and maybe enjoy some downtime with their friends.

Not your boyfriend though, he was anything but. 

The second the final whistle blew, it was like James took a hit that just sent pure, raw adrenaline coursing through his body until he was practically bouncing off the walls. Regardless of the outcome of the match itself, he was always buzzed and bouncing and ready to work off the extra energy before he joined the rest of his friends in celebrating. 

There had been many ways James learnt to deal with the extra energy. Maybe an extra half an hour or so on the broom after everyone else headed off to the locker rooms. Maybe doing a few laps of the quidditch pitch until his legs felt like jelly and he couldn’t run any longer. Maybe even trying to convince the other boys to take a last-minute gander through the woods with him if possible. 

However, he found far more enjoyable ways when he started dating you. 

You always thought James was dramatic about his post-match energy bursts but now—now you knew they were anything but a joke.

“Fuck, baby, I-I can’t!” 

The hot water was spraying down on your heated skin but you couldn’t bring yourself to care as your nails dug into your boyfriend’s back, your head falling back against the tiles of the locker room showers as he pounded into you.

He had been insatiable the second he got his hands on you after the game. First, in the supplies closet whilst all the players cooled down in the locker room. He had your hands in his hair and your thighs squeezing his ears and he could barely keep himself from coming in his trousers. Then, he had you against the lockers, cheek and tits pressed against the cool metal as he pounded in you from behind, mocking the way you whined and begged to kiss and claw at his sweaty, toned torso. You barely caught a glimpse of it before his chest was pressed against your back.

And now you were in the shower, his cock ramming into you and his arms straining as he practically fucked you like a toy. You could barely stand but James wasn’t done. He wanted you, he needed you, even if it meant bouncing you up and down on his cock like his own personal fleshlight. 

“One more f’me, baby,” he groaned, every muscle in his body straining as he held back his approaching orgasm. “Just one more. You just look so pretty, darling, it’s like winning the match all over again.” 

“James,” you whined, feeling the way he tensed as your nails raked down his skin before he let out a low moan that echoed through the empty showers around you. 

“That’s my girl, mark me up,” he growled, his eyes glued on the way your eager cunt took his cock, hitting deep with each thrust. “Want everyone to know who I belong to.” 

“Me,” you gasped out, holding onto him as tightly as you could. “You belong to me.” 

“I’m all yours,” James groaned, pressing your bodies close together as the sound of skin on skin bounced off the walls. “Gonna fuck you like I belong to you. Think I can get another few outta you, love. What do you say? Gonna let me fuck this pretty cunt like a winner? Gonna let me show you what being yours means?” 

“Please, Jamie,” you moaned, your eyes falling shut as your body jostled with each thrust of his hips. “Show me everything.” 

“Gonna show you the world, gorgeous.” 

He had you sprawled over the bench twice before you even left the locker rooms.

.

#james potter #marauders #harry potter #hp #james potter x reader #james potter x you #james potter x y/n #james potter fic #james potter oneshot #james potter smut #marauders x reader #marauders x you #marauders x y/n #marauders fic #marauders one shot #marauders smut #harry potter x reader #harry potter x you #harry potter x y/n #harry potter fic #harry potter one shot #harry potter smut #hp x reader #hp x you #hp x y/n #hp fic #hp one shot #hp smut

[crvptidgf]

Sharp Kisses

Mattheo Riddle x Reader (smut)

➸ summary: after begging Mattheo to mark you as his, he finally gives in

➸ warnings/notes: MAJOR TW & MDNI 18+, self-injury (ish), mentions of cutting & being cut, smut w/ little to no plot, p in v sex, heavy petting, oral (f! receiving), knifeplay?

➸ requested?: yes ↴ (i changed it up a bit in the fic)

- mattheo carves his name into reader’s upper thigh and one day she walks into his room and sees him coming out of the shower with her name cut on HIS ABS (requested by 💜 anon)

A/N: reader discretion is advised, i am not responsible for the media that you intake. i also do not condone any of the actions that are partaken in this, it is merely fiction. if you struggle with sh or self-destructive behaviors, please talk to someone. my inbox is always open!

word count: 1.2k

————————

GRABBING THE SHEETS harshly, your head was thrown back onto the pillows, breath uneven. There was a chance that your panting could be heard all the way down to the common room if it weren’t for the silencing charm put on the room.

Mattheo’s mouth was wrapped around you, his tongue flicking upwards, side-to-side, in circular motions. His movements were never-ending, not that you wanted him to stop. He pulled away momentarily, saliva connecting his mouth to your lips.

He only stared at you as he licked one long stripe upwards, collecting all your juices before diving back in. It wasn’t long before his soft hands began gripping the flesh of your thighs, practically suffocating himself between your legs. He picked up his pace, his moans reverberating into you as he reveled in your taste.

Your legs gave out, weakening under the feeling of your climax making it’s way up. Mattheo held onto you for dear life, supporting the weight of your limbs that rested on his shoulders. Once he was satisfied with the sight of you shaking under him, your hands pulling his head away from your sensitive area, he raised his head up.

He really never failed to pull your release from you.

You looked at him as you tried to catch your breath, trying not to pass out at the sight of his messed up hair and glistening chin. His lips were bright pink, the corners of them perking up upon making eye contact.

“You doing okay up there?” he mused as his breath fanned right over where he was previously buried.

“Mattheo,” you whined, “stop teasing.”

His hands rubbed soothing shapes into the back of your thighs which were hooked around his shoulder. Your pussy throbbed with every gust of air that hit you due to the quick breaths that Mattheo took. He continued to stare at you, not saying a word.

“You know,” you said, inhaling deeply as you tried to slow your heart rate, “it would be better if you used the knife on me.”

His breath fanned across your thighs as he sighed and pushed himself up, giving you a warning stare. “Love, we talked about this.”

“I know,” you practically groaned, “but can’t we try it. Just once? Maybe you’ll like it.”

Mattheo sat up fully now as he leaned over your face, his hands on either side of your head. He thought for a moment before he finally gave into your puppy-dog eyes.

“Fine. But if it’s too much, tell me to stop,” he said, his lips meeting your forehead in a hurried kiss.

The drawer beside your bed opened as he grabbed his wand, casting ‘Accio’ so he could get the dagger that you bought that rested on your desk across the room. You had been prepared for this, knowing that one day you would get to finally try out your fantasy.

Mattheo took a deep breath, asking if you were sure. Once he got a breathy ‘yes, please’ he began to slowly make work with you.

He knew how much you wanted this, and in all honesty so did he. What he was afraid of was doing too much, or causing you more pain than you could handle. He could never forgive himself if he out you in harms way.

Your breath hitched as the cold metal touched against your abdomen. It slowly travelled across your ribs, up your chest, and to your breasts. The tip of the knife touched the plump skin of your tit, and you shuddered with excitement as you closed your eyes.

“So good for me,” Mattheo whispered as he dragged the blade back down your body. He pushed it further than your pelvis, wanting to explore your thighs as he made his way down to your legs.

He pressed chaste, wet kisses along your inner thighs as he played with the blade a bit more, experimenting with how deep he could press it without causing any harm. Pulling it along your inner thigh, he added a slight pressure, causing a moan to ripple from your throat.

Now that he knew how much you enjoyed it, maybe he could get used to this.

“Mattheo,” you said, your moans mixing in with the call of his name. “Make me yours.”

He cocked his head to the side, confused. “But you are mine, baby.”

You lifted your head to look at him, lust filling every corner of your eyes.

“Write your name into me,” you breathed out.

Mattheo’s head shot up. He definitely did not expect to hear that. Of course, the thought aroused him more than it should’ve, but he was also nervous. You were putting a lot of trust into him and he didn’t want to break it. For you, though, he would do anything.

“Fuck,” he muttered through gritted teeth. This was way more erotic than he had imagined.

He slid the blunt edge of the dagger across your clit before bringing the tip to the other side of your thigh. “Okay,” he said, “but-“

“If it’s too much, i’ll tell you to stop,” you nodded, your head already falling back onto the pillows.

Mattheo kissed soft, quick kisses along your pussy, teasing you before diving straight in. His tongue was slow and meticulous, licking across the most sensitive parts of you which he knew like the back of his hand.

You felt the knife begin to slice through your skin - not enough to leave a scar, but enough that you would be marked up for a few days. The thought that only you and him would be able to see it send a strong pulse throughout your pussy.

Mattheo smiled into you, his eyes peeking to the side to make sure he wasn’t cutting too deep. He pulled away from you for a second to lick into your entrance before coming back up to suck on you.

The feeling of his lips wrapped around, combined with the sharp tip of the knife was sending you over the edge. You tried to guess what letter he was on now, but you couldn’t focus if you even tried.

Your mewls and pants were all that could be heard in the room. Mattheo looked up again, his hand curving so that he could make the ‘o’ at the end of his name.

His hand came to replace his mouth as he drew circles onto your sensitive nub.

Mattheo’s tongue swiped against the new cut, your blood coating his tongue as he licked it up. Your injury was starting to hurt a bit, but with Mattheo’s saliva entering the mix, it soothed the pain slightly.

It wasn’t long before your orgasm overtook you, and you were a mumbling, idiotic mess under him.

Shit, he should’ve just done this a long time ago.

- - - - -

You were now bouncing up and down Mattheo’s length, his fingertips gripping into your hipbones as he held you in place, his hips coming up to meet with yours. He fucked up into you, his mind reeling with pleasure before an idea popped into his head.

It had been a week since the first used the knife on you, and he was curious.

“Cut your name into me,” he said, his breaths heavy as he stared at you with half-lidded eyes.

You rolled your head back, his demand causing you to feel a certain way that you had never felt before. He had never sounded hotter than he did right now.

“Where,” you gasped as his dick hit the perfect spot inside of you.

Mattheo’s hands gripped your hips as he grinded you on top of him now, halting your bouncy movements. “My abs. I know how much you love them, baby.”

- - - - -

#mattheo riddle headcanon #mattheo riddle smut #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo x reader #mattheo riddle fluff #mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle imagine #mattheo riddle fanfic #mattheo riddle scenarios #mattheo riddle x you #hp fanfic #harry potter imagines #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter fanfic #harry potter fancast #harry potter fandom #harry potter oneshot

[slytherweasley]

Late (poly marauders x reader)

Warnings: swearing, smut, oral, penetration, unprotected sex, shower sex, dirty talk

Summary: the marauders are known for being late because of their needs constantly being fulfilled.

(Thank you so much for 5k)

You always ended up being late no matter where you would go. People started noticing when you would be early or on time rather than when you were late. You never had a problem with it before you were dating your three boyfriends.

Now you had to satisfy the needs of your three teenage boyfriends who are constantly horny and their needs make you needy. The weekends are usually spent in their dorm fucking all day long.

You started getting ready for school and other commitments earlier however it didn’t fix the problem. You’d get in the shower in the morning and Remus would meet you in there.

“Morning baby” he says undressing and getting into the shower with you. “Morning Rem” you press a kiss to his lips and shortly after your greetings you’d be pressed up against the shower wall as Remus pounds into you.

It was almost a daily ritual.

“Fuck right there” you wrap your legs tighter around his torso as he brings you both closer to your orgasm. “Such a good girl” he groans into your ear sending you over the edge and finishing around him.

He finishes inside you, cleans you up and you’re both ready for the day until your other two boyfriends wake up. “Y/n” James whines, you cuddle up next to him “morning Jamie” you press a kiss to his forehead “you’re so pretty” he compliments.

You could already feel how hard he was. “You want me to suck your cock?” You ask and press a kiss to his cheek “yes, yes I do please” he begs.

You pull down his pyjama pants letting his cock free and waste no time in sucking him off. Sirius gets up “fuck this is hot” he says. He gets onto the bed and lifts up your skirt pulling down your underwear.

James’s moans make you incredibly wet as Sirius discovers. “Baby, you’re so fucking wet, I just want to help you” you take your lips off James’s cock “Siri, please eat me out” James whines at the cold air hitting his cock.

You move your mouth back onto his cock and Sirius eats you out from behind. Remus watches from his bed jerking off to the three of you.

James groans each time you moan around his cock. “I’m close” he warns and finishes in your mouth. Sirius flips you over so you’re laying beside James allowing him better access to your pussy.

James joins Sirius in eating you out, his tongue teases your entrance. Remus joins the three of you and pressed kisses to your face and neck.

You hold onto Remus’s hand as you finish. The boys clean you up and fix your uniform as you calm down after the intense high.

Once the four of you are ready you make it to the end of breakfast grabbing whatever is left and quickly eating it on the way to your next class.

After your first class of the day, Sirius met you outside your class and walked you to your next class with him. You are potions partners which meant Sirius could be close to you, he rested his hand on your thigh and you knew he had a motive.

His hand slowly crept up your thigh until he was circling your clit over your underwear. You looked at him as you tried not to make a sound. Your hand moves to his bulge massaging his semi hard cock.

As soon as you were dismissed you made your way to the closest broom closet. Sirius casts a silencing spell and pulls your underwear down. You help him unbutton his constricted pants and underwear letting his cock free.

He pushes you up against the wall and shoves himself inside you immediately pounding inside you. You were both the vocal ones in your relationship. Sirius grunts and groans keeping his hands securely around your waist muttering filthy words into your ear.

“So tight, just want to fill you up with my cock.” “Stretching out that tight little pussy.” You moan and squeeze around him.

He fucks into your a couple more times. “Fuck so wet” he cries out “so good” you moan. “Gonna pull out and cum in your mouth baby, ok?” You nod. He pulls out and you bring your mouth to his cock as he finishes and you swallow it all.

He helps you put your underwear on and fixes your skirt “thank you” you say your head still foggy and submissive “No baby, thank you. You’re too good to me” he presses a kiss to your forehead.

Sirius walks you to your class pressing a kiss on your lips before you walk in late and sit next to Remus. “At least one of you was on time today” your professor says,

Remus already could tell you’d been fucked. “Sirius?” He questions you “yeah, like 2 minutes ago” you could tell by Remus’s tone and body language he was a bit jealous he didn’t get to join in.

From then to the end of the day you’d met up with Remus to suck him off in an empty hallway and James had eaten you out in a broom closet.

You never seemed to tire of their neediness. It made you feel loved and wanted.

Both you and James always had the last class off on a Thursday. You met in his dorm, he was already in and excited to see you, he meets you with a kiss and starts undressing.

“In a rush Jamie?” You ask “I need to you to ride me” “It’s okay I will.” James undresses you down to your underwear, your lips connect with his as the two of you desperately hunger for each other.

“I need to be inside you” James mumbles against your lips quickly before pressing his lips to yours once again. You tug on James’ hair, he moans into the kiss.

You finally give in to him and start to unclasp your bra and pull off your underwear. James sits up getting undressed and waits for you with his cock hard and painful.

You straddle him lining him up with your entrance, you both give each other a meaningful look of anticipation. You sink down onto his cock, you both moan at the feeling.

You move up and down until you find the perfect pace that fills the room up with your moans and the sound of your skin meeting as you ride him. Your hips move up and down and side to side making yourself feel good on his cock.

The door swings open, Sirius and Remus walk in. “Fuck me” Sirius drops his bag and walks over to the bed “Is Jamie being a good boy for you, darling?” Remus asks “yes so good” you don’t stop the pace until you feel yourself getting close.

Sirius touches you all over placing kisses on your jaw and neck while Remus holds your hand. “Fuck I’m almost there” you let your hips move at a fast pace moving in every direction that makes you feel good. You look over at James as he looks infatuated with you, you can tell he is close.

“Jamie, you don’t cum until I do” he nods. He concentrates on not finishing. You feel yourself getting closer, the boys can tell you’re almost there. “Good girl” Remus presses a kiss to your cheek “cum for us sweetheart” Sirius encourages.

You squeeze around James and finish around him, seconds later you feel James finish inside you.

You cuddle up next to James while Remus cleans you up. You feel your eyes getting heavier as you drift off to sleep.

#harry potter #hp imagine #smut #marauders fic #marauders smut #marauders fluff #poly!marauders smut #poly!marauders fluff #james potter smut #remus lupin smut #sirius black smut #sirius black x james potter #sirius black x james potter smut #marauders era smut #marauders era fluff #marauders imagine #poly marauders #marauders x reader #marauders fanfiction #marauders oneshot #marauders smut oneshot

[zriasstuff]

Way too close-Theodore Nott x reader

Forced proximity between Theodore Nott and fem!reader (2k words)

Some tension needs to be resolved… (not 18+ content though, this is SFW)

If someone would have told you earlier today, that if you went to tonight’s Slytherin party you’d be stuck in an old closet with the Theodore Nott later on, you’d have never went.

But here you were, stuck beside Theo in an old closet used for storing rags and brooms, which smelled extremely unpleasant. You could practically feel a broom stabbing you in the back, but you didn’t want to move because you’d have to get closer to Theo in the process. He was facing you at the moment, but you weren’t looking him the eyes, instead you stared at the dusty closet floor.

It’s not that you absolutely hated Theo, although he hasn’t been exactly the nicest to you in the past. He always believed that he was entitled to do whatever he wanted without thinking about the consequences, especially the ones that would be inflicted on other people.

You remembered that a year ago, there was this huge rumor that your boyfriend at that time had made out with another girl. It wasn’t true though, and Theo had been the one that spread that lie. You guys broke up anyway, you just weren’t meant for each other, but that doesn’t take away from the fact that Theo had put a huge dent in your relationship and had made you feel so extremely humiliated.

It was a thing of the past, you moved on, but something about him still made you feel uneasy. And besides, he just had this overall intimidating, dark aura around him, as if he’d start a fight with you any second. Perhaps it’s just the way some people are.

You had originally thought that he’d refuse to spend 7 minutes in heaven with you, when the spinning bottle had landed on you, but to your surprise he was quite alright with it. Maybe not happy, definitely not unhappy though.

“What are you thinking about”, he asks you, disrupting the silence that had lasted for a solid minute already, while curiously looking down on you.

“Nothing, really”, you reply.

“Well you look like you got a stick up your ass, what’s with your weird posture?”

Rude. Were you really standing that crookedly, you ask yourself.

“If you must know, there’s this broom digging into my backside and I can’t stand properly without…”, you go silent, hesitating to name him the reason. Why would you, it would only be another six minutes.

“Without what?”, he further questions you in a demanding tone.

“…without practically leaning onto you” Fuck, you said it, and you knew you were blushing so hard right now. Why had you even said that? It was not like it made the awkwardness better. Luckily, darkness surrounded you, masking your intense blushing. What would he say now? You couldn’t possibly imagine a response.

“Then I guess I don’t want you to be uncomfortable now, do I?”

What the hell was that supposed to mean? Was he being sarcastic? He certainly looked serious.

“What are you waiting for, move”

You definitely did not know where this was going, but after a bit of hesitation, you decided to do it, since he was so insistent. Although you were still confused on why he was so comfortable with having you lean on him. You think probably because he’s used to having girls all around him.

Moments later, finally lean onto him, pressing your body closely against his. Faces only inches away from touching. The warmth of his body immediately spreads to you, and you feel his breath on your skin. There was this awfully weird tingle going through your entire body.

His intense stare stuns you so much, that you feel your knees going soft for a second. It’s like you couldn’t focus on anything else besides his electric touch, it made you melt. Meanwhile, you also realize you’d never been this close to any guy before, ever. Maybe this wasn’t so bad after all…

“Better?”

“Yeah, thanks”, you dryly reply.

This could be nice, you start to think to yourself. Perhaps you could start some small talk with him, to make the position you were in less full of tension.

“So-”

“So, do you wanna make out now?”

WHAT. What the hell, that came out of absolutely nowhere, and your mind starts to spin. Making out with Theodore Nott after just 3 minutes of talking ? Why in the hell would he even suggest that? He must be out of his mind.

He barely knew you, and now he wanted to make out? So many questions were circling your head, but not a single, coherent response left your mouth.

“uhm- wha, what?”, was all that escaped your mouth in a stuttering manner. It was all you could come up with.

“Clearly, you are not very experienced with party games, so let me explain“, he just so nonchalantly says. “Seven minutes of heaven is for making out. And it doesn’t hurt when the person you’re stuck with is really hot. So, since you’re more comfortable now, can we make out?”

He really had no sense of shame you thought to yourself.

All that left his mouth so matter of factly, that you barely had time to process what he said. Did he just call you hot? Not that you had much more time to overthink it because his lips smashed against yours already.

He used one hand to hold your waist, to keep you close to him, and the other to grab your head. Every single one of his touches sent electric waves through your body, and the kiss itself was so unexpected, yet so gentle. He knew exactly how to make you feel good, and his lips were so soft and they intertwined with yours in such a magical way. It ignited a growing desire in you, that you also clung onto him tighter, wrapping your arms around his neck. Every aspect of this made you want to get even closer to him, but no.

He can’t just do this all of a sudden. You barely know him, besides from the thing he did to you in the past. Plus, this was such an intimate moment, and there was no way you were going to experience it in a dusty closet, so you pull back, as much as you want to continue locking lips with him.

“What do you think you’re doing?”, you flip the mood around 180 degrees. That may have sounded ruder than you’d expected, which you didn’t mean to. But you still had to confront him.

“Listen, I know you make out with like 10 girls a week, and this game may be an excuse for you to make out with another one, but I barely know you, and the things that I do know of you aren’t exactly nice”.

There, you’d confronted him, the most intimidating person you know. Seems like you were still pretty hurt by what he did, even if you told yourself it didn’t affect you all that much anymore.

“Playing hard to get huh?”, he raises an eyebrow at you while saying that. “You know, seconds ago, if I recall correctly, you seemed to enjoy the kiss a lot too. And now you wanna act like I forced myself on you, so what’s up with that?”

He was right, you did enjoy it too. It wasn’t fair to blame him completely. What if you had just shut up and enjoyed the kiss? There was no turning back though at this point.

“You’re right, I shouldn’t just pretend the kiss was all you. But I meant the part about you not being such a nice person”, you correct yourself.

“Now, what’s not nice about me?” He asked that in an accusatory tone, but he actually looked genuinely interested.

“Do you not remember what you did to me a few months back?”, you had hoped he would have some sort of memory about that.

“I barely remember what I do during any day, so no. I swear I’ll make it up to you though”, he replied honestly.

“You spread a rumor about my ex cheating on me, which wasn’t true by the way, never apologized, made me feel humiliated for days, and now you want to make out?” When you hear yourself speak those words, it really just made the situation seem even worse.

After not blinking and thinking for a few seconds Theo comes up with something and says “I didn’t realize it was that hurtful, but you gotta know do a lot of stupid stuff”

“I still don’t hear an apology”, you clap back, “and you doing stupid stuff often isn’t an excuse to be a bad person, maybe you should just quit doing stupid stuff.” What came out of Theos mouth was the lamest excuse you have ever heard, and he deserved to be knocked down a peg.

“So you’re seriously not gonna make out with me?”, he asks, sounding almost annoyed.

You didn’t think he could be any more of an asshole than he already was, but here you go. Theo wasn’t even worthy of a reply, so you just rolled your eyes.

At this point 7 minutes must’ve already passed you think because there was no way that 7 minutes were this long. You raise your arm to knock on the closet door, to signal to someone to unlock it, but before you could, Theo stops you in your tracks.

“Wait, wait, wait”, he said while holding onto your wrist, “I’m sorry, I know I come off as a jerk right now and most of the time too, but I do like you and want to make it up to you for having hurt you in the past.”

Even though he sounded halfway genuine, you didn’t fully believe he was sincerely sorry. He had also just completely changed within seconds. You just wanted to get out now, forget everything that happened, but there was no way of avoiding his gaze, that was scanning you right now for an answer.

“And how will you do that?”, you challenge him, to see if he really means it. It would be nice if he did make it up to you after all this time. Better late than never you think. You just didn’t want him to play a stupid trick on you instead.

Theo takes some time to think about his answer again. In the end he replied with “I’ll take you on a nice date.” He sounded way too cheeky saying that.

“That’s kind of selfish don’t you think, I don't believe a simple date will make it up to me”, you retorted at his proposal. Not that you wouldn’t enjoy it, the amazing kiss was still on your mind. When you thought of it, it made your stomach all fuzzy again. You just wanted him to be genuinely apologetic.

When you looked at him again, he was smiling for some odd reason. He countered with “Well, how do you know that it won’t make it up to you, if you don’t even give it a try?”, he did have you there. Perhaps it was his cheeky, yet charming smile, or the kiss, but you saw his point. There was no way of knowing before actually giving him a shot at redeeming himself. Theo continued smiling and he knew that he had somehow convinced you.

To give him a date wouldn’t be the end of the world, so what’s the point of making it more complicated than it is.

He was still patiently waiting for an answer, so at last, you gave him the satisfaction and agreed to a date. It was a huge relief on both of your sides, and you could hopefully finally put the past to rest after the date.

After a bit of more talking and banter, someone finally unlocked the closet doors and apologized for having forgotten all about you. Theo chuckles and flashes a grin at you before saying “Don’t be sorry, I thank you.”

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[cutielando]

my lifeline ~ mattheo riddle

Summary: You are Mattheo’s lifeline, his one ray of sunshine in the darkness that is his life. A cute little breakdown of how your relationship to the Slytherin bad boy began.

Other works: my masterlist

♡♡♡♡♡

Mattheo had always had it rough.

Being the son of the Dark Lord brought enough complications to his life, let alone being at school with people who only made fun of him because of that.

It wasn’t fair. Nothing about his life seemed fair, but he had no choice about it. He couldn’t change who he was, no matter how much he wanted to.

But he could change the way he viewed himself.

And he did. 

From the moment you had entered his life.

You transfering to Hogwarts from Beauxbatons had probably been the best thing that had ever happened to him.

Watching you timidly walk towards the Sorting Hat, anxiously waiting for it to speak and tell you which house you would join, seeing the sweet smile you had given the Slytherins once you joined them at their table and just so happened to have been sitting right across from him.

He knew, from the moment you had looked at him with your bright eyes, that he was a goner.

Over the course of your first weeks at the school, Mattheo had been the one to welcome you the best, always offering to show you around the castle, help you study or simply just keep you company while you would do homework together.

Pansy had also become your friend, very eager to have another girl in the friend group.

Pansy was also the first person to find out about your crush on the curly haired bad boy. 

It didn’t come as a surprise, really. With the amount of time you had been spending together ever since you came to the school, the countless walks you had been on with him when the both of you had free time, the charming smiles he would give you whenever he would look at you.

He had you mesmerized and he didn’t even realize.

The holidays had proved to be the perfect opportunity for Mattheo to finally tell you what he was feeling, right before you left for home.

“Y/N!” he had called out for you as you were struggling to carry your luggage down the countless pairs of stairs towards the castle entrance.

You turned around, a smile immediately appearing on your kind face. The kind of smile that made the butterflies in Mattheo’s stomach go crazy.

“Hey, Mattheo. I was just about to leave for the train, I didn’t want to be late” you explained, gesturing towards your trunk.

You didn’t know if you should have said anything else, knowing that his father and him probably didn’t want to have anything to do with each other and he had no reason to want to go home for the holidays.

“I know, and I wanted to catch you just before you left. I wanted to tell you something that I’ve been putting off for the entire semester” he said, scratching the back of his neck.

You nodded, signaling that you were listening. 

He let out a breath before speaking up once again.

“I like you, a lot. Ever since you transferred here, you’ve been on my mind. I’ve come to look forward to every minute that I get to spend with you, regardless of what we do. I just wanted to know if you would like to go on a date with me once you get back?” he asked, making you smile.

All the daydreams about what it would be like to be with him, to know that he was just yours, they were finally going to happen after so much lost time.

“Your timing really sucks” you joked, making him blush and nod. “But my answer is yes” you added before quickly leaning up to kiss his cheek and left.

Unbeknownst to you, the moment you had turned around and couldn’t see him anymore, he fist-bumped the air and did a little happy dance, being sure that nobody would see him and tarnish his bad boy reputation.

Typical.

During the time you spent away, you guys exchanged several letters, in most of them Mattheo was complaining about how slow the time was passing and how eager he was to see you again and take you out.

Which he did, the hour right after you had got back to Hogwarts. 

Your date had been amazing, sipping your favorite warm drinks at the Three Broomsticks, browsing around your favorite shops in Hogsmeade, and then finally ending with a goodnight kiss right at the bottom of the stairs leading to your bedroom.

The news that you had become a couple spread around as quickly as a disease would. Gossip traveled very fast around a school full of teenagers, especially when it involved someone with a reputation like Mattheo.

Being seen together in front of the whole school had been something you were weary of, ever since he had asked you out; mainly because it was no news that your now boyfriend was a very handsome lad, and a good number of the girls from every house had a thing for him.

Imagine now, with him dating you, it had automatically put a big target on your back.

But not to worry, Mattheo was there for you.

“People are staring” you told him on the morning of your first breakfast together as a couple, a day after everyone had got back from holiday.

“So? Let them stare, I don’t care” he said, shrugging his shoulders and pulling you closer to him.

You gulped, noticing more and more girls whispering and looking at you over their shoulders, frantically it was more like glaring deep into your soul.

“Easy for you to say, you don’t have the entire female population of this castle hoping your head would explode so they can take your place” you had meant for it to sound like a joke in order to not worry Mattheo, but he had seen right through it.

Following your gaze, he had noticed just how much attention there was on you that morning. He cleared his throat, glaring at every single girl right back, which then prompted them to blush and turn away from you guys.

“Don’t worry about other people, they know nothing about us and they’re just jealous” he whispered to you, planting a kiss on your temple in comfort.

You knew that he was right, that you just had to drown everyone out and just focus on Mattheo and what you had.

And that was exactly what you did.

Months went by very quickly, making your relationship with Mattheo only blossom more and more with each passing day. The love shared between you was more intense than anything either of you had experienced before.

You two helped each other, motivated and encouraged one another. You helped him deal with his problems, listened to him whenever he needed to unwind and just talk to someone about his home, about what his childhood was like and what being Voldemort’s son had done to him.

You slowly helped him out of his shell, making him open to you more and more each passing day, making sure he was comfortable whenever he was around you and always made sure he was okay, no matter where you were or what the circumstances were.

You became what he needed, his savior. 

A lifeline to pull him back to reality when he would need it the most, whenever he would feel like he was about to fall off the edge.

You were his life.

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[dreamcubed]

more than a woman 2 | oliver wood x reader

song; more than a woman [bee gees] pairing; oliver wood x fem!ravenclaw!reader genre; established relationship, long distance(ish), fluff, light angst word count; 3,1k timeline; goblet of fire —> order of the phoenix warnings; swearing, relationship insecurities, one argument (gets resolved) summary; you were forced to endure one year of hogwarts without your beloved oliver, so how would that affect your relationship?

masterlist

parts: || one | two ||

“more than a woman to me.”

———————————————

Honestly, it was a good thing that Oliver wasn't at school for the Triwizard Tournament: Merlin knows you wouldn't have heard the end of him complaining about quidditch being cancelled. Still, you missed him, and it was certainly strange not hearing quidditch even mentioned once.

In the one and a half years that you had been together, the marriage joke had persisted, primarily thanks to the relentless Weasley twins. You figured your husband being long distance would be easier to deal with due to the mass amounts of work that NEWTs required. Obviously, you expected yourself to achieve good grades: you weren't a Ravenclaw for nothing. But good grades in the Nastily Exhausting Wizarding Tests were difficult for even the most intelligent of people.

"Poor you," Chloe mocked at dinner during the first week of seventh year, "How will you ever survive without your other half?"

"Fuck off, Smith," you chided, scooping pasta on to your plate, "At least I have another half."

She rolled her eyes at you.

"You seeing him at Christmas?"

"I doubt it," you sighed, "I still want to see my family and his schedule is pretty packed."

"That's what you get for marrying a quidditch athlete."

You didn't bother correcting anyone anymore, and honestly, you didn't want to.

***

A weekly letter via owl was nothing compared to Oliver Wood in the flesh: you felt as if you had been starved all year of the one person you wanted to see the most. If only his quidditch team allowed enough free time for him to visit Hogsmeade so you could meet up, but it didn't, so you had been deprived.

You couldn't help but grow anxious as the Hogwarts Express grew closer to Platform Nine and Three Quarters, even thought Chloe said everything she could to reassure you.

What if he had fallen out of love in your time apart?

What if he wouldn't be excited to see you?

Sure, his letters to you over the last few weeks had contained nothing but enthusiasm over your coming reunion, but you couldn't help but wonder if he was waiting to break it to you in person.

The train came to a halt.

"Y/N, Y/N," Chloe said firmly, "There is no universe in which that man could fall out of love with you. Trust me, you mean more to him than quidditch."

"But, what if-"

"Look, there he is," she cut you off, pointing out the window at the man stood on the platform amongst the parents. One of his hands held a bouquet of fresh red roses, while the other hung at his side with the fingers playing nervously with each other.

Then, his eyes locked with yours, and all your worries melted away as your lips stretched into a massive grin. You ran out of the compartment and began shoving past people to get to the exit, almost barrelling into the conductor as you jumped on to the platform.

Oliver stood watching you with his grin matching yours, already opening his arms in preparation for what was about to happen. You jumped into them, almost knocking him over with the force in which you did it. You kissed him with the same force, like you had wanted to do for the last year so very desperately.

"I've missed you so much, lass," he said through heavy breaths after your kiss ended, "I've been going insane."

"I've missed you too," you replied, tightening your hold around him even more, "Have you gotten stronger?" You felt his bicep.

He gave you another toothy smile, "Aye. Didn't have a choice, the training regime is strict."

"Good to see you back with your husband," you heard Chloe say, and turned to see her pulling along not just her trunk, but yours as well.

"Ah, about that," Oliver said, dropping you from his hold and taking your trunk from Chloe, "It's about time we made it official, don't you think?"

Shock formed on your face.

"Don't look so surprised, lass, I've already waited two and a half years."

"Godric, this is so romantic," Chloe said sarcastically, making you roll your eyes at her. "Seriously, not even a ring."

"Ah ah ah," Oliver smirked, digging around in his pocket before pulling out a black velvet box.

"Get down on one knee in public and I will slaughter you," you quickly said, "Please don't bring attention to us."

He laughed, "Relax, relax, I won't. Here," he opened the box and presented it to you, "Will you officially become my wife, lass?"

You nodded, darting forward to wrap your arms around his chest again. "Of course I will, you stupid fucking quidditch man."

He smiled wider than you knew possible.

***

"This is my- our- flat," he said, presenting the space to you, "Obviously if you don't like it, we can move, but it's where I've been for a year."

"I like it," you said, "Although I want to make it less yours and more ours."

He nodded, "Do whatever you want with it, I'm not home much."

"Will I still not get to see you that often?" you slightly pouted.

Oliver pulled you in for a kiss, "I will be home as much as I can, lass, but professional quidditch is very demanding."

You had known that this was how life with Oliver would be, but it still made you sad.

"We need to tell our parents about the engagement," you changed the subject.

"They've been treating us like we're married for years," he chuckled, "So have our friends."

"Still, we should tell them, your mother hasn't stopped going on about me being her daughter-in-law as soon as possible in all the letters she's sent me."

"You talk to my mum?"

"Yes, Ollie, I talk to your mum. Believe it or not, I want to a foster a good relationship with my future mother-in-law."

"My priorities lie with my future nan-in-law."

"You thirsting over my nan?"

"Perhaps."

You scoffed, "Can't believe I've been replaced by an old hipster."

"Don't talk about Grace like that!"

You both broke out in laughter.

"Godric, I've missed you, lass," he sighed, "Never be away from me for that long again."

"Trust me, I don't plan on it."

***

It was difficult at first, living with Oliver and his jam-packed quidditch schedule, and there were many nights where you ate alone in front of the muggle television you had insisted on installing. But, as time faded away, you got used to it - it wasn't like Oliver was neglecting you, after all. On his days off, mornings off, nights off, etc., he would spend every waking second doting over you. Plus, on his full working days, when he got back so late you were already in bed, you couldn't help but relish in how he snuggled up to you immediately and muttered, "I love you so much," even though he was under the impression you were asleep.

The wedding planning took up a lot of your shared free time, despite the fact you were only planning on a small ceremony in his parents' garden. There were still the caterers, the dress, the suit, the cake, the rings, and so much more to sort out. It was stressful, yet you enjoyed it, as it meant furthering your relationship with Oliver.

You couldn't live without him.

***

You stared at the cold plates of food on the table, the steam that had been billowing off them having long disappeared along with your excitement. A heat retaining spell would have been easy, but for some reason that felt like giving in - to what, you didn't know. Instead, you sat in the corner of the room, on the floor, fiddling with your engagement ring. You wish you could say that you weren't crying.

It's just that - Oliver had promised that he would be home for dinner by six, he had sworn. The clock in the kitchen was ticking past eight and there was still not even a word from him.

Part of you was worried: what it something had happened to him?

Part of you was angry: he couldn't even let you know that he was running late?

Part of you was fed up: you should have expected this outcome.

The door opened, but you didn't look towards the man entering.

"Hey, love, I'm really sorry I'm late."

You didn't reply.

"Love?" he looked around, as he had spoken assuming you were in the main room - which you were, but hidden from his view. Once he walked past the table to head to the bedroom, you appeared in his peripheral, and he then quickly moved towards you.

You refused to look at him.

"Lass, please, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to worry you."

"Why?"

He hummed in confusion.

"Why were you late?"

"Coach changed his mind about the evening off 'cause we have a last-minute practice match this weekend."

"He shouldn't be allowed to do that."

"I know, but-"

"Did all your teammates just accept it? Let it happen?"

"Well, no, I suppose Rodnickel did leave-"

"Why didn't you then?"

Oliver sighed, "Rodnickel had to get home to his two small kids who would've been unsupervised otherwise."

"You had to get home to me." You were aware you were being a bit unreasonable, but you were exhausted.

He pressed a kiss to your forehead, "Believe me, I wish coach saw that as a good enough excuse."

You sighed, admitting defeat.

"So, what did my gorgeous fiancée make for dinner?"

"It's cold now," you mumbled.

"Nothing a little magic can't fix," he winked at you, pulling out his wand to cast a reheating spell. Once steam was billowing off the delicacies once more, Oliver breathed in deeply through his nose and exclaimed, "Smells delicious, my love."

He pulled out your chair for you.

Fuck, you couldn't stay mad at him long.

***

In your opinion, the cosy cottage that Oliver had grown up in had been the obvious choice for the wedding location: it provided a beautiful view of the Scottish countryside. Therefore, you found yourself getting ready in the guest bedroom of the house, with your grandmother delicately fixing your hair. Not too long ago, Chloe had left the room after finishing the final touches of your makeup to get dressed herself, and ever since you had been sat in silence with your grandmother.

"Getting cold feet?" she asked, breaking the ten-minute silence.

You shook your head. Not in the slightest.

"I wish I'd been that sure on my wedding day."

You met her eyes through the mirror opposite you.

"But, no, you have no reason to be nervous. Oliver is a fine young man, and he loves you a whole lot."

A smile tugged at the corners of your lips. "It's weird," you finally spoke, "People make out getting married as being such a big deal, but this feels like the most natural thing in the world."

"That's because too many obsess over the rosy idea of getting married and starting a family, without thinking too much about who they're doing that with."

"You think they just settle with the first person who's up for it with them?"

"Yes and no. I do think most spend some time on choice, but at the end of the day, a lot of people jump at the opportunity of marriage when they reach a certain age."

You hummed, "Do you think we're rushing?"

Grace inhaled deeply, leaving a moment of consideration before saying, "No, I don't. You two still wanted each other after living long distance for a year, I think you both know what you're ready for."

Relieved to hear that, you fully grinned, "Thanks, nan," you checked the clock, "The ceremony starts soon, you need to finish getting ready."

"Yes, yes," she dismissed you with a wave of her hand, "I'll see you out there - you look absolutely gorgeous, my love."

You beamed.

***

Rowena, how did Oliver get to be so handsome? You were physically incapable of getting the smile off your face as you raked your eyes over his features: reaching the altar just wouldn't come quick enough.

But eventually you got there.

You passed the bouquet off to Chloe - your maid of honour - before assuming the position opposite Oliver. Briefly, you glanced at the audience of family and friends, and felt nerves ripple within you. They disappeared when your eyes met with your fiancé's, however, and somehow your grin grew even wider.

He looked gorgeous dressed up in the afternoon sun, and he was thinking the exact same about you. It was all you could think about as the wedding officiant began the introductions of the ceremony; you were a nervous wreck thinking about the vows you had so carefully crafted and rehearsed.

Oliver's were to be first.

"As I'm sure you know, quidditch is one of the biggest prides and joys of my life - I don't know who or what I'd be without it. What you may not know is that I'm most grateful to quidditch not for the masses of entertainment it provides me, but for the fact it's how I started talking to you, lass. From the day you insisted on connecting me with one of my role models, I've been undeniably attached to you. I never told you back then, but I think I fell in love with you the moment you first spoke to me - I mean who can blame me? Look at you."

Your heart was racing and you knew you must have looked flustered.

"It wasn't just your appearance, though. Right from the beginning, you've always spoken with such passion, even back when you were shy around me. I know all too well about passion, of course, and I knew it meant that there would never be dull moment around you. And, look, we're three years down the line now, and that prediction is yet to be proved wrong - you're still much more than a woman to me. I can't wait to never prove it wrong during the rest of our lives together. I love you so much, lass, I'm so happy you're now my wife."

The audience applauded his heartfelt words, and as you prepared yourself to say yours, you felt him warmly squeeze your shaking hands.

"Rowena, I- I don't know how to beat that," you began, steadying your voice as you spoke, "You know I had a crush on you long before we even had our first conversation, but I don't think you know how quickly it became love after we did start talking. Merlin knows I wasn't the only one who fancied you, I was far from special in that sense, but I felt special when we played quidditch one-on-one together for the first time. I'd never played it before then, which is surprising to a lot of people, I know, considering who my grandmother is. Truth is, I was always terrified of the sport, yet when it was you asking me I had very little hesitation about throwing my nerves away."

Oliver's face had flushed a light pink.

"And only you can do that to me - make me fearless, that is. Back then it was always more in a 'I can't pass up this opportunity with my crush' kind of way, but nowadays it's more in a 'you give me strength' kind of way, as cheesy as it sounds and as much as I feel weird for saying it. I guess that's what vows are about, though. I love you more than anything, Oliver, I always have and I always will."

As your words finished, the audience began clapping once more.

"So then, do you, Oliver Wood, take Y/N L/N to be your lawfully wedded wife, and promise to care for her, in sickness and in health, until death do you part?"

He didn't hesitate. "I do."

"And do you, Y/N L/N, take Oliver Wood to be your lawfully wedded husband, and promise to care for him, in sickness and in health, until death do you part?"

"I do." The words didn't feel real: nothing in that moment did. You were struggling to grasp on to reality as you pushed the rings on to each other's fingers.

"Then I now pronounce you husband and wife! You may kiss the bride."

Oliver's lips were on yours in milliseconds, the sweet feeling like honey that you were so familiar with encompassing you. His arms tightened around you as the audience stood up and began cheering, filling you with an unmistakable sense of embarrassment.

But, you know what?

It didn't matter, because you were now married to Oliver - officially.

***

The clinking sound of cutlery against glass echoed amongst the tables, bringing everyone's attention to Chloe, who was sat near your side.

"If I may have everyone's attention, please, I'd like to make a toast to the bride and groom."

Eyes stared at her expectantly.

"I've known Y/N since the very first train ride we took to Hogwarts," she began, "Meaning I've had to hear her going on about Oliver a lot longer than the rest of you."

The typical laughs came in response.

"And Godric knows did she use me to get near him all the time - I can't exactly complain though, as she obviously knew what she was doing. Now, I don't know how many of you are familiar with this, but ever since before they were dating, there's been a running joke that they were already married, so, really, today changes nothing."

Again, laughter.

"I'm kidding, I'm kidding - it truly is wonderful to get to celebrate my best friend and ex-quidditch captain's happiness, even if it means being forced to watch them kiss. I love you both, and I wish you a great marriage."

The tables boomed with applause as you smiled your thanks at Chloe, truly feeling as if you couldn't get any happier than that moment. You felt Oliver's hand gripping yours from under the table, and so you turned to look at him to see that his gaze was already on you.

"Hi," you said softly.

"Hi," he replied, grinning whilst his eyes flickered to your lips.

"Uh uh, keep it in your pants til tonight, mister."

He sighed dramatically, "You're lucky I love you."

You chuckled, "I think you'll find that you're lucky I love you."

———————————————

parts: || one | two ||

masterlist

written; 28/09/2022 —> 29/10/2022 published; 29/10/2022 edited; —/—/——

taglist; @workinatdapyramid  @iluvweasleys

#oliver wood #oliver wood x reader #oliver wood x you #oliver wood x y/n #ravenclaw reader #light angst #fluff #established relationship #hp oneshot #hp #hp oneshots #harry potter #harry potter oneshot #oliver wood oneshot #hp fanfic #harry potter oneshots #harry potter fanfic #oliver wood fanfic

[cyripticchronicler]

Love Potions and Unspoken Desires - Sirius Black

A mishap with Amortentia has you and Sirius head over heels for each other. Except, your feelings are genuine. But what is his were too?

A/N: I haven't posted in forever and I'm so sorry! I've been busy with school and have been studying a lot. I'm really proud of this one shot though and I hope everyone likes it!! If there are any errors or constructive criticism you want to give please tell me <3

Warnings: Slight mentions of abuse, kissing

Masterlist

The torch-lit halls guide your way as you walk towards Potions, mind racing at the mere thought of the lesson. You wrap your arms around yourself in an attempt to make yourself more comfortable, trying your best to keep your back straight. 

They slump as soon as you enter the room.

“You’re late,” Professor Slughorn announces loudly causing your cheeks to heat. Everyone's heads whipped around to face you and you prayed to Merlin the ground would swallow you up whole. 

You clear your throat so your voice doesn't come out scratchy, “Sorry, Professor. I was helping out in Transfiguration.”

He nods in dismissal and you take that as your queue to find a seat, eyes scanning the crowded room for an empty spot. Your eyes land on the only free seat next to Sirius Black and you tense.  You can barely be in the same room as him and now you're going to have to sit next to you? Merlin, you wish this day was over. 

And he looks so pretty today too. His hair was freshly washed, Gryffindor tie slung loosely around his neck, and shirt sleeves pulled up to his elbows. 

A pointed cough snaps you out of your thoughts and you hurry towards the seat, cheeks flushing in embarrassment. 

You’re pretty sure everyone just saw you check out Sirius Black. 

Could this day get any worse?

Turns out it could. 

You go to chuck your bag underneath the table but miss by a long shot, the bottom of your school bag hitting Sirius in the face, causing him to let out a surprised groan. Some people behind you let out a laugh and you squeeze your eyes shut, kicking your bag underneath the table and sitting in your seat. 

You barely make eye contact before you look away, muttering a hushed ‘sorry’ and attempting to catch up on the notes you missed. 

“Today we’re making Amortentia. Can someone tell me what this is?” At the lack of answers, he turns to you with a pointed look.

You raise your hand nervously. “It’s the most potent love potion. When consumed it causes a powerful infatuation or obsession in the drinker towards the person who administered the potion. it does not create genuine love; rather, it amplifies preexisting feelings or creates an artificial attraction.”

“Very good. Five points to Gryffindor.”

You nod your head awkwardly and look back down at your notes. 

“Write down the ingredients and instructions and then get started. You’re going to be working with the people next to you.”

You tense up, head snapping up. Sirius chuckles next to you and you turn to face him. 

“Looks like we’re working together, Love. I’ll go get the ingredients.”

You nod your head awkwardly, too shocked to respond. Did he just call you love? Are you okay?

Your cheeks heat and you groan internally at yourself. Stop blushing you dipshit. 

Attempting to distract yourself, you make quick work of cleaning the workspace, spotting Sirius talking to James and Remus out of the corner of your eye. James smacks Sirius’ back, whispering something that causes Remus to shake his head and Sirius to grin. 

He comes back a minute later, ingredients in hand. 

“You seem to know a lot about this potion, you ever used it on someone?” He smirks teasingly causing your cheeks to flush. “No,” You mutter quietly, “I just like making potions.”

He nodded in acknowledgement, eyes searching your face. You look away quickly, his stare burning your face as you pour some ingredients into the cauldron. 

You continue the work in comfortable - for him at least- silence, working with him easier than ever. 

You were finished in no time, grinning in triumph as you tried not to breathe in the strong smell. 

“Well done you too! Grab a vile and bottle some up why don't you.” Professor Slughorn smiles, hurrying off to another table whose cauldron is smoking. 

“Good job, love. I might have to work with you more,” Sirius flirts and you jerk in surprise, hand flying back and knocking the vile that he was holding with your own, Amortentia effectively spilling over you both. 

His eyes grow dilated in seconds and you assume yours do the same, heart thumping and palms sweating as you stare up at him with heart eyes. 

“I-I'm so sorry.” You force out, too focused on how he looked at you like you hung the moon. 

“For?” He questions, seemingly in a daze. He looks down at his shirt and grins. “Right, it’s no problem, Love. You can do nothing wrong in my eyes.” He flirts and you go back to respond but are successfully cut off by James. 

“Sirius! You’re in deep shit, man.” He laughs, slapping him on the back. You track the hand, wishing it was yours instead.

Sirius doesn’t respond, too busy grinning at you. Merlin, this potion is good.

“Dear, dear.” Professor Slughorn mutters as he comes to inspect the chaos. “Right, it will wear off soon. You’re just going to be partially in love with each other for a bit.”

Sirius grins, “I am in love with her-” James cuts him off with a hand on the shoulder, dragging him towards the door. “I’ll just keep him away until the potion wears off-”

“The class isn’t over-” Professor Slughorn protests but James is already gone. You frown in disappointment, already missing Sirius. 

—

It was a few hours later, the potion's effects still thrumming through your blood, your infatuation for him stronger than ever. You were distracted the whole day, mind always seeming to stray away to thoughts of Sirius. How pretty he looked, how he’d let you put his hair up, maybe even braid it, how he’d smile at you. He’d probably be great in bed too- 

“You’re doing it again.” Lily mutters, face scrunched up in disgust and you groan in shame. “It’s like my feelings for him have been amplified by 100. It’s amazing but unbearable at the same time.”

She grabs your hand in comfort, grabbing the mashed potatoes with her other hand and piling them onto her plate. You’re in the Great Hall for dinner, loud chattering filling the crowded space. From just a few feet away Sirius and his friends sit and if you listen hard enough you can hear James’ obnoxious laugh. 

“I'm sure the potion will wear off soon,” Alice reassures from beside you, grinning at you in hopes of making you feel better.

You shake your head in disagreement. “It’s only been two hours and these potions can last for days.”

“We just have to keep you away from him. How hard can that be?”

Very hard, you realise, eyes widening at the sight of Sirius Black stalking towards you, encouraged by the jeering of his friends. 

“Hello, Love.” He smiles, eyes soft as he admires your face. You sigh, chin resting on your hand, too distracted by his beauty to respond. He seems too distracted by your beauty to call you out on your silence.

“Fucking hell,” Lily whispers from somewhere behind you but you pay her no mind, continuing to smile at Sirius as he does the same. 

A loud laugh from James who still sits at the table, snaps him out of his daze, “W-would you want to have breakfast with me tomorrow?”

You nod immediately, smile blinding, probably losing a few brain cells from how intensely you were nodding. 

He flashes his pearly whites, “Great! I’ll meet you in the common room at seven?” He questions and you nod, too distracted by this freckle you just spotted right underneath his eye. He doesn’t make a move to go, eyes tracing your jawline slowly. 

“Okay!” You jump at Lily’s hands on your shoulders, slowly dragging you out of the hall. “Time to say goodbye.” You and Sirius both frown. “Don’t be like that, you’ll see each other tomorrow.” She grabs your arm and waves it back and forth, “Now say bye-bye.”

“Bye,” You whisper, cheeks flushing. “Bye, Love.” He mutters back. 

—

“Why did today of all days be the day nothing turned out properly!” You whine, head falling in defeat onto your folded arms that rest on your dresser, abandoned mascara bottle hanging loosely in your hand. 

Lily coos softly from behind you, distracted by getting dressed. “Sweetheart, you look amazing. You’re not having a bad eyelash day and your hair looks great! Sirius is going to fall to his knees when he sees you.”

You look up from your arms slowly, meeting Lily’s eyes in the mirror, “You think?” You question hopefully. She nods. “And my eyelashes look okay?” She nods again and you smile softly. “Thank you,” You stand up, moving to get dressed. “I don’t even know why I care so much, it’s just breakfast. I swear this love potion is making me go crazy.”

“Sure, it’s the ‘love potion’ that’s making you go crazy,” Lily mutters sarcastically from behind you but you’re too busy daydreaming about Sirius’ eyes to notice. 

–

“Hello.” You mutter, successfully gaining Sirius’ attention as he turns to face you. He’s dressed in his uniform but he’s obviously tried to tidy it up a little bit. His usually loose tie wrapped tightly around his neck, his white t-shirt tucked into his freshly ironed slacks. “You look nice today, but-” You walk over, hand gripping his tie and losing it. “That’s better.”

You notice a faint blush on his cheeks and grin. “Thank you, love. So do you. Are you ready for breakfast?” 

You nod you both start walking to the hall together, his hand brushing yours slightly. You take in a deep breath for confidence, trying to calm your racing heart as you link your fingers through his. 

He doesn't pull away. 

You make it into the hall a few minutes later, taking a seat beside Sirius. James attempts to sit across from us but one look from Sirius sends him sitting at the end of the table beside Remus, a pout on his lips. 

“You didn't have to send him away,” You mutter, feeling bad. 

“He’ll live. Besides, I wanted to spend time with you.” Sirius states, causing you to blush. He grabs your plate, piling it with the stuff you get every morning before handing it back to you.

“How do you know what I eat for breakfast?” You question, face scrunched in confusion. Sirius pauses his movements of piling his own plate, cheeks tinted pink. “I-I guess the potion has made me more aware of what you eat.”

“Yeah, but the incident happened after breakfast yesterday.”

He shrugs, “Huh, I don’t know then.”

“Have you-”

“Do you like to read? There's this really pretty bookstore that just opened up in Hogsmeade. Maybe we can go after breakfast? Get some butter beer too?”

You decide to let it go, “Yeah, I’d love to go. I’ve been meaning to get some more books to read, too.”

He grins, eyes sparkling in delight as he stares into your eyes, “Great! It’s a date.”

—

“I don’t believe you!” You laugh, knocking your shoulder against Sirius’, hands linked as you make your way down the snowy path to Hogsmeade.

“It’s true!” Sirius insists, pulling you closer, nose red from the cold. He looks so pretty, you think. If only his feelings for you were true. 

“And Euphemia let you stay after that? She must have a heart of gold.” You tease playfulling, relishing in his laugh that warms your insides. 

“Oh she does, I owe her my life.” Before you can question him he’s pulling you towards The Three Broomsticks. “Now c’mon, let's get you a butterbeer before you freeze to death.”

You comply, following him into the warm building, the quiet talks of chatter greeting you as Sirius leads you to a table in the corner. 

“So,” He begins, leaning forward for suspense. “Tell me something that you’ve told no one else.”

You impulsively grab his hand, letting it warm up your cold one. He doesn't mention it as you speak, “Um, in first year I once walked in on The Grey Lady and The Bloody Baron trying to ‘get it on.’ I was too traumatized to tell anyone.”

He stares at you, shellshocked. “Well- That’s certainly not what I was expecting. Is that even possible?”

You chuckle quietly at his shocked impression, “No, actually. They kept on going through each other. It was horrible to watch.”

“Your poor eyes,” He winces in sympathy, squeezing your hand tightly. 

“It’s still engraved in my mind. It’s put me off kissing ever since.”

He freezes slightly. “So you haven't kissed anyone?” He questions quietly, eyes shining in delight. Your cheeks flush, “No.”

He takes in a breath, leaning forward and you instinctively do the same until your noses are brushing. “So if I were to kiss you right now, I’d be the first one to ever touch these precious lips?” You nod and his eyes squeeze shut. 

“Fuck.” He mutters under his breath. “Can I-”

“Here are your two butterbeers.” You jerk back at the unexpected voice, watching as Sirius does the same. “T-thank you,” You mutter to the waitress who is already gone, taking a big gulp of your butterbeer in the hope of cooling down your flushed body. 

You sit in silence until it gets too awkward for you and you attempt to start a conversation, “We’re still going to the bookstore after this, right?”

He jumps, not expecting you to speak before he breaks out into a relaxed grin. “Of course, Love. I’m not much of a reader but I know you are.”

“Oh, that’s sweet. If you don’t want to go then we can just head back-” “I want to go. I want to spend time with you.”

“Oh.” You curse internally. You’ve already said ‘Oh.’ “Thank you? Yeah, thank you.” He laughs, “Don’t thank me, love.”

You flush, “Sorry-” “And don't say sorry either.”

You nod, “Sorry- I mean, shit.” He laughs at your ramble causing your cheeks to go bright red. You attempt to turn the conversation around, “What do you mean you owe Euphemia your life?” He visibly tenses and you curse. Fucking idiot.

“You don’t have to- That was rude-” He links your fingers together, placing them on the table and successfully cutting you off. 

“It’s okay. I trust you, love.” He grins but it seems fake. “My parents and I never got along, and after I joined Gryfindor things started getting worse. Whenever they got violent I went to James and Euphemia would take care of me. My family successfully kicked me out last summer and I’ve been living with James ever since.” He falls quiet and you squeeze his hand. 

“I’m sorry-” You cut yourself off at his glare. “I hope you’re okay.”

He manages a grin, a true one this time. “I’m okay, especially with you.” He teases causing your cheeks to flush. 

“That’ll change once the potion wears off,” You attempt to joke but Sirius is silent. “Yeah…”

Crickets. 

“Want to go check out the bookstore?” You grasp at any shred of confidence. 

Sirius practically jumps out of his seat, taking you with him. “Let’s go.”

—-

“I had fun tonight.” You state, awkwardly standing by the steps that will lead you to your dorm. Sirius stalks closer towards you. 

“I did too,” He grins, diamonds in his eyes as he brushes your hair behind your ear before cradling your cheek gently. “Remember to tell me what you thought of that book,” He shrugs down at the book in your hand, unable to keep his eyes off you.

“Yeah. I should go…” You make no move to leave and Sirius makes no move to remove his hand from your cheek. 

“You should,” He whispers, eyes trained on your lips, swollen from how many times you’ve bitten it out of nervousness. 

And then his lips are on yours. 

And then you're kissing him back. 

And your back is against the wall, his tongue pushes into your mouth, and he’s holding your waist. You can't breathe and you're scratching your nails down his shirt-clad back until he groans against your mouth in pleasure. 

And then you’re pulling away. “Stop,” You whisper against his lips.

He stops immediately, taking a few steps away from you, “I-I’m sorry. I should’ve asked.” His lips are swollen and wet and you want nothing more than to kiss him again.

But you can't.

“No, I’m sorry.” You hide your face in your hands, back against the wall. “I-I should’ve said no to the date. I just- I wanted so badly for your feelings to be real. That you’d actually like me but it’s not fair on you. And I’m sorry.”

He looks at you like you’ve grown another head. “I do like you.”

You shake your head, “Sirius-” “I do! I’ve liked you for years. I’ve been wanting to tell you but you just make me so nervous-” “Sirius-”

“C’mon, listen to me-” “This is the potion!” 

“The potion wore off hours ago and you know it!”

You slump against the wall in defeat, legs against your chest as you look away from him. You know he’s right. The once amplified feelings you had for him are more sane and you no longer feel like you’d kill every single person who so much as looked at him the wrong way. 

“You can’t like me back. I don’t believe you.”

He crouches down in front of you, hands shaking as he reaches to touch your knee. “Why don’t you believe me, my love?” He questions, his voice much quieter than it was before.

“Because you’re Sirius Black,” You whisper like it explains everything. And it does. He’s Sirius Black, the golden boy who could have anyone he wanted.

“And you’re you. If anything I don’t deserve you. You’re smart, beautiful, way out of my league.” You open your mouth to protest but he cuts you off. “But I’m going to work every day to be the man you deserve because I want you. So badly it hurts.”

“I want you too,” You mutter shyly, you look into his eyes that still look at you like you’ve hung the moon. 

“Aw my love,” He pulls you closer, breath fanning your cheek. “You’ve had me for a long time.”

Taglist - If you want to be removed feel free to comment. I won't be offended :)

@aremuslupinsimp

#sirius black oneshot #sirius black fanfiction #sirius black imagines #sirius black fic #sirius black fanfic #sirius black x reader #sirius black x reader angst to fluff #sirius black x reader fluff #sirius black x y/n #sirius black #sirius x reader #sirius orion black #sirius black x you #Sirius black x reader #sirius black imagine #the marauders #marauders #the marauders era #marauders era #hp marauders #sirius black fluff #sirius black kinnie

[minichrismd]

The Target On Your Back - Theodore Nott

Words | 600 Warnings | Fighting, Theo being a raging dick Pairings | Theo Nott x Reader | Neville Longbottom & Reader (Platonic)

“What did you just say?” You hear as you round the corner, an audible crack ringing above the hushed mumbles of other students surrounding what you assumed was a fight unfolding. You couldn’t see anything as you approached the back of the circle that had formed. You craned your neck to see a glimpse of what was going on, another cracking sound, followed by yelling.

“What’s going on?” You spoke, slightly panicked to the Ravenclaw girl who was stood in front of you.

“Nott and Longbottom. Nott’s winning.” She spoke nonchalantly, as if she didn’t care that another student, your friend, was getting beaten.

You felt an unfamiliar feeling surge inside you. Anger. You barged your way through the surrounding students, bursting through the front line and finally witnessing the scene that had unfolded. Nott had Neville pinned up against the wall with one hand in the middle of his chest, his other laying punches into his face and stomach.

Something snapped inside you.

You couldn’t help yourself, charging into Nott’s side at full force and throwing him off balance, causing him to lose his footing and fall to the floor. You pulled your wand out and aimed it at him.

“You ok Nev?” You asked the shaken boy, keeping your eyes fixed on Nott, who was beginning to get back up.

“Yeah, I-I’m ok.” Neville mumbled, wiping his bloody nose with the sleeve of his cloak.

You watched at Nott got back to his feet, glaring at you. He took a step towards you.

“Take one more step and I’ll hex you into next year.” You stood your ground, defending your friend with unwavering confidence and anger coursing through your body. You could feel your heart pounding in your chest.

Neville stared at you in disbelief, as did many other students that had been watching the fight. You were known for being the quiet, kind Hufflepuff who sat in the back of the class and often carried round a bag of sweets from Honeydukes, handing them out to anyone who looked upset.

This was a side of you no one had seen before, it was a side of you reserved for those who hurt the people you cared for.

Your eyes narrowed, your wand still trained on Nott, searching for any sign of movement towards you. His glare was piercing, ice cold. If looks could kill.

He stepped away from you, turning and shoving his way through the crowd, sending students falling into one another as he left. You let out a sigh of relief as you watched him leave, only turning to Neville after he was out of your sight.

“Let’s get you to the hospital wing.” You spoke softly, wrapping Neville’s arm over your shoulder and helping him through the corridors.

As you arrived at the hospital wing, Madame Pomfrey rushed over to take Neville to a bed, firing questions at you. There was an unspoken rule between the students, if you fought each other and were injured, say nothing. Your explanation to Madame Pomfrey was that you’d just found Neville like this and had no idea what had happened. You knew she didn’t believe you, but she had no proof that anything you said wasn’t true.

She shooed you from the wing shortly after Neville was placed into a bed, stating that he needed to rest and would be back to class in a couple of days. You nodded, remaining silent, afraid that anything you would say may give away too much information. You really didn’t want a target on your back, even though you now had one from defending your friend.

#slytherin boys #theo nott x reader #theodore nott x you #theo nott #theodore nott #theodore nott x reader #theo nott x you #neville longbottom #neville longbotton x reader #fanfiction #fanfic #writing #oneshot #theo nott one shot #harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #hp fanfic

[mrsriddlenott]

Best Friend!Theodore Nott x Fem!Reader

Angsty but a Happy Ending, kinda college AU but not important, some Fluff, no real warnings besides language.

Kinda trying a newish style so lmk if it’s better or worse or if you don’t mind either way.

Summary: When your best friend Theo sleeps with your childhood bully in a moment of weakness, wanting you.

Theo Nott had never had a shortage of girls at his disposal. He could have fun whenever he wanted. With whoever he wanted. So why wasn’t he having fun without her here. She was mad at him, he knew that, but he never would have thought she’d missed his celebration party. He had basically just won the team their whole match for fucks sake. So where the hell was she?

Okay, maybe he had crossed a line last night but she would have said something if she was mad enough to skip his party….right? It wasn’t like he hadn’t been with girls around her before. He didn’t realize his feet were carrying him to her dorm room until he was already banging on the cracking wood and breathing heavily as he spoke, “Come on y/n/n you gotta come out and celebrate with me.”

The door creaked open only a slit, a smile quickly painting his face as her gorgeous eyes he feared he’d never see again peaked around it, “Hey you,” He said through his smile, “Are you gonna come out to the party?” His face fell as he attempted to enter the room, only for the door to be held firm making him chuckle nervously, eyeing what he could see of her.

“Um I’m actually a bit tired and I think-“ The sound of a distinctly familiar chuckle had his eyebrows shooting up his face, only now was he realizing the scent of overly expensive cologne….and arrogance. Her eyes shut tightly as she huffed out in annoyance, allowing Theo to shove into her dorm room to see Draco Malfoy perched shirtless on her bed as though he was the king of the world. For some reason he couldn’t stomach the sight of it, him, his teammate, his friend, on the bed he spent most of his weekends on, his safe space for him and his favorite girl.

“We were a little busy Theo so if you don’t mind.” Draco propped himself up as he spoke, using her favorite stuffed animal, which he himself had won her a few summers ago and he snapped. “Get the fuck out.” He didn’t understand why he took it so personally, Draco probably didn’t even know the little cat was y/n’s favorite which made it all the more infuriating, “Get your fucking shirt and get out or I will throw you out Malfoy, and we both already know who will win that fight.”

Draco laughed as he yanked his shirt off the floor before shooting a wink in y/n’s direction and slipping out the door still half naked while Theo slammed it behind him. “What the fuck were you thinking, Draco fucking Malfoy, seriously?!” Her face was shocked but angry, so angry his breath picked up and his heart raced as he tried to calm down and speak softly. For a long moment the room was nearly silent, she was waiting for him to speak but he couldn’t.

She scoffed at him before starting up, “Oh so you can get with whoever you want but I can’t, is that how this works now?” Her eyes were watering, he could see them glistening but she didn’t let the tears fall and he couldn’t hold his own back if she hadn’t as well. “It’s Draco y/n. He’s just using you.”

“Okay? And maybe I’m using him too, maybe I just wanted him to fuck my brains out like he promised,” The thought had bile rising up his throat as anger began to overtake him, “Maybe I just wanted to forget the image of you fucking Pansy Parkinson at a party you threw for me!”

She huffed at him as her eyes rolled, he couldn’t form words, he didn’t know what to say, it’s not like the truth would be any good. He had fucked Pansy and of course he knew somewhere deep down she would be mad but he couldn’t admit he was only with Pansy that night because he wanted y/n. It was a pitiful excuse and made no sense even to him, he was looking for her, he wanted her and he was finally going to tell her. But there she was. Dancing and laughing and having fun without him. He needed her, in every meaning of the word, his world would crash and burn without y/n but hers would go on spinning, clearly. It could have been any girl really but Pansy was there and he didn’t think.

The look on y/n’s face when she walked in on them hurt him more than anything he could imagine. She had come looking for him. To spend the rest of the party with him he guessed, and he hated himself for ruining it. “Are you gonna say anything?! You fucked the girl who made my life hell for years at Hogwarts Theo, did you even think about how that would make me feel? How that would make this friendship look?” She hadn’t called him anything but Teddy in years and somehow it was that which broke him. He was crying now, stumbling over failed sentences as he tried to explain.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry you’re right I didn’t think. I was looking for you and I- I fuck you were right there and I should have come up to you anyway but you were so happy and you didn’t need me.” His words spewed out uncontrollably, he didn’t know he could feel half the things he felt for her and he couldn’t explain most but he would keep going until she kicked him out, “You never needed me, you’re so perfect and independent and I rely on you so much, I can barely get out of bed without you waking me up.” He watched her face as she watched his, she was hurt and confused but listening nonetheless so he continued.

“I don’t know when to stop okay, and that’s not an excuse it’s not I just needed someone….I needed you and I wanted you and I couldn’t have you, and when I went to leave she was there and she wanted me and I’m such an idiot I know that. I’m so fucking sorry I didn’t even think of how she bullied you all those years ago and I’m such a bad friend, you deserve better you really do.” He fell to his knees as her tears dripped down her cheeks to the floor, he couldn’t stop his own sobs as he cradled his face in his hands, “I can’t lose you.” He mumbled through his tears as he heard her feet shuffle around.

He jolted, eyes finding hers much closer than expected as her warm hand cradled his shoulder, “I don’t want to forgive you, but I love you and I need you more than you know, the only reason I’m so calm without you is because I have to balance out your insanity.” You chuckled through tears, “I can’t be mad at you for sleeping with her, you’re both adults and we were all children when we started at Hogwarts and it’s been long enough that we can leave that in it’s corridors. It….it just hurt because….I” She sighed before she continued, “I was jealous, and I didn’t know how to tell you. I wasn’t really mad because you fucked Pansy, I’d be mad if I walked in on you with anyone….because they aren’t me Teddy.”

His heart broke as he heard her, he wanted to be with her since he was a child, he loved her in more ways he thought possible and every time he thought it was done growing he found a way to love her more. And now he knew she felt the same.

~~~~

#theo nott x you #theodore nott x y/n #theodore nott x you #theodore nott fluff #theodore nott oneshot #theo nott x reader #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott fic #theodore nott x fem!reader #theodore nott #theo nott x fem!reader #theo nott #fluff #hp fluff #harry potter #hp #hp fandom #harry potter fanfiction #hp fanfic #harry potter fandom #hp fanfcition #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy #angst #theo nott angst #theodore nott angst #harry potter angst #hp angst #harry potter oneshot #yn

[moonstruckme]

hi! i've been stalking your page for literal hours and i love how you write poly marauders so much!! could you write how they would react to the reader coming home from a night out with a black eye or something like that?? <33333

Thank you lovely! And thanks for being so patient while I took literal months to get to this request haha, love you! <3

cw: reader is drunk and has a black eye

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1.2k words

“Hey, gorgeous,” Sirius says as you come in the door. Remus shushes him, and he lowers his voice. “How’re the girls?” 

“Good,” you reply, cautiously quiet as you kick off your shoes. 

Rounding the couch, you see James asleep on Remus’ shoulder, a small puddle of drool soaking into the material of the taller boy’s pajama shirt. They’re all in pajamas, actually. Envy strikes you through the heart. They look so unbearably cozy, better than you in your scratchy jeans and too-tight top. 

“I hope you didn’t wait up,” you say as Remus flips his book closed, and Sirius chuckles. You’ll learn later that you’d been slurring your words. 

“We don’t mind,” Remus confirms your suspicions. “You didn’t walk home by yourself, did you?” 

You shake your head, flopping into the spot beside James on the couch. Only you hadn’t quite thought that through, and Remus tuts as he starts to rouse. 

“Sorry,” you whisper. “Um, the girls dropped me off out front.” 

Sirius nods his approval. James hums as he picks his head up off Remus’ shoulder, spotting you. 

“Hey, lovie.” He transfers his affections to you, wrapping his arms around your neck and letting himself weigh heavily against your front. You giggle, your favorite monkey. “Did you just get home?” 

“Uh-huh. Oh, Jamie!” You gasp as a memory makes its way out of the fog of your brain. “I saw something you would have loved.” 

“What’s that?” he asks. 

“We came across a dog park, and I didn’t even know those could be open at night but—” 

“No, angel.” He’s stopped hugging you, an unpleasant development, one of his hands leaving your neck to hold your cheek. “What’s that on your face?” 

“Hm?” You don’t remember anything getting on your face. “I dunno. Jamie, I’m trying to tell you about the puppies.” 

“Just hold on, darling, sorry. Is that a bruise?” 

“What?” Sirius is in front of you before you know what’s happened. Vampire-fast, you think fascinatedly, wondering if he’d have been a streak across your vision had you bothered to look. Though, to be fair, your vision is generally streaky at the moment. He takes your chin in his hand, tilting it up and to the side. “Remus, point your light here.” 

There’s a low creaking as Remus adjusts his reading lamp, and then you’re squeezing your eyes shut. 

“Jesus, what the hell?” 

Remus curses softly, and you squint to see him leaning closer to you. Your boyfriends’ faces crowd your vision like a three-headed monster. 

“Baby,” Sirius says, sounding heartbroken, “what happened?” 

“I don’t—can you move the light away?” 

More creaking, and you can see again. You blink, eyes watery, and Sirius lays a painstakingly gentle thumb over the skin beneath your eye. 

“It must be bad if it’s already bruising,” he says. 

Remus stands. “Then we should put ice on it.” 

You pout as he disappears into the kitchen, but Sirius recaptures your attention by turning your face toward his. 

“I need you to think.” He fixes his stare on yours gravely. His eyes are the color of the moon reflecting off water. You try to tell him so, but his frown doesn’t abate. “Listen,” he says, “what happened to hurt your eye? You have to remember.” 

You purse your lips, shaking your head at him. “I feel like I’d know if something happened,” you say self-assuredly. “It’s probably just makeup. Can you get me a wipe?” 

“Angel.” James’ eyebrows have hooked upwards in the middle. He’s looking uncharacteristically serious, too. Your boyfriends are really not being a ton of fun tonight, you think. “It’s all red and purple. You can’t tell me that doesn’t hurt, babydoll.” 

You shrug. That may be so. But if it doesn’t hurt, who really cares? 

Sirius gets up just as Remus comes back with what looks like a balled-up dish towel. He passes it to you with a tender look on his face. 

“Put this on your eye, honey,” he says. Then, “Sirius, love, where are you going?” 

“To call Evans.” 

You touch the cloth to your eye, but it’s freezing cold, and you opt to let it rest in your lap instead.

“She won’t even be home yet,” Remus argues. “And what do you think you’ll accomplish if you do get ahold of her? She can’t tell us anything now that she won’t still know in the morning.” 

“What if somebody did this to her? If Evans saw, I want to know about it tonight.” 

“Don’t you think,” James says, “that if someone hit her, the girls would’ve come in and told us?” You lean against his side, and he wraps an arm around you automatically, rubbing your shoulder. He smells like strawberries and laundry detergent and something ineffably homey. “They wouldn’t have just dropped her off out front.” 

“What if no one saw?” 

“Then what do you think calling will do, love?” 

“I just…I feel like I have to do something. Don’t you?” 

You lean your head on James’ shoulder and snuggle into the familiar sounds of your boyfriends’ voices, overlapping and intermingling. You don’t realize they’ve gone quiet until Remus’ hand wraps around yours, and you open your eyes. 

“You’ve got to actually hold this on your eye,” he chides lovingly, taking the dish towel from you and pressing it to your face. 

The edge of something hard beneath the cloth digs into a tender spot beneath your eye, and you flinch. “Ow.” 

Remus’ forehead creases sympathetically. “Sorry.” 

But the pain brings another memory out of the fog. You pick your head up as you feel your good eye widen in realization, meeting Sirius’. 

He flicks up an eyebrow. “What’re you smiling about?” 

“I remember what happened,” you admit, a touch of embarrassment to your tone. And if you hadn’t had everyone’s attention before, you do now. 

“What was it?” James rubs your shoulder reassuringly. “You can tell us.” 

“It’s…when we were at the dog park, I got distracted.” 

Remus’ eyes narrow. “Go on.” 

You rub your lips together self-consciously. “I may have walked into a sign. About poop bags.” 

James leans away from you to see you better. “Like, a metal sign?” 

You nod, and he winces. 

“Ouch, lovie.” 

“Fucking hell.” Sirius covers his face with both hands, loosing a big breath through the cracks in his palms. Remus reaches back to pats his leg consolingly. “I was ready to go after whoever did that with a tire iron.” 

You shrink into the couch cushions. “Sorry.” 

“You could still take a tire iron to the sign, I suppose,” James says. 

Sirius ignores him, crouching in front of you and taking your face in both hands. Remus lets the cloth drop rather than maneuver around him. “Don’t ever scare me like that again, understand?” 

“Yeah,” James agrees, “if you injure yourself in the future, ask for a pen and make a note on your arm or something. Save us the worry.” 

You lean forward, pressing a lingering, heartfelt kiss to Sirius’ cheek. 

“Thanks for worrying,” you say, and where your lips touched him the skin glows pink. 

“You’re taking years of my life, you know,” he says quietly. 

Remus chuckles. “Don’t worry. It looks good on you.” 

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[theemporium]

Just a thought but Sirius or someone having a thing for you for ages and at some point you finally get together but Remus James and Peter just don’t believe it because you’re so opposite and Sirius just trying to convince them but they don’t believe him until they walk into you kissing or something. Love your work btw <3

kinda changed it to sirius being with someone they never expected but i hope you enjoy it! and thank you!!🖤

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“Pads is dating her?!”

Remus and James stood in front of Peter, lips parted in shock at the rumour that just left their friend’s lips. They had been in the common room, respective textbooks sprawled around them when Peter came rushing in, eyes wide and cheeks flushed at what he had just seen.

At first, they thought their friend was taking the piss and waited for Sirius to jump out from the shadows with a grin on his face, claiming it was all a prank. But no Sirius had appeared and Peter kept talking and—fuck, they just couldn’t quite believe it.

In all honesty, it was shocking enough that Sirius had settled down with one person, let alone that he was dating you of all people. 

You stood for everything they assumed their friend hated, purely because you would’ve been Walburgha Black’s number one choice to marry her eldest son off with. 

You were raised with the pureblood etiquette, speaking prim and proper and not even allowing yourself to use slang as you spoke. You were a Slytherin, and proud to be so. You were crazy smart and you were the image of pureblood royalty, though the cold shoulder you usually gave people and the snarky attitude didn’t exactly make it easy for even those with a pureblood complex to approach you. 

Even if for some bizarre reason their friend had fallen for you, the fact that you liked him back was shocking enough to keep both boys seated on the couch as Peter retold the story for the thirteenth time. 

“I’m calling bullshit,” James said with a shake of his head. “This must be some elaborate prank he’s pulled off.”

“And what? Got her involved?” Remus asked. 

“Maybe it’s someone with a polyjuice potion,” Peter supplied. 

“Or maybe Pads is actually dating her,” Remus said before his nose scrunched up. “Yeah no, he’s definitely up to something.” 

It took less than five seconds to work out where Sirius was with the help of the map that was quickly shoved in their pocket as all three boys began rushing towards the courtyard, so sure that whatever Peter had seen had to be false. 

Because there was no fucking way that Sirius Black was—

All three boys quickly drew to a stop when they noticed you both. You were sitting on a picnic blanket, leaning back on your hands as you nodded along to something. Sirius, however, had his head propped on your lap, talking away as his hands moved animatedly to the point they could have sworn they saw your lips twitch into a smile. 

“Holy shit,” James gaped at the sight. 

“It could still be a prank,” Remus said, though he didn’t know how much he really believed that himself. 

And just when they thought they couldn’t be shocked any further, you leaned down to press your lips against the wizard, his hand coming to grip the back of your neck as he deepened the kiss. 

“Moony, are you seeing this?” 

“I’m seeing this, Prongs.” 

“Right, great because I think I’m gonna faint.” 

What they couldn’t see was the way Sirius’s lips twisted into a grin as he continued to kiss you, his fingers expertly pulling the clip out of your hair until it cascaded around you both. 

“Your friends are still staring,” you informed him, the words whispered against his lips as you began to pull back but he was quick to chase you. 

“Let them stare all they want, love,” he murmured as his thumb lightly brushed over your thumping pulse. “I bet they are fucking confused.” 

“Such crass language,” you hummed. 

Sirius smirked. “Gonna punish me, love?” 

You shook your head in amusement, pulling back fully despite the way Sirius playfully pouted in response. “You wouldn’t be able to handle my punishments, Black.” 

His eyes gleamed at the challenge. “Is that so?” 

“You are all bark and no bite,” you informed him and the boy was quick to scramble up, his hands darting to your sides as he crawled over your squirming body. 

“I can show you just how hard I bite, love, you just gotta ask.”

.

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