#hp oneshot
Text
...ready for it? | mattheo riddle x reader
song; ...ready for it? [taylor swift]
pairing; mattheo riddle x fem!muggle-born!reader
genre; fake dating, s2l, fluff, smut
word count; 5,3k
timeline; subsidiary 8th year
warnings; swearing, references to alcohol/drugs/smoking, violence, blood and injury, piv sex, unprotected sex, fingering, discrimination (of muggle-borns)
summary; following the war, mattheo is suffocated by the association with his father, and decides there is only one way to make people see that he is nothing like him. you, on the other hand, want to prove to people that, in the year you've been in hiding, you have changed from the naïve goody-two-shoes you once were
screaming crying throwing up at how good tortured poets department is
masterlist
"in the middle of the night, in my dreams, you should see the things we do."
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The rumours followed Mattheo Riddle like hitmen— praying for his downfall, never leaving him alone, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. To many, it was obvious what he was before even meeting him. Evidently, the son of the Dark Lord was every bit as bad as his father, would fill his shoes now that he was dead, that there would be a Third Wizarding War with Mattheo at the very centre of it. Never mind that he hardly knew his father, that Voldemort had been gone for almost his entire childhood.
After the final demise of the Dark Lord, and Mattheo had elected to return to Hogwarts for the subsidiary eighth year, his reputation built on gossip and assumptions had only gotten worse. It hadn't helped that he now bore the dark mark on his left forearm, and he had tried to explain that his father had forced him to take it, that he would have hurt him in unthinkable ways if he didn't, but no one listened. No one cared. He still had his friends, but his association with them didn't help, as most of them were pure-blooded Slytherins whose families were death eaters.
But without them he would have nothing.
He didn't understand— no one was nearly as mad at Draco for walking over to the Dark Lord at the final battle as they were at him for simply possessing some of his DNA. It made him resent his cousin, but he knew he couldn't blame him. He had been every bit as coerced into the death eater cult as him: threatened with the deaths of them and their families.
Muggle-borns and the majority of the half-bloods avoided him like the plague; even some pure-bloods, who were far more politically correct, looked at him with distaste in their eyes. Mattheo wanted to scream to the whole world that he wasn't his father and didn't give a single fuck about blood purity. But who would listen? They would see that he was screaming and immediately associate his anger with the desire to start a war.
You, on the other hand, also couldn't escape your reputation. Prior to the war, you had been known as a goody-two-shoes, called uptight, boring, a smartass. While in hiding throughout seventh year, you had shed any resemblance you had to such an identity, but despite appearing and acting completely differently now you had returned for the subsidiary eighth year, your peers still treated you like a naïve and overly innocent child. Bullied you, even, in some more extreme cases. They viewed you as socially inept, sexually unaware, scared of alcohol, smoking and drugs.
They wouldn't listen when you told them that you had changed— so, there you found yourself, in a Saturday detention after doing something incredibly stupid to get people to stop seeing you that way. The stupid thing in question? You had let yourself get caught being outside of your house quarters after curfew. It was pathetic, and an admittedly idiotic thing to do just for the sake of changing your reputation, but there you were.
Worst thing was it hadn't even worked.
"I bet she had a panic attack," a Ravenclaw girl had giggled.
"She definitely got on her knees and started begging for the professor to show mercy," a Hufflepuff boy had laughed.
They still saw you as pathetic and helpless: a certified teacher's pet.
"Miss L/N, you'll be serving detention with Mr Riddle today," Professor McGonagall spoke, snapping you out of your self-pitying thoughts, "Your task will be to clean every cauldron here in the potions classroom— by hand, no magic— until they are gleaming."
You glanced over to your right to see that Mattheo Riddle was indeed sat there: he must have snuck in while you were deep in thought. It was just your luck, that your weak attempt would have the worst possible consequences— being stuck in detention with the Dark Lord's son as a muggle-born.
"I will check on you both periodically." The headmistress then departed, but not before saying to you, "I'm disappointed in you, Miss L/N."
Even your professors still saw you as naïve. It made you angry.
Mattheo watched you curiously as you stormed over to the big stack of cauldrons and roughly grabbed one, slamming it down on the floor and grabbing the muggle cleaning supplies left out. You started scrubbing in such an anger-fuelled rigorous manner that he almost forgot that he was supposed to be helping you.
"You gonna help or not?" you snapped.
His eyes widened, and he couldn't stop a smirk from gracing his lips, "Never thought I'd see the day where goody-two-shoes L/N is in detention and yells at me."
"Would people stop fucking saying that?" you said all too loud, "I hate it. I fucking hate it."
"Hate what?" Mattheo asked delicately, standing up and walking over to grab a cauldron from the pile.
"Being called a goody-two-shoes like I'm some kind of child," you scowled, "I'm sick of being treated like I've never even had a sip of alcohol."
This was the first time since before the war that a muggle-born had even entertained having a full conversation with Mattheo, even if you were filled with rage throughout it. Because of that, he decided that he needed to calm you down and make you actually like him— association with a muggle-born could completely transform his reputation.
"I'm sorry," he said delicately, the words foreign to him, "I didn't realise it hurt you so much."
You stopped scrubbing the cauldron to look up at him with shock evident on your face: had the son of Voldemort just apologised to you? He had to be mocking you, there was no way he wasn't. "You're making fun of me," you said cautiously.
"I'm not, I swear," he held his hands up in surrender, "I know all too well what it's like to not be able to escape a reputation."
"Aren't you in here for getting into a fight?" you raised an eyebrow curiously.
He nodded grimly, "Guy wouldn't stop saying I'm exactly like my father."
And that was when your opinion of Mattheo began to soften, and you started to feel bad for assuming he hated muggle-borns simply because of who his father was. But he did have the Dark Mark.
"If you're not like him, why did you get that?" you gestured towards his left arm, which was covered but everyone knew what sat there.
Mattheo drew back, "He was responsible for genocide, do you really think he was beyond threatening me if I didn't take it?" His words were cold, and angry.
"Sorry," you mumbled, regretting asking such a personal question when you hardly knew him.
Silence fell upon you both for a couple minutes as you polished away at the cauldrons.
"For the record, I didn't ever think you'd only had a sip of alcohol."
You quirked an eyebrow at him, "No?"
He shrugged, "Everyone gets drunk. I just thought you only did it outside of school."
A small smile crept on to your face, "Thank you, mind telling everyone else that?"
"Sure."
You had said it as a joke— you didn't expect him to be so agreeable. "Really?"
He nodded.
"Oh, God, now I feel so bad."
"Why?" Mattheo asked, finding your muggle-speaking mannerisms endearing.
"Because I believed your reputation."
"You don't anymore?"
You shook your head, "This is the first time someone's ever treated me my age."
He tilted his head curiously, "You know, I think we might be able to help each other's reputations."
"You do?"
"Think about it," he shifted closer to you, "People think I hate muggle-borns, you're a muggle-born. People think you're an innocent goody-two-shoes, I'm known for being quite the opposite."
"So...?"
"We date."
Your brain short circuited and you dropped your cloth into the cauldron, "We... date?"
"Not for real," he clarified, "Just until people's views of us are changed."
You thought it over. It was true: no one would think of Mattheo as like his father if he was willingly in a relationship with a muggle-born, and no real goody-two-shoes would date bad boy Mattheo Riddle.
"Okay," you said, holding out your hand, "Let's do it."
The boy smirked, taking your hand, "Perfect."
***
When you arrived at dinner that evening, after a long few hours of cleaning cauldrons until they glistened, it was hand in hand. He squeezed your palm softly as watchful eyes observed the two of you together, and he even tugged you over to the Slytherin table, making you give him a worried look.
"They'll be civil," he leaned down to whisper in your ear. You nodded nervously.
All of his friends were in silence as they watched you take a seat next to Mattheo, and their jaws almost dropped when he began dishing food on to your plate first. You felt embarrassed under their gaze, but you didn't let it show, thanking Mattheo once your plate was full. He gave you a soft smile that you had never seen grace his face before— not that you had ever been close enough to him to see it.
One of his friends, Blaise Zabini, cleared his throat and broke the silence, "So, uh, are you two a thing?"
"Yeah," your 'boyfriend' replied.
"I didn't even know you were courting," Blaise stated simply, clearly suspicious.
"There's a lot of things you don't know," Mattheo said vaguely, "Can't a man have some secrets?"
Silence fell once more.
"Do any of you have a problem?" he asked, the slightest hint of anger lacing his tone.
They all immediately shook their heads.
"Good."
Despite Mattheo's friends being remarkably docile towards you, you could still feel the stare of other people littered around the room. It was quite a shock, you supposed, as you two were probably the last couple anyone would have expected. Regardless, they should really learn to mind their business— if they did, you wouldn't have to be doing a whole fake dating scheme in the first place.
***
Mattheo walked you to class, held your hand in the corridors, and even carried your books for you wherever you went. Stares continued to follow, but people no longer called you a goody-two-shoes: no, instead when you overheard people ask about you, they said "she's Riddle's girl" instead. You would prefer to be thought of as your own person, but it was certainly a step up from the reputation that you were so sick of. That, and Mattheo had informed you that muggle-borns were no longer avoiding him like the plague, even occasionally nodding at him in the hallways. All around, the plan was working.
No one knew that your dating scheme was fake apart from the two of you, even his friends believed it— and, despite your blood status, they were beginning to warm up to you. Pansy especially, and you were grateful to finally have someone that you could consider a friend.
One chilly Tuesday morning, when Mattheo was walking you to your ancient runes lesson, there was another girl in your class being 'dropped off' by her boyfriend. You both watched as he leaned down to peck her lips before leaving, and you didn't think anything of it until you reached the door and Mattheo leaned down to press a soft kiss on your lips. Taken aback, your ears heated up, and you felt shy as he smirked at you.
"What was that for?" you whispered.
The man before you shrugged, "He did it. Can't have people knowing the truth about us."
"They have no reason to suspect it," you grumbled, but you couldn't deny the butterflies swarming around your stomach.
"Better safe than sorry," he grinned cheekily, "I'll see you later, doll, yeah?"
You nodded, caught off guard when he kissed you yet again.
You were in a daze when you entered the classroom, and you knew that everyone could guess why there was a smile plastered on your face. You felt like a lovesick fool, when you weren't even in love.
***
Mattheo had insisted that people would question the validity of your relationship if you didn't go on Hogsmeade dates together: every Hogwarts couple went on dates to Hogsmeade. You had reminded him that people had no reason to question whether or not your relationship was fake, but he had once again shrugged and said, "Better safe than sorry." Not that you minded, of course, you had always wanted to participate in the Hogsmeade dating tradition. Although, it did make you wonder how long this dating scheme would go on for, as Mattheo's reputation was essentially already completely transformed.
"Can we go in Honeydukes?" you asked as Mattheo, like the gentleman he apparently was, helped you down from the carriage.
"Of course," he smiled, not letting your hand go, "Wherever you want, doll."
Your stomach flipped, but there remained an itching notion in the back of your head. It was fake: it was all fake. He was only being so gentlemanly and caring to prove to the school that not only did he not share his father's views on muggle-borns, but that he could dote on one like it was his life's purpose. All he wanted was to no longer be seen as the devil's incarnate, so he presented himself as an angel. But, when he looked at you with that smirk and that glint in his eyes, it would feel real— just for the briefest moment. No one had ever been romantically interested in you before, maybe that's why you felt his actions deep in your core.
"Hello? Y/N?" his voice snapped you out of your drifting thoughts, and you realised that he was talking to you.
"Hm?"
"Thought I'd lost you there," he chuckled, "C'mon, doll— Honeydukes, remember?"
"Yeah, sorry," you looked down abashedly, and his grip on your hand tightened.
"Sometime this year, if that's okay with you."
***
Mattheo's ring-clad hands left a cool trail against your blazing skin, setting your insides alight as you felt wetness pool at your core. He had his signature smirk settled on his face, the smooth curve of his pink lips sending sparks throughout your body. The hazed look in his dark eyes likely mirrored the one in yours— you were getting desperate, revelling in the way he stared at your tits.
"Please, Matty," you murmured, begging for something, anything.
His sinister chuckle made your senses twitch and tingle. "Please what? What do you want, doll?"
"You," you said thoughtlessly, reaching your hands up to grasp on to his shirt.
"I'm all yours," he whispered, his hand trailing down to the inside of your shorts and panties. When he finally made contact with your slick entrance, your hips bucked up, grateful to have finally received some amount of stimulation. "You're so wet for me."
You hummed as he began tracing circles on your clit, forcing out a moaned, "Only for you."
He applied more pressure, making you grasp on to the bedsheets for dear life, unable to physically comprehend the magic feel of his calloused fingertips. The smirk on his face returned as he watched you writhe beneath him, and you felt your peak approaching faster than you had imagined was possible. Everything about it felt so right, so perfect, so erotic.
"You gonna come for me, angel?" he asked, his eyes locked on to yours.
You nodded.
"Then come."
And just as you felt your muscles begin to tighten and the pleasure begin to climax, the moment was cut short.
***
You were in bed, that much was still the same, but there was no sign of a Slytherin descendant anywhere in your vicinity, and your tits were not out in the open, being enclosed within your large pyjama shirt. You groaned, feeling the pool of wetness between your legs, but being unable to do anything about it due to your shared dormitory situation. Fuck, Mattheo wasn't even your real boyfriend, and you had just had a godly wet dream about him that lit a match in your soul.
How could you face him after picturing him in such an intimate situation? How could you pretend like you were okay with the surface-level falseness of your façade? He was your doom's day: you could feel it. You should never have agreed to a fake relationship, and remained begrudgingly within your outdated reputation.
Reluctantly, you peeled the covers off of your sweating body, and made your way to the showers.
***
Avoiding him was just as impossible as being around him. For one, you couldn't risk people questioning the stability or realness of your relationship. For two, the second you entered the Great Hall for breakfast, he was beckoning you over to where his friends were. And you couldn't very well ignore him when he had done absolutely nothing wrong.
"Hey, doll," he greeted you, pecking your cheek in the process. The very action made the flame burn brighter.
"Hi," you all but squeaked, focusing your attention on taking some waffles.
"We were just discussing the next quidditch game."
"It's a guaranteed win for Slytherin," Zabini smirked, knowing full well that the team that they would be playing against was your house's.
You scrunched up your nose, "I wouldn't be so sure."
"Are you not even gonna wear my jumper during the game?" Mattheo asked, sending yet another sparking bolt straight through your veins. You could feel your body heating up just by being in his presence.
"Against any other house I would, but I have to draw the line somewhere," you said, hoping your voice sounded completely normal and not at all like you craved his naked form. Unfortunately, the appeal of wearing a clothing item that would have his scent woven into its fabric was not helping your case.
"Pity," he grumbled.
Thankfully, Zabini challenging your opinion that Slytherin wasn't guaranteed to win led to a wonderfully distracting argument with the rest of the Slytherin boys. Not only was it a distraction, but it also made you feel as if they saw you as an equal, not just as a muggle-born, but in age and lack of innocence as well. It was a stupid notion, but it was the kind of treatment that you had desired for so long.
"I can't stand this quidditch talk any longer," Pansy finally said, having remained quiet for the majority of the conversation, "Y/N, wanna get away from the men?"
"Please," you murmured, grateful to escape the intoxicating presence of Mattheo.
"Where are you going?" he asked.
Pansy shook her head as she stood up, "Anywhere but here. The girls' toilets if it means getting away from you all."
You giggled, going to stand up. You felt Mattheo's hand grasp your wrist, giving way to tingly sensations reminiscent of last night's dream.
"I'll see you later, yeah?"
"Of course," you nearly stuttered, "We have defence against the dark arts."
He nodded, letting go of your wrist, before saying to Pansy, "Don't keep her too long."
"Calm down, lover boy," she retorted, linking arms with you as you began to walk off.
The last thing you heard from the Slytherin boys was Berkshire saying to Mattheo, "You're pussy-whipped, mate."
Oh, how you wished he was.
***
"I don't know how you managed to lock down prince of the fuckboys Mattheo," Pansy spoke as you both entered the girls' toilets, "And I do see the way he looks at you-"
"The way he looks at me?"
She nodded, "Like you're the only girl in the room— but, please be careful. I don't want you getting hurt."
You knew that it was too late for that, as you had caught feelings in a fake relationship, and it was killing you inside that you couldn't tell anyone about it. All you could do was agree with Pansy. "Thank you for your concern, I appreciate it."
"Of course, we're friends," Pansy smiled, "And I love Mattheo dearly as a friend, but I know his history when it comes to romance and sex."
"People change," you murmured, just loud enough for her to hear.
"That they do," she agreed, "But just be sure of Mattheo's change before you fall madly in love with him."
Somehow you feared it was too late for that.
***
During defence against the dark arts— a theory lesson, unfortunately— you found your seat next to Mattheo as you let Pansy's words mull over you. The anxious pondering that you were in too deep caused you to start nervously bouncing your leg up and down. It was an action that did not go unnoticed by Mattheo, who furrowed his eyebrows at your behaviour. Gently, he placed his hand on your thigh and watched as you froze up at the contact.
Because, little did he know, the simple act of a touch so close to your core sent tingling flashbacks of your dream of him flooding through your veins. Your skin became ablaze with desire, and long gone was the obsessive overthinking about what Pansy had said to you. You sucked in a shallow breath, gripping your quill tightly as you glanced towards Mattheo who was now looking at you with thrice the concern than he was earlier.
"You okay?" he whispered.
You gulped and nodded, but it was clear that he didn't believe you. He squeezed your thigh gently, and you swore that your brain nearly short-circuited— yet you didn't want to push his hand off. This moment was so far removed from the fake external image of your relationship that you temporarily forgot all of your concerns. No one could see where his hand was: it served no purpose towards your reputation as a couple.
Merlin knows you would never be able to recall the content of that lesson.
***
One breezy autumnal afternoon and you were walking down the hallway, hand in hand with Mattheo and giggling about this and that. You had finally pushed Pansy's warning to the very back of your mind, and allowed yourself to almost fully immerse yourself in the moment with your so-called boyfriend. The interlocked nature of your hands felt natural as you paid no mind to bystanders.
That was, until, the unmistakable word of mudblood passed through your ears from the direction of a seventh year Slytherin, who evidently disapproved of your newfound association with the house. It was annoying, really, how your ears always tuned into that word no matter how distracted you were. You paused in your movements and stared at him: you were no longer timid, nor a push-over. Mattheo looked confusedly at you and where you were looking.
"What are you looking at, mudblood?" the seventh year sneered at you, and before you could even say anything, Mattheo's hand had let go of yours.
And he had barrelled right into the boy, throwing merciless punches as his face went stone cold. "Do you wanna say that again, hm?" he spat, landing another solid hit, "Don't ever fucking talk about my girlfriend like that."
You stared in shock at the brawl, feeling a whole wave of mixed emotions— Mattheo was defending you, and by God did he look fucking hot doing it. But, also, you really should break up the fight before he committed manslaughter.
"Mattheo," you said softly, but he didn't hear you, so you said louder and more sternly, "Mattheo."
His movements ceased and he resorted to staring down at the boy who now groaned in pain, covered in blood and already darkening bruises.
"This was a warning," he said carefully, "Next time I won't stop."
You shook your head, grabbing his bicep to pull him off the boy for good and dragging him away. It was lucky there hadn't been a professor around, but they would probably still find out one way or another and Mattheo would get punished. For now, however, he was yours to deal with.
"I can fight my own battles," you bit off, but there wasn't any real malice in your tone.
"I know," he said simply.
You sighed and rolled your eyes, "Thank you, though, for defending me."
"Of course. No one belittles my girl."
Your heart flipped— there was nobody around, there was no reason for him to say that. Deciding to focus your attention in order to ignore the thumping of your heart, you analysed his hands. "We need to get you cleaned up."
"It's just a little blood," he shrugged.
"A little is still too much. C'mon."
You dragged him to the abandoned girls' toilets, where Moaning Myrtle resided, and ran some toilet paper (which had probably been there for decades) under the tap. As you began delicately wiping down the injuries, Mattheo watched you with intrigue, admiring your attention to detail. Little did he know, you were simply trying to stop yourself from replaying the sexiest image you had ever scene in your life inside your head. You felt as if you were about to burst into flames.
Once you were finally done, you chucked the toilet paper into a toilet and re-emerged from the cubicle, making eye contact with the man leaning against the sinks. Moaning Myrtle seemed to be nowhere in sight.
Which was a good thing, because the tension in the air was thick— thicker than blood. You bit your lip as Mattheo's eyes raked down your body and drank you in. Under his gaze, you felt purely animalistic: beauty didn't matter, intelligence didn't matter... all that mattered was skin on skin and bodies becoming one. But, when it became clear no one was going to make a move, you said, "Pansy warned me about you."
"In what way?" he smirked.
"That I shouldn't get in too deep with the prince of fuckboys until I'm sure you've changed."
"And do you think I've changed?"
"What does it matter? We're not actually together."
A flash of hurt coursed through Mattheo at the reminder, but he remained stoic and said, "That's not what I asked, is it?"
You stared at him blankly.
"Do you think I've changed?" he repeated.
You said nothing.
"Because I think I've changed," he stepped closer to you, "So, I'll ask you one more time, do you think I've changed?"
"Yes," you replied feebly.
"My friends think I've changed," he continued, "They think I'm pussy-whipped."
You felt bold for the briefest moment, and asked, "Are you?"
He shrugged, leaning his face down until it was inches from yours, "I don't know yet. Guess we'll have to find out."
And then his lips were on yours in a passionate frenzy. None of those pecks he had given you in greeting and goodbye: no, this was a real kiss, one that had the fire in your heart dancing erratically. You pulled away, breathless, to see that Mattheo was looking at you with hazy dark eyes.
"Was that real?" you asked.
"Well, it happened, didn't it?"
You shook your head, "I mean, was it real?"
A smirk tugged on his lips, "No one was here to see, sweetheart."
And that was all the confirmation you needed to kiss him again, sliding your tongue along his lips as he grabbed your ass, squeezing and groaning. You felt electric, alive— transcendent. His mouth moved from your lips, to along your jaw, to your neck. He sucked and licked in a way that had you letting out a gasp, melting under his touch.
"You're my nicotine," he mumbled, slipping a hand under your skirt and pushing you back against the wall.
You moaned as his fingers glided over your clit.
"You like that, doll?"
Helplessly, you nodded, your legs buckling as he applied more pressure and more vigour.
"Mhm, that's my girl," he murmured, bringing you quicker to your release than you had ever been able to manage yourself.
"Fuck, Matty, I'm gonna come," you gasped out, hips bucking up as you leaned against the tiled wall.
He chuckled as you rode out your high, the slickness of your pussy creating a squelching sound throughout the acoustics of the massive vacant toilets.
"I hate it when my friends call me that," he muttered, pulling his fingers out from under your skirt.
Your ears heated up even more— if that was possible— and you quickly rushed out a, "Sorry."
"Don't be," he kissed your lips softly, "I like it when you say it."
Your lips curved into a shy smile.
"Do you mind if we deal with a certain problem?" he asked, gesturing to the tent in his trousers that had more slick leaking from you at the sight of.
"Of course," you said slyly, a new wave of confidence rushing over you. Slowly, you walked around him and sauntered over to the sinks, pulling your tights and panties down as you leaned forward and lifted up your skirt.
"Fuck," you heard him curse, "You really have changed."
And then he was behind you, as suggested by the sound of a zipper so close to you, and the fact you could see him in the mirror. You watched as he pulled out his dick, which was thick and long, making your mouth water as he lined himself up with your entrance.
"Are you sure?" he questioned, not sure if he could take any answer but 'yes'.
You bobbed your head, "Fuck me, Matty."
"As you wish, doll." And then he was inside you, filling you to the brim and making you feel as if you were finally whole.
"Fuck," you gasped, clutching the edge of the sink as he began thrusting, your eyes tightly shut.
"Look at me."
You opened your eyes, making eye contact with him in the looking glass. Sweat was gathered on his brow, and his hands were tightly on your hips— you felt so close to him, in such a real and authentic way that had your soul burning.
One of his hands moved, retreating out of your view, but you knew exactly where it went when you felt a jolt of pleasure shooting through you. He rubbed circles that had you seeing stars, your moans and curses pushing Mattheo close to the edge along with the pure ecstasy of how you felt around him. He didn't think he had ever been so vocal during sex before, but with you, everything felt brand new. Finally, Mattheo felt like he belonged somewhere, felt like he was nothing like his father— but he had no place in his thoughts at that moment. Instead, he focused on you and the clothed curves of your body, until he was about to explode.
"Can I come inside you?" he panted.
In a sex haze, you moaned, "Yes."
And then his release hit, the throbbing of his dick pushing you to your second orgasm as his movements became sloppy. Eventually, once your highs had been ridden through, he stopped moving, the only sounds remaining being the ones of heavy breathing. When he had pulled out, and you had both cleaned up and done up your clothes, you gave him a teasing smile.
"Are we real now?"
He chuckled, "This was never fake. Not to me."
"Well, then, boyfriend," you smirked, "Better scurry on and get me a Plan B potion."
He pressed a kiss to your lips, "Yes, ma'am."
And he took your hand in his.
———————————————
masterlist
written; 10/04/2024 —> 25/04/2024
published; 25/04/2024
edited; —/—/——
#harry potter#hp oneshot#hp#hp fanfic#harry potter oneshot#harry potter fanfic#mattheo riddle smut#mattheoxreader#mattheo x y/n#mattheo riddle#mattheo x you#mattheo smut#mattheo x reader#mattheo riddle x you#mattheo riddle x reader#mattheo riddle x y/n#mattheo riddle imagine#muggle born reader#fluff and smut#fake dating#8th year
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Rainy Nights
Mattheo Riddle x Reader (fluff)
➸ summary: cuddling with Mattheo on a rainy day in october
➸ warnings/notes: none
word count: 534
————————
THE RAIN HAS been non-stop for almost a week now. Orange leaves turned to mush as the ground became wetter and wetter as the days rolled by.
Floating jack-o-lanterns littered the Great Hall, and soft melodies played in the background, seemingly coming from nowhere.
A cheesy halloween movie played in-front of you as you laid on your boyfriend’s chest, his breathing pattern becoming more relaxed as time passed. The soft pitter patter of rain could be heard outside, even all the way down in the Slytherin dungeons. The fish in the Black Lake could be seen outside of the common room window, their normal habitat too cold for them to stay at the shallow end for too long.
Mattheo caressed your bare arm as the movie continued playing, his eyes closed and not focused on the movie at all.
“Hey, you said you’d pay attention to the movie,” you scolded.
He only grinned in response. His annoyingly pearly teeth clashed against his skin as his smile spread, his eyes opening ever so slightly to gaze at you.
“I never said that,” he replied, turning his head to see you better. “I said I’d let you pick the movie, not that I’d watch it.”
You only rolled your eyes at him. Of course he would find a loophole in his own statement. What a cheeky bastard.
“Okay but you love me and you want to make me happy. So watch the movie.”
The vibrations in his chest indicated that he found your sentence funny. Sitting upright, you raised your eyebrows at him.
“Do I?” he mumbled jokingly.
Fine. He wanted to play this game? You could handle that.
“Ohhh,” you said calmly, trying not to let a smile slip out. “You don’t love me? There shouldn’t be a problem if I told you to sleep in your own dorm tonight then?”
Almost immediately, Mattheo’s face fell.
“Did I say ‘do I’? I meant yes I do my beautiful princess.”
You burst out laughing at his antics. Despite his attitude you noticed that he was actually paying attention to the movie now. His eyes glinted in the dark room, the light from your laptop illuminating his features.
He really was gorgeous. And you always envied his long lashes.
“I don’t think I’m convinced. I think I should sleep here alone…” you said, trying to gauge his reaction.
In an instance you were flipped over, your laptop toppling over at the foot of the bed. Soft, wet kisses were left all over your face as Mattheo trapped you under his arms. You giggled at the ticklish feeling.
“You know I love you,” he said, his voice muffled by your cheek as he pressed his lips to it.
Heart fluttering, you answered him. “I know. I love you too.”
He dropped his head on your chest after he adjusted the laptop to face you guys once again. Listening to your heartbeat, his eyes began to droop again.
“So I can stay here tonight?”
It was a mere whisper, but you caught it anyway.
“You can always stay here.”
Leaving a chaste kiss to his forehead, it wasn’t long before sleep overtook you as well, the movie long forgotten.
#harry potter#mattheo riddle x you#mattheo riddle fluff#mattheo riddle imagine#harry potter fandom#harry potter fanfic#harry potter fanfiction#mattheo riddle fanfic#harry potter imagine#mattheo riddle scenarios#harry potter oneshot#mattheo riddle x reader#mattheo riddle#mattheo riddle oneshot#slytherin reader#slytherin boys x reader#slytherin boys imagine#slytherin boys#hp fanfcition#hp imagine#hp oneshot
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hi! i loved pain over pleasure! especially the part where there’s sexual interactions between the three men other than just focusing on the reader. i’d like to request something slightly similar. reader gets punished by watching sirius suck remus and r can’t do anything than just sit and watch. then james walks in and instead of going to reader to save her from moony’s punishment (like he usually does) he joins the other two. it’s totally okay if you don’t go through with this. i just really loved pain over pleasure. thanks!!!!
Horny Little Devil // Poly!Marauders x Fem!Reader
A/N: Thank you so much for the request and for showing your love with Pain Over Pleasure!
Tags: 18+ readers only, smut, dom/sub, bdsm, brat reader, punishment, teasing, edging, restraints, begging, deepthroat/oral sex, cum swallowing, cum sharing, anal sex, vibrators, overstimulation, subspace, pet names, being ignored, anxiety not beta read
Words:3.3 k
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Needy was the word you would use to describe your feelings today. Sirius on the other hand would describe you as a horny little devil, but could he truly blame you? Dating the three Marauders meant that you were almost always attached to one of them whether it be holding hands, in their laps in front of the fire or on your knees with their cock in your mouth. However this morning, the three of them had been rushing around to attend lessons that they’d forgotten about their poor needy girlfriend so really…could Sirius blame you for wanting to be with them?
Maybe you were being a little full-on with your neediness, instead of whispering and asking nicely to see Sirius, grabbing him by his collar and pushing him into a spare room to suck him off. Sirius only chuckled in a condescending tone, tugging on your hair to snap your attention up to him, your bottom lip sticking out with pretend sadness as he stopped your attempts to undo his belts.
“Stop being such a brat and listen to me, otherwise you aren’t going to get what you want, Darling”.
You sat back on your heels, looking up at him with wide eyes, “You haven’t been giving me what I want, that’s the issue!”
Sirius’ eyes darkened and you knew that sassing back to him maybe wasn’t the best idea so you quickly shut your mouth, a move that seemed to please him as the corner of his lip tipped up into a smirk, his shoulder-length hair falling to shadow half of his face. “I was tempted to let you carry on if you didn’t continue with that smart mouth of yours and anyway, we don’t have time, we’ll probably be late to class now because of this interruption so well done Sweetheart. Now, you’re on your last chance, any more bratty behaviour and you’ll be punished”.
You shrunk away from him, losing your confidence and beginning to stare at the floor, realising your mistake and not wishing to be punished, but you just wanted to feel them. Sirius let go of your hair and tapped a finger under your chin, tilting your face back up so you were looking at him once more, his sleek eyebrow raised in question, “Do you understand me?”
“Yes, sir. I’m sorry Sirius”.
Sirius nodded, holding a hand out which you took and he helped you to stand, brushing the dust from your knees and moved back towards the door but he held you back for one second with a gentle hand on your arm. You looked up at him with a confused expression but soon sighed as he leaned down to peck your lips, lingering for a second before pulling back. “Sorry it’s been such a rush this morning, I promise later we’ll look after you. Just listen to us, and we can all get what we want, ok?”
You agreed with a grin, capturing his lips one more time before he held the door open for you.
Your self-restraint lasted for a mind-blowing 25 minutes. This one really wasn’t your fault though as Remus had decided it was a good idea to rest his strong hand against your thigh, under your skirt, his hot palm directly against your skin. The tallest marauder knew exactly what the touch would do and didn’t remove it even as you turned into a dribbling mess, hugging his arm closer to your body and refusing to do the work because you were so distracted.
“My love, we have an exam at the end of the week, you need to take notes”, Remus whispered against the top of your head, but you ignored him, holding him closer, trying to push his hand higher up your thigh. However, he instead squeezed the muscle, “I know you’re needy right now but need to do your work”, Remus continued to encourage.
“Is someone being a brat again?” Sirius asked from behind as he leaned over his desk towards you and Remus.
Remus kept his voice low as he asked, “Again? She’s been a brat already today?”
“Yeah, we had a little run-in, in the spare classroom on the way here, didn’t we Sweetheart?” Sirius whispered in response. You tried not to whine as your grip relaxed, realising that you’d been caught and there was one thing that Remus and Sirius did not forget was that they always kept to their word.
“Mr Black, is there a problem over there?”, Professor McGonagall’s voice interrupted the quiet conversation.
“No Professor”, Sirius replied cooly, sitting back in his chair.
Remus continued writing for a couple of seconds before saying under his breath, “We’ll talk about this later”.
Only when later came, there was no talking involved. After watching James practice quidditch for an hour or so, Sirius suggested to you and Remus about going to the shrieking shack for some alone time whilst James finished, which you were more than happy to agree to, practically dragging both men by their hands in the direction of the decrepit building.
However, once there, you were stripped of your clothes and tied to the head of the bed with your wrists attached to the posts with both men’s ties and your legs were spread, exposing your soaked pussy.
“Do you remember our earlier conversation?”, Sirius asked, stroking a teasing hand up your inner thigh, already seeing the evidence of arousal with how wet you were.
“Ye-Yes”, you admitted, breathing quickly with increasing anxiety.
“So you know why we are doing this?”, he continued, making sure you had clarification as to why you were being tied up. They always made sure to do this, even when you were misbehaving the most to get to this point, you had to understand why the punishment was taking place and that your safewords were always there to use if needed. It all added to the overall experience and even though there was nothing you wanted more than to be touched and caressed by any of your boyfriends, you trusted them above anyone else and would continue to go through the punishment for this reason.
So after you’d explained why this was happening and reiterated at this could stop at any moment if you wished.
Sirius seemed happy with your answers and glanced over his shoulder at Remus who was sitting in a chair next to the bed, his legs spread wide and a noticeable bulge in his trousers. The man smiled, his scars stretching with the movement as he reached into his pocket and pulled out one of your favourite toys: your rose gold bullet vibrator, a present from James for Valentine's Day. Waving his wand, the vibrator magically floated through the air, only stopping mid-air when the cool metal touched your clit.
Sirius then placed your panties into your mouth to stop you from begging and climbed off of the bed and you had to watch as he approached Remus, his long hair framing his face as he leant down to make out of the other man. From this angle, you could only see the back of Sirius as he leaned over, but you could hear it all, the noises of their lips, the gasps and moans.
Your wrists stung slightly as you tested the hold, tugging on the ties that held you, hoping that maybe one of them would be loosened enough that you could pull free but they only tightened and you stopped your wasted efforts. Collapsing back against the headboard, you tried to calm yourself down but your body felt like it was on fire, sweat already coating it, eyes burning as you didn’t want to blink and miss a single moment of the teasing that was happening.
Even though there was nothing more you wanted at that moment than to be untied and join in with Sirius and Remus, the sight of them touching, and pleasuring one another was something you would store at the back of your mind for days you wanted to make yourself feel better. It was so erotic and hot that your pussy was twitching and clenching around nothing, juices dripping down your perineum, with the destination to soak the sheets.
Sirius dropped to his knees, settling in comfortably before swiftly undoing Remus’ belt, button and zipper and opening the material up, giving him room to reach into the hole of his checkered underwear and expose his throbbing member. As Sirius was on his knees, you were able to see Remus’ impressive cock, standing thick and proud, veins pulsing and ready to be touched.
You must have audibly made a noise as Remus suddenly looked up at you, a look of surprise on his face as he had momentarily forgotten that you were even in the room but then he rolled his wand in between his fingers and smirked. Sirius raised further on his knees, one hand resting against Remus’ thigh and the other holding the base of his cock and finally gave one solid lick up the entire length.
The moment Sirius’ wet tongue touched Remus’ cock, the wand in his hand flicked slightly, magically turning on the vibrator that still floated against your bundle of nerves. You groaned at the sensation, the buzz light and the pressure weren’t enough to drive you crazy just yet but you knew that he was just warming you up, even though you were already thoroughly aroused.
Remus kept his wand pointed towards you, controlling the vibrator, but his other hand was holding back Sirius’ hair, watching as he was hungrily sucking off. It was one thing Sirius prided himself in was the lack of gag reflex he had, being able to take the entire length of Remus, something you could never do and envied the Gryffindor for.
You tried to beg around your panties but all that could be heard was muffled cries, the material making your mouth incredibly dry so you tried to look sadly at Remus, your eyes sad and lower lip trembling as your hips rolled to try and push harder against the floating metal object, wishing to feel more.
Sirius’s head bobbed up and down quickly, his cheeks sucking and causing slurping noises that felt so good to Remus, his shaft throbbing with the movements. “Feel so good when you do that Padfoot, just like that”, Remus encouraged, letting his eyes drop close. “Do you think we should let our little pup join us?” Remus asked, still lost in the pleasure.
Sirius pulled off with an audible pop, a grin spreading across his face - not that you could see from your position - and responded with a simple: “Nope”, before swallowing Remus’ cock again.
Remus bite his lip at the sensation and opened his eyes as he flicked his wand again, the vibrations increasing tenfold, completely overwhelming your entire pussy, feeling them deep in your abdomen causing you to scream out in euphoria. Your body jolted at the pleasure, hips bucking wildly, pussy clenching, wishing it was full with fingers or a cock. Not that you truly were fussy at that moment as your orgasm built swiftly, feeling like a cord tightening in your abdomen, the walls of your cunt squeezing together, you were so close, still watching Sirius pleasure Remus, who had now opened his eyes and was watching you closely, assessing when you were just…about…to … cum.
And then he magiced the vibrator away from your body and your peaked fluttered away to nothingness, and now it truly dawned on you what sort of punishment they were giving you: edging. This was one of your least favourite punishments, especially added to the fact that you had to watch your boyfriends find their own pleasures.
Your thighs were trembling as you cried out, head dropping against your shoulder as you tried to regain some composure but then the vibrator was back on the low setting and pressing against your clit.
Your mewling begs were cut off however as James walked in, still wearing his quidditch uniform and a small sly smile on his face as he took in the sight of you tied to the bed, being pleasured by the sex toy and Remus being blown by Sirius on a chair.
“I could hear her from outside”, he admitted towards Remus before heading towards the bed, sitting at the edge near you. “Poor baby, you look so desperate, do you want some help?”, he cooed, stroking a hand up your inner thighs.
You nodded your head desperately, moaning wishing you could say yes yes yes. James thankfully was usually the one to give in to your begging, always undoing your restraints first, or helping you find your satisfaction so seeing him here now, you had no doubts that he would be doing the same for you now, after all, he hadn’t really seen you being a brat today.
All hope was lost however as he leaned forward, kissed your cheek and walked over to his boyfriends, dropping to his knees beside Sirius who had sifted to the side, giving him some room, and he began to pleasure Remus as well.
You groaned in frustration, realising you were very much stuck there and had to watch a sight you wanted to desperate be a part of.
Sirius and James licked up the length of Remus’ cock, both men then making out around the tip and you don’t know who groaned louder, you or Remus. Then whilst one man swallowed the thick length, the other would be sucking on the balls, working together to bring Remus to his own orgasm.
All the whilst, Remus kept up his torturous game of turning up the vibration level and just as you were about to cum, taking all the pleasure away.
3 times he had done this now, your juices were leaking onto the sheets below, your entire body trembling as you begged in your mind to please let you cum but of course, they didn’t let you. Your cunt was beginning to become puffy with stimulation and your throbbing clit was aching from the toy and you’d physically jolt and pull away as it always came back to hover against you. You were exhausted, your body drained of energy, your head feeling fuzzy and floaty as your needs drifted your thoughts into a space-like consciousness.
But you still continued to watch your boyfriends, hoping that the small act would mean your punishment would be over quicker because you were continuing to be good but it only made it harder to stay calm. You felt like you were just in the constant heightened state of being wanting to cum, hardly having much time to rest.
Remus suddenly shifted, his hips thrusting up harshly into the back of James’ mouth, his hand releasing its hold on Sirius’ hair to instead hold onto the back of James, keeping his head there, “Fuck Prongs, that’s it, stay right there”, he grunted, his eyes clenching closed as he came. James held still, taking the load to the back of his mouth and only pulling back when Remus sighed, his hand relaxing and letting go of the back of his head. “Did you swallow?” Remus asked with half-lidded eyes.
You couldn’t see but you knew that James had opened his mouth and revealed that he hadn’t swallowed because the next moment he was leaning over and heavily kissing Sirius, his cum coated tongue swiping against the other mans so they both had to swallow.
Remus groaned at the sight, tucking his half-soft, wet cock back into his trousers, trying to also catch his breath before glancing over the men towards you and you couldn’t hold back the sob anymore, not wishing to ruin the moment but seeing his attention had turned to you, it was almost too much.
You’d been edged against during his orgasmic scene, you were starting to become sore with belly aches with how much you’d been clenching your cunt and wanting to feel that high more than anything in the world.
Standing from his chair and rolling his shoulders, Remus stepped between his two boyfriends and finally came out to you, shimming behind your body so your back was against his chest. Your head lolled back against his shoulder as he nuzzled into your neck, reaching around your front so that he could pull out your panties from your mouth, the cool air drying your mouth further as you didn’t have the energy to close it.
“You’ve done so well sweetheart, do you want to cum? I’m gonna need you to tell me”, Remus whispered against the skin of your cheek, hands idly stroking circles against your stomach as he spooned around your body.
You were nodding tiredly before even talking, half aware that deep moans were coming from the other end of the bed from James being bent over and fucked by Sirius. “Please can I cum, Remus?” you asked, voice croaky from exhaustion and dryness.
“What do you think Padfoot?” Remus asked, looking up at Sirius who was slowing his pace, his hips rolling in and out, teasing James who was touching himself from his bent-over position.
Sirius blew a piece of hair from his face as he looked over at you, feeling somewhat sorry that you’d been edged for so long, “yeah go on then, seeing as she’s been such a good girl”.
You wanted to thank him profusely for his beautiful words but couldn’t muster up the energy to say them, instead completely allowing your body to relax back into Remus. Your boyfriend's long fingers delved over your mound, groaning at how wet and used you were.
“You’ve done so well for us pup, I’m not going to stop ok, you can cum for us”, Remus reassured as he pressed two fingers against your overstimulated clit, rolling it in his fingers, back and forth, the pressure firm and steady. With his other hand, he waved his wand again and all of your restraints untied so you were now fully collapsed against him, eyes closed, mouth open with a string of curses and whimpers escaping.
It didn’t take you long at all, still remaining at that heightened-edged sensation, Remus held you close as you finally came, body spasming as you were so overwhelmed with how to react and control yourself. “That’s it, let go for us, I’ve got you”, Remus continued to encourage and you were thankful for this, letting his voice ground you to the moment.
It felt so good to feel your cunt squeezing in quick bursts, juices coating the tops of your trembling thighs, and your entire body felt like it was burning as your nerves tried to comprehend the stimulation. Finally, as your orgasm began to subside, Remus’ fingers slowed to a stop and you fully collapsed into him, half away that he was moving your body so you were cuddled into his side, legs over his lap and head laying against his chest.
You were just about ready to have a little nap when you heard James gasping as Sirius pounded into him and you forced yourself to stay awake a little bit longer so you could watch both men fuck.
Remus could feel you were still awake as he kissed the top of your head, “pretty aren’t they”, he mumbled against you.
“Mmmm, so so pretty”, you agreed as you watched them both from their standing position, giving Sirius the better position to fuck James and reach around his body to wank his cock off as well, after a few more grunts, James was cumming hard, his seed spurting out in thick gloops across the bed.
Sirius pushed the quidditch player over the bed once more, the man now lying in his own cum and began mercilessly fucking his arse, chasing his own high, James moaned through the entire interaction before Sirius’ hips stilled with a hard yell and slap to James’ ass cheek.
Finally, after watching all three men reach their highs during that afternoon, you felt settled enough to fall asleep in Remus’ arms, knowing that when you woke up, you might be feeling a little bit subspacey but that was a problem for another time.
#poly!marauders#the marauders#james potter smut#sirius black smut#remus lupin smut#sirius black x reader#james potter x reader#remus lupin x reader#marauders x reader#mine*#hp smut#hp oneshot
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Hello lovely! I was wondering if you could please write an enemies to lovers Sirius x reader fanfic where they're always bickering and arguing but one day, reader seems rather numb and he makes an obnoxious comment like "Trouble in paradise, princess?" and they get mad and say "Oh, get f, Black! Easy for you to have a go, isn't it? Why do we always have to talk about my shitty life, Mr. Tell Me A Fucking Secret?" and the reader storms off and he finds out that they're brother died? Sorry if that doesn't make any sense and i fully understand if you don't want to do it. Don't forget to drink water and have a great day :) 💞
'an apology' - sirius black
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Everyone likes Sirius Black. Everyone but you, it seems. You’re not sure how in Merlin’s name he managed his widespread popularity. Maybe there was a secret prank of the Marauders a while back in which they jinxed everyone in the school to grow besotted with the long-haired, mischievous, good-for-nothing scoundrel, then accidentally forgot to cast the enchantment on you. It wouldn’t even be that unrealistic, except there’s absolutely no chance that Sirius hasn’t picked up on your disregard for him. In fact, if you didn’t know any better, you’d say that he enjoys it.
Of course he would. Of course Sirius Black, Quidditch star, Marauder, prankster extraordinaire, absolutely reckless and divinely insensible Sirius Black would get a kick out of riling you up. How could he not? It’s like it’s against his programming to do anything that makes sense.
The two of you have been clashing since the day you met. No matter where you are– walking to class, accidentally paired up for a class project, meandering through Hogsmeade– you and Sirius have a knack for finding each other even in the thickest of crowds, and then promptly wanting to murder each other. You squabble over small things, like tying one’s tie incorrectly, and big things too, like when Sirius pranked you too hard one time and it took the entirety of the Marauders and your friend group working in tandem to prevent a genuine slaughter.
Needless to say, every day in which you can avoid running into Gryffindor’s favorite troublemaker is a good one. Needless to say, in a small castle like Hogwarts, that task is pretty much impossible. Even when you pledge to yourself that you’re going to pick the high road and stop letting yourself get riled up by him, you still somehow manage to get yourself lodged in yet another petty dispute.
Today, though, you really don’t want to see him. You woke up this morning to terrible news from home. Professor McGonagall had called you into her office to deliver the solemn verdict herself. Although she can be a terrifying presence, you’re glad for her today. This way, there wasn’t anyone else around but her when you found out that your brother had died.
It seems impossible. You can picture your brother in your mind– laughing, smiling, running around– and the idea that he could be dead is nonsensical. You would know, you think. Surely you would know. If a bright light like your brother could be snuffed out overnight, you would have been able to feel it. Yet you didn’t, and the world is still spinning, and you are expected to get yourself up and keep on living even though your brother is no longer here. You’ll never be able to see him again, never hear him call your name whenever you go home. He’s gone, gone forever, and you can’t think about anything else but him.
Professor McGonagall, surprisingly, is a good person to help you with loss. She listens to you brokenly sob for a while, then lets you stay in her office for as long as you need to stop crying. She offers you some biscuits, which are only mildly stale, and offers to write you a note to get out of her class, at least, although she can’t speak to the rest of her fellow professors.
You thank her, then head out. Although the idea of curling up in your bed for the rest of the day and perhaps the rest of the year as well is quite tempting, you know that if you let yourself go into misery, you’ll never be able to claw yourself out. You decide to go on with the rest of your classes for the day, as much for the distraction of not being alone with your thoughts as anything else.
You can quietly tell your friends what happened, and they’ll make sure nobody bothers you. Your brother died. Nothing seems to matter anymore. The idea that someone like Sirius Black might try to cause you trouble is almost laughable. Your brother is gone. What can a classroom bully possibly say to you to make this worse?
Sirius Black is getting bored again. He always starts idling halfway through Charms, anyway, but it’s not like that’s his fault. Flitwick should know better than to put oil lamps in front of his students, anyway; yes, they were supposed to be practicing discretion with their incendiary charms, but what does Sirius care about that? Besides, the fire he started only lit Peter’s sleeves on fire, and they managed to snuff that out pretty quick anyway. No damage done, not really.
By the time the day is halfway over, Sirius is itching for something interesting to happen. James is shaking his head and laughing at Sirius’ impatience, chiding him for not paying attention, but Sirius has seen his best friend’s eyelids drooping more than once today, so it looks like both of them are stifled for entertainment.
Sirius can tell that it’s gotten bad, because he’s hardly stepped out of the Great Hall after lunch when he spots Y/N L/N trailing down one of the corridors, and he actually starts grinning ear to ear. Y/N’s a fascinating person. They argue with Sirius like there’s no tomorrow. Sirius regards Y/N as an ever-changing maze to solve. Every time he thinks he’s hit a wall with ways to bother her, he finds something else. It’s delightful. He’s kind of obsessed with her.
So, upon seeing her, it should come as no surprise that Sirius would bid a hasty farewell to his friends and hurry to catch up with her. Usually, Y/N’s quick to shoot him a glare whenever she sees him, but this time she hardly seems to notice him when Sirius appears by her side. Strange, but he can change that.
“Good afternoon, sweetheart,” he says glibly. “I’ve missed you since I saw you yesterday, you know.”
Sirius pauses expectantly, waiting for Y/N to hit him with a rather devious comeback about how she’d rather walk over hot coals than willingly spend time in his company, but instead, she just keeps walking. Her shoulders are hunched, and her gaze is somewhat vacant, as if her mind were a thousand miles away. The quick thought flashes through Sirius’ mind that maybe she’s thinking about some guy, like maybe another student flirted with her earlier today and she’s distracted by it, and immediately his gut twists over with hot, white, irritation.
Fine, then. If she wants to ignore him, Sirius will make that impossible. He can up his game. “Tell me a secret,” Sirius drawls, each word slow and silvery like the smoke he loves so much, “What’s got a pretty face like yours looking so twisted up? I know it can’t be anything too terrible, I don’t think it’s possible for you to worry that sweet head over anything major. Don’t tell me you’ve gotten yourself into some trouble in paradise, princess. I just won’t believe it.”
That does get Y/N to look at him, but the sharp glance she directs at him is full of not anger but pain, pure pain. “Shut up,” she hisses at him. “Don’t you ever get tired of messing with me? Easy for you to have a go, isn’t it? Why do you always have to dig into my life, Mr. Tell Me A Fucking Secret? Leave me alone.”
With that, Y/N abruptly turns and stalks down a nearby corridor. Sirius watches her leave with absolute astonishment. They’ve had some verbal sparring matches which have turned nasty, to be sure, but never before has she looked at him with that much loathing. Worse than that– Sirius swears that he’d caught sight of some tears in her eyes when she’d regarded him with such misery.
Impossible. Y/N has never actually been hurt by anything he’s said to her. Right? No, she hasn’t. Sirius would know. This must mean that something has happened, something bad. Across the corridor, Sirius catches sight of one of Y/N’s friends looking at the scene he’d just caused with great distress. When she realizes Sirius has noticed her, she makes to follow Y/N, but he quickly stands in her way to keep her there.
“What’s going on?” Sirius asks plainly. No use in beating around the bush.
Y/N’s friend looks away. “None of your business, Black. Y/N’s right, how about you leave her alone for the time being?”
Sirius swears he can feel something break in his chest, some tendon plucked like a bowstring. “What are you talking about? What do you know?”
Y/N’s friend tries to get away again, but when it becomes evident that Sirius will not be leaving without an explanation, she sighs and gives in. “Y/N found out this morning that her brother passed away.”
She doesn’t say anything else. She doesn’t have to say anything else. Instantly, Sirius feels rooted in place, struck by an awful wave of guilt. Y/N must be drowning in grief, and he’s just gone and teased her even worse. Merlin, she must hate him if she didn’t already.
When he looks up, he realizes that her friend is gone. Slowly, Sirius goes down the corridor he’d last seen Y/N, carefully checking every door and room in search of her. After a while, he finds her sitting on the ledge of a window, knees tucked up against her chest. The afternoon light falls on her face, revealing fresh tear tracks. Sirius’ heart thuds dully against his ribs, the unenviable guilt rising up to choke him once again.
She looks up when Sirius drifts closer, and her face twists. She flinches as if she’d like to run, but Sirius raises his hands hastily. “I’m not here to fight, honest. I wanted to apologize.”
Y/N regards him suspiciously. “Since when have you ever apologized?”
Sirius winces. “You’re right, I’ve been terrible. It’s just– Merlin, Y/N, I had no idea. I’m so sorry about your loss. I wouldn’t have said a thing if I had known, I promise.”
“So you would have been fine to belittle me like usual, but since you found out I– I lost my brother, you feel bad? Perfect. Now leave me alone.” She says tersely.
Sirius grimaces. “I didn’t mean it like that. Just– I have a brother too, you know? Even though we don’t quite get along, I can’t imagine losing him. The fact that you’re still able to get up and walk around is amazing to me. I think you’re really strong.”
Y/N stares at him, but some of the defensiveness is gone from her gaze. “Really?”
“Really,” he affirms. “This is a terrible thing to have happened to you, and I’m so sorry that you have to go through this. Losing family is awful. Just know– I’m here if you want to talk, alright? I know you probably hate me for everything, and I wouldn’t blame you for it, but if you want someone, I’ll be around.”
Y/N stays silent, and Sirius takes that as his cue to leave. Just as he turns to go, though, he hears a soft voice behind him. “You can stay.”
Sirius looks back at her hopefully. “Yeah?”
“I’ll allow it,” Y/N tells him, but the corner of her mouth starts to quirk up a little into a somber half-smile, so Sirius realizes that he’s okay again, that they’re okay again. It feels far better than he could have imagined.
He takes a seat on the ledge opposite Y/N, and they both look out over the view of the grounds below them. Or– Y/N does, really. Sirius is more distracted by the girl in front of him. There are some things he’s starting to realize about her, about how he feels about her. It’s a good thing he has her forgiveness, so he has the time to think a little more about it.
harry potter tag list: @blondsauduun, @cameronsails, @neewtmas, @lovesanimals0000, @with-inked-solace, @sher-lokid7, @eclliipsed, @frenchgirlinlondon, @23victoria, @ilovexavierthrope, @faerieroyal
all tags list: @wordsarelife
#sirius black#sirius black imagines#sirius black x reader#sirius black oneshot#harry potter#harry potter imagines#harry potter oneshot#hp#hp imagines#hp oneshot#marauders#marauders imagines#marauders oneshot#sirius#sirius imagines#sirius oneshot
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-- we'll be alright; marauders era!sirius black (x remus lupin) x reader
cw: angst no comfort, implied wolfstar, not proofread (?)
masterlist | rules
"so you'll accept his help and not mine?"
"he's my friend,"
"and i'm your girlfriend,"
"don't do that,"
"do what?" i burst, my arms thrown out in frustration, "you said to communicate more about the things that bother me, so i am, just like you wanted because god forbid i 'lose it' in front of your friends,"
sirius is quiet, running his hand down his face as he scans the living room, smiling sadly at james' family members as they retreat to the living room to give him and i space to talk properly.
"you," my chest heaves with a heavy sigh, "you expect so much of me, and yet you can't deliver the same expectations you demand of me. merlin, sirius, i just want you to talk to me about things the same way you do with your friends, i can't keep feeling like you walk around eggshells with me when it comes to talking about how you feel. losing james and lily hurts me too, but i can't talk about it with you because you shut me down everytime i try to," i inhale shakily, "and yet, with remus, you do it so effortlessly -"
"because he's my friend," sirius replies, a familiar hint of frustration pouring out of him, "there are things you won't understand, even if you're my girlfriend,"
"ex-girlfriend," i say firmly, the words leaving me before i could think about it fully, ignoring how sirius' eyes snapped up to look at me as i began to pack the small bag i brought with me to the potters' funeral service, swinging it over my shoulder.
"what?" he asks incredulously, "come on darling, let's talk about this,"
"i tried, sirius," i laugh humorlessly, "i tried talking about it with you so many times, and i'm tired,"
"darling, i -"
"i know, sirius," i stand in front of the back door, my hand on the knob and i stare at the intricate glass designs on the panes on the door, "i know about you and...remus,"
sirius is quiet for a while, and it's like i could hear the cogs turning in his head if i listened hard enough.
"whatever do you mean?" i hear his mutter weakly.
"he loves you, sirius, and i know you love him too, in ways i could only wish to understand," i look over my shoulder at him one last time, and out of the corner of my eye, i see remus - my dear friend, my poor, helpless friend that looked like he was about to collapse if he stayed to witness sirius and i's relationship crumble to the ground. i don't think he could bear losing another companion - not so soon after james and lily.
merlin knows he would blame himself, and he would continue to do so even when everyone involved has moved on. hell, the pair of them will wallow in their guilt, no matter how much reassurance i give them.
we humans can all be a little emotional anyway. i could never blame them, i could never blame a person for what they feel, and i certainly won't stop them from facing them if it was what they wished.
he lurked by the open kitchen door, "if anything," i take yet another deep, calming breath, "i think you two are the ones to have a talk, a proper talk without running away from each other,"
i push open the door, stepping out into the cold autumn night, and i hear hushed whispers as i stand in the garden for while, inhaling the cold air.
"at least let us escort you home," remus says timidly, laying a coat over my shoulders.
"no need, remus," i pat his cheek, pulling the cardigan tighter around my body, "you two be safe, yes?"
without waiting for an answer from him, i turn to face sirius, "i'll be moving back in with mary, so you don't need to worry, i'll be out of the house in 3 days at most,"
my last words meld into a gasp as sirius pulls me into one last hug, his face buried into the crook of my neck and with shaking hands, i hug him back tightly, inhaling the smell of his cigarettes, that overpriced cologne he always bought, and just barely concealed firewhiskey.
"i'm so -"
"hush now," i pat his back, "i'll be fine sirius," i murmur with a slight tremor in my voice, " we'll be alright,"
oh how untrue those words would turn out to be.
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Beautiful Ruiner, Damn My Ashes
George Weasley x Reader Smut 18+
A standalone fic from the We Stood In the Sun (Before It Exploded) series.
Genre: Smut, Angst(?)
Content Warnings:
NSFW
Grief
Word Count: 1,296
He panted heavily, his chest heaving as he groaned out in both anguish and pleasure, the feeling of your nails raking down his back somehow splintering him and bringing him to life all at once.
God, you were ruinous.
The way you looked up at him when he touched you like this, filled you like this, it was addictive, life altering, something he could not live with nor without.
You would be the end of him,
And oh what a cruel and beautiful fate that would be.
The crescents of your nails stamped permanently into his skin, your voice the last thing to play before his ears, and your body beneath his the final thing his eyes would ever see,
How could he dare to argue with such a lecherous end to his life? Such a fruitful lust, as long as it culminated in him seeing the stars that played behind your eyelids when you finally came undone for him.
So beautiful,
So heartbreaking,
So necessary,
So incredibly ruinous in Every. Single. Way.
The end of all ends,
The beginning of all beginnings,
Your body, your pleasure, you.
He felt guilt begin to build in his chest as he watched you, brushed the hair out of your face and behind your ear as you whimpered pitifully beneath his body, helpless to his never ending barrage of fulfilling thrusts as he penetrated you to the hilt
over and
over
and
over
again.
He growled harshly at his own uncontrollable thoughts,
His own uncontrollable needs,
And quickly took your chin between his thumb and forefinger, watching as you opened your eyes to meet his familiar, cold gaze.
But he was so struck at what he saw within those eyes that his hip-bruising voracity waned, and his own orbs widened in surprise,
There was hope there, pride, joy, and something else he could not put his finger on,
Or rather, something that he did not want to put his finger on,
But, no matter,
They were rather occupied at the moment anyhow.
But those eyes,
So beautiful, so shiny even in the dimmed light of his bedroom, where only the dying bulb of his bedside lamp and the moon could light his path to salvation,
(to you).
He was awestruck.
There was silence in his mind for a few moments, as he stared down at your body, at the place where the two of you were connected as one, despite everything he had done, and everything that he had not.
But then, noting his slowed thrusts and sudden lack of urgency, you mewled for him in a way that made his mind race, those claws of yours moving from his back to his hips to pull and scratch at them, causing them to stutter before speeding up once more.
Surely you would kill him like this, oh beautiful ruiner, damn far more than his soul, but even his ashes to Hell for the thoughts you caused him to have.
He was ruined for anyone save for this woman who laid before him, that was for certain.
And all of his feelings for you, the hatred, the annoyance, the fondness, the admiration, and that one other thing he had seen in your eyes...
They made it so hard to focus, so hard to forget, and he couldn’t help but wonder what else he was doing this for if not that.
Why was he buried within you, gasping for air, pressing his sweaty forehead against your own and almost smiling, if not to forget?
He could not bring himself to answer the question, but he could bring himself to push it away, and drown himself in you,
And so he did.
George began to thrust his hips into yours even harder, his finger tips digging into your ass and hips with a bruising force as he lifted you towards him for better access, desperate to be connected, and desperate to be whole again.
You gave him all that he could ask for and more, and he hissed when he felt you press closer, your ankles locking around his hips as you squeezed your thighs tighter to his body, your head falling back in what he prayed was bliss.
You were a perfect sight to behold, such beautiful damnation, as if you were made solely for his eyes to see.
Suddenly,
Cursing, gasping, growling, George came deep inside of you, his hands shaky as he lowered you to the bed completely, slowly severing the connection between your bodies.
It was cold all alone, so cold when he couldn’t feel you, that he had half a mind to bury himself inside your heat once more, and just forget about the outside world.
But before he could, you spoke, confusion in your voice as you raised your hand to his face to brush some of his over-grown ginger locks away from his eyes.
“George?”
You asked softly, and your voice made him shiver far more than the coldness of this lonely world outside of you ever could.
“Yes?”
He replied quietly, as if afraid he would frighten you away if he spoke too loudly.
“Why wont you kiss me again?”
George felt his eyes widen at your words, and they swept over your form slowly as his mouth began to form a response,
“I can’t, it wasn’t fair when I did before. It wasn’t real, it was just hungry, and cruel, and I won’t do that to you again. I’m not a monster, Y/n. I’m not.”
His words were spoken more to reassure himself than you, and he knew that, but even so he looked towards you once more to see your reaction, and the sorrow and everything else, unchanged from before, that could be found within your eyes was very nearly too much for him to bear.
Especially that unnamed emotion, the one that made his stomach clench in fear.
You raised your fingers, adept and nimble, familiar and haunting, to his face once more, this time framing his cheek and stroking it gently with your thumb as you spoke, sympathy so evident within your tone that it should’ve made George angry,
But this time it only hurt.
“Oh but George,”
You murmured, and he panicked as your familiarity started to fade, and that emotion he could not, would not, name, began to bleed away from your gaze,
“If that’s true, then why are you here?”
Ice cold fear clutched at George’s chest as your body beneath him vanished, your warmth replaced with an oh so familiar nothingness that made him want to weep for not just what he had lost, but for what he had never even had the opportunity to lose in the first place.
He was so lost in the darkness, with nothing and no one there, and he called out your name for what felt like hours with absolutely no response but his own voice echoing back at him, reminding him of his sins, and his atrocities born from grief.
He awoke in his bed gasping for air, his heart pounding in his chest as he sat up quickly, looking around for someone in his darkened bedroom, the only light being that of the moon, which poured in past his open curtains.
Fred was not there,
You were not there,
He was completely alone, and the world was cold again, outside of you.
And there was nothing to do now but lay awake and remember your warmth while ignoring that feeling of guilt as it grew stronger and stronger inside of him, because he knew
He would never find that emotion in your eyes anywhere outside of his dreams,
And you were not his to dream of in the first place.
“Beautiful ruiner, what have you done to me?”
MASTERLIST
Here is where I keep my tag lists, whether they’re permanent or just for a specific series or character. If you would like to be added to my taglist let me know and I’ll add you :)
#We Stood In the Sun (Before It Exploded)#WSITS(BIE)#george weasley x reder#george weasley x reader smut#george weasley smut#george weasley x you#george weasley fanfiction#george weasley fic#george weasley fics#harry potter smut#harry potter fics#harry potter x reader fanfiction#harry potter x reader#hp x reader#hp fics#hp smut#weasley twins#weasley smut#standalone fic#hp oneshot#george weasley oneshot
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Made it into a oneshot on ao3
The TT’er gave me permission!! Give them some love if you’ve got tt (link)
#hp oneshot#hp short#hp#hp marauders#marauders#remus lupin#sirius black#lily evans#james potter#wolfstar#the black brothers#regulus black#the perks of being a wallflower
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Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Regulus Black/James Potter, Regulus Black & Harry Potter, Harry Potter & James Potter, Regulus Black & Luna Lovegood, James Potter/Lily Evans Potter (past/mentioned), Luna Lovegood & Harry Potter
Characters: Regulus Black, James Potter, Harry Potter, Luna Lovegood
Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Muggle, Alternate Universe - No Voldemort, Fluff, Minor Angst, Harry is a little kid, (and so is Luna), minor mentions of abuse, (but very minor), Getting Together, First Kiss, Domestic Fluff
Summary:
After leaving his family for good, Regulus Black moves in with James Potter, who agrees to give him a place to stay as long as he looks after James's six-year-old son, Harry.
Even though they haven't talked about it, Regulus knows that he'll have to leave when Harry goes back to school, no matter how much he wishes this wasn't the case. Between spending time with Harry and Luna, the weird girl who lives up the street, and the more-than-friendly feelings he's starting to have for James, the summer can only end badly.
Right?
~
as i say in the end notes, i’ve had this fic in my head for a while now - as in, like months. i’ve spent the last few weeks trying to write it and finally got something i’m happy with, which i decided to post on ao3. i have some ideas for how this universe could continue, but i don’t have plans to write them out any time soon, so for now i hope you enjoy this oneshot :)
it’s longer than most of my other oneshots, which are usually under 2k, while this one is nearly 5k, and while i might be biased, i think it’s worth the read.
#harry potter#hp fandom#hp fanfic#jegulus#jegulus raising harry#james potter#regulus black#luna lovegood#hp oneshot
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a new change (an hp boys imagine)
an hp boys react to FtM reader (she just transitioned)
reminder: if you are transphobic, you ARE NOT welcome here!
H.J.P:
Harry would be supportive no matter what- he was perfectly fine with your transition and tried to help you as much as possible! If you were getting bullied or teased, he would be in ultra-Gryffindor mode and stand up for you :) Honestly I don’t think he would want you to feel bad about your identity AT ALL :)
R.B.W:
Ron was eating a chicken leg (duh) when you told him about your coming out, and he was really happy for you. Before your coming out you were always unsure of your identity and would constantly be bullied for it. Your transition didn’t stop the bullying, but with some help from Fred and George, Ron was able to get them to stop pestering you. Ron is totally fine with you being FtM and even shows you off to his friends as “his amazing lover”!
C.A.D:
This guy is the definition of sunshine and cinnamon rolls. He instantly knew about your transition even when you didn’t tell him, and he was so glad you were happy and knew who you were. One day in the Great Hall, some Slytherins went up to you and bullied you for being trans. Instantly, Cedric was at your side and managed to scare them off with the help of his Hufflepuff mates. Never get on Ceddy’s bad side!
D.L.M:
Rephrase. Never get on Draco’s bad side. When you were being bullied for being unsure of your identity, he was always ready to beat someone up! He would comfort you tons if you were upset. He was totally okay with you being FtM and would spend time with you discussing your feelings like your personal cute therapist! Nobody would mess with you after he beat the bullies up.
N.F.L:
Neville has always been very confused with himself and the things h around him. That’s partially why he doesn’t have the most friends, and is a common bullying target for Slytherins. That’s why he was very much understanding whenever you came to him for advice, and he was actually the one who helped you realize your identity. After you transitioned, he was always by your side and tried to build up some confidence to stand up for you if you were being bullied :)
F.G.W:
Fred is totally understanding and is overall a mischievous but nice guy. He would never make fun of your identity, not even in jokes, because he gets that it’s sensitive for you since you are actually being bullied about it sometimes. He would for sure team up with George and prank those students really badly- Molly wouldn’t even reprimand them for doing so, she understands that they’re giving you a lot of confidence.
G.F.W:
I have a feeling that George would be particularly attracted to confident people, but if his lover wasn’t confident, he would help them out of their shell and change them for the better. That’s what he did when you came to him, frustrated and in tears, because of how confused you were. He helped you through everything since he is known to be the more responsible and sensible twin out of him and his brother’s little duo.
B.Z:
Blaise is always chill and composed. He was very much mindful of your emotions and was also one of the types of boys that would help you realize your identity. He’d make sure everyone in Hogwarts knew your pronouns and etcetera, never letting them be mean to you or even tease you. His friends might make some comments here and there, but with Blaise’s help, you can always brush those off, knowing his friends don't exactly mean it.
T.M.R:
Tom would be a bit surprised if you were to talk to him about this. Not because he wanted to leave you, but because he never understood why you’d ever agree to give him affection, or come to him for comfort and support. He always thought of himself as a cold, dark soul that could not love. But somehow, the laws of magic could not confine your relationship and your closeness. He’d straight up AVADA KEDAVRA anyone who bullied you, no questions asked! Hey, don’t judge me, I’m a simp for Tom.
BY THE WAY, if you are requesting something, try choosing individual characters instead of everyone since those take ages to make. Yes I will respond if you request everybody but just now it will take some time, maybe weeks or months if I’m feeling particularly unproductive.
#hpboysreact#hp fandom#hp imagines#hp fanfic#hp oneshot#tom riddle#tom marvolo riddle#harry james potter#draco lucius malfoy#cedric diggory#ronald weasley#fred weasley#george weasley#ron weasley#harry potter#wizarding world#slytherin#hogwarts#harry potter series#hp boys x reader#draco malfoy x reader#gryffindor#hufflepuff#ravenclaw#sorting hat#hogwarts aesthetic
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i’ll worship like a dog at the shrine of your lies // i’ll tell you my sins and you can sharpen your knife
Summary: Abraxas Malfoy would do anything for Tom. Even this. Especially this.
Warning: There isn't any actial smut, but it's implied.
Rating: M
Characters: Abraxas Malfoy/Tom Riddle Jr
Abraxas has been taking cues from his friend for a while now, much to the dismay of his father, Gaius Malfoy. This time, this upcoming year, would be no different. After all, Abraxas figures that this is a reasonable request from his dearest friend—stay at Hogwarts with him for their last winter holidays together.
And even if it wasn’t as reasonable of a request… he’d do it anyways.
Abraxas couldn’t say him and Tom started out on a strong foot, with Tom’s blood status being questionable at best and Abraxas being bound by the rules of the House of Malfoy. But he proved himself and his ability to lead, finding equal footing with the help of the future Lady Black. Abraxas fell in line too, seeing potential in the boy who was able to garner the respect of a woman herald as better than they all were. And as he gained more followers and very few friends, Abraxas can say he struck gold by staying by Tom’s side.
And stay by his side he would. Outside of Hogwarts and the real world weren’t as important, now that Abraxas had clear duty and purpose from his dearest friend.
But they weren’t in the real world. They weren’t outside of Hogwarts. They were sitting in a room of their own design, with comforts imagined by their wildest dreams and a fire going in the middle, keeping it warm. Tom sat in a chair pursuing a book. Abraxas lounged on a fainting couch, barely keeping his head up as he stared at his friend through the flames.
“Boring holes into my skull, are you not, Abraxas?” Tom speaks, breaking the near silence of their own private oasis.
Abraxas gives him a soft smile, “Not intentionally, Tom.”
“You will not be allowed to call me that much longer, Abraxas.”
“You’ll still always be Tom to me.”
“Watch it, Malfoy.”
“Alright, alright.” Abraxas leans up, “What are you reading about?”
“Nothing you need to worry about.” He tells him, flipping to another page, “It is all things I already know of. The reading selection here is abysmal. Or, at least in the main library.”
“This isn’t from your secret library?” Abraxas teases.
Tom answers straight, “No.”
“Am I ever going to see it?”
“It is for Heirs of Slytherin only.” Tom answers honestly once again, “You know this.”
“I know.” Abraxas leans his head against the main arm of the couch, craning his neck, “I know.”
“Good.” Tom says, “The more you know of things like this, the better.”
Silence passes. Tom doesn’t say anything more on the matter, as if he knows that Abraxas will never truly contest anything he ever says. He’s well versed in this belief, as Abraxas would tell you the same thing himself.
Abraxas changes the subject, “Tomorrow is the end of the year.”
“Is it really tomorrow if it’s less than a quarter of an hour away?”
“If it isn’t tomorrow yet, then yes it is.” Abraxas affirms, “Tomorrow, that is. It is tomorrow, tomorrow.”
Tom doesn’t look up from his book, “Alright,” He concedes. This isn’t something he particularly cares about. Time and its useless definitions are something someone with a life so finite should worry about. But Tom has taken the first steps towards combating that. He doesn’t need to worry about something so trivial.
“It’s also your birthday tomorrow.” Abraxas notes, “Is there anything special that you’re doing for it.”
“Spending time with you.” Tom asks questions in response, even though he already knows what Abraxas will say to him in response, “Why? Did you have any other plans?”
“Oh.” Abraxas takes a moment to recollect himself, “No reason.”
Tom being frank like this wasn’t something Abraxas would bet on. He’s always been a man of few words—of mystery, of intrigue. This was new. This was unexpected.
“No reason, Abraxas?” Tom looks up from his book, folding in the page ever so slightly at its corner and setting it aside on a table beside his chair, before standing, walking past the fireplace and where he can get a clear view of Abraxas’ reddining face in the candlelight. He bends down at the waist, coming mere centimeters in front of Abraxas, “I think you have a reason to wish me good will, do you not?”
Abraxas clears his throat, “I just wish you will enjoy your eighteenth birthday, my dear friend. Isn’t that when you’re free of your muggle upbringing.”
“My muggle upbringing has never been something to be of concern.” Tom tells him, “Do not speak of it again.”
“I won’t.”
“Good.” Tom looks at Abraxas’ long, silvery hair. It and himself is illuminated by the warm candlelight, “You look ethereal, you know. Bathed in the soft yellow light of the candles. Nowhere near as harsh as Walburga or Minerva were.”
As Tom’s closest confidante, Abraxas knows how he used Walburga and Minerva. And if this conversation seems to go in the direction Abraxas is betting it will, he knows he’s quick to succumb to Tom’s needs like they did.
In all honesty, Abraxas was wondering why this took so long to transpire.
“I think I’ve been told that before.” Abraxas says softly, staring into Tom’s ever dark eyes, “Not by you, though.”
Tom’s lip quirks ever so slightly, smirking in a way most wouldn’t notice. But Abraxas wasn’t most. He knew Tom more so than he knew himself. His whole life seemed to surround the man.
“You look prettier than most girls like this.” Tom runs his hand through Abraxas’ silvery locks, curling the ends with his fingers, “Most would kill for your beauty.”
“Is that all I bring to the table?”
“No.” Tom tells him, “But it is all I need out of you in this moment.”
Looking back, Abraxas couldn’t remember who’s lips collided into who’s. Who made the first move. Tom, in a moment of unflinching dominance? Or Abraxas himself, in quick desperation?
Abraxas is getting pulled up to his feet, then is laid out over a bed that appears when Tom wills it. He is stripped of his clothes and he’s splayed out on the silky green sheets, contrasting nicely with the rich satin.
Abraxas’ clothes are haphazardly on the floor while Tom takes his time slipping his Slytherin tie off and wrapping it around Abraxas’ pale wrists, pinning him above his head, stretching his body all lean and taut, showing off his thin skin and the bones that protrude from them.
Abraxas watches Tom as Tom watches him. He looks into the full-black eyes of the man he’s come to follow every word and whim of and doesn’t blink away.
“You have a view to enjoy, do you not, Abraxas?”
“I’ve always indulged myself in things like this.” Abraxas admits, his moonlight-pale skin reddening from what’s become of this night, “It’s one of life’s greatest pleasures to do so.”
“You know much of pleasures and indulgences, do you not, Abraxas?”
Abraxas smiles as Tom runs his spindly fingers across his skin, “I like to think I know much about a lot of stuff.”
“I do not indulge myself often.” Tom admits to him, “Everything I do has a purpose grander than doing something just because.”
Abraxas takes advantage of the pause in Tom’s thought, slipping into speech as Tom allows himself to take a moment and take Abraxas’ bare form all in, “Aren’t you not indulging in me, right now?”
“I am.” Tom admits to him, “This is wholly indulgent and I do not know what I gain from this, other than temporary pleasure.”
“Maybe that’s all you need.” Abraxas tells him, “Maybe that’s reason enough to do something you want to do.”
Tom smiles, “Maybe so.”
Abraxas watches and Tom loses his outer robes and then his shirt, carefully discarding his clothes upon a pile on a previously not there end table. Abraxas’ own clothes lay on the floor, gathering dirt and dust, even though they are worth more than Tom’s will ever be.
Or, would ever be, if not for Abraxas vowing to bankroll every whim or will Tom asks of him.
Tom’s smile hasn’t faltered since he gave it to Abraxas. It’s a toothless thing, showing off his skin-pink, soft lips. One side is higher than the others and most would call this a smirk, but this is genuine. Abraxas believes—no, knows it so. It has to be that way.
Tom’s belt finally unbuckles. He does so without looking, staring Abraxas down his blue-grey eyes. Tom’s own dark brown eyes stare back at them and Abraxas swears there is a bit of a red gleam to it, as if blood has seeped into its wet-soil hue.
His pants and shoes follow soon after, being strung about neatly, able to still be pristine by the end of whatever this’ll be.
“Do you have any reservations about this, Abraxas?” Abraxas is sure Tom asked this of Walburga and Minerva and the other people he’s taken this way, but Abraxas knows that this is genuine concern. He admitted it himself—there is no other motive in this.
“I don’t.”
The night stretches long into the morning. Abraxas finds himself more connected to the boy whom he originally dismissed as an interesting, but worthless oddity—a muggleborn in the pit of vipers that hated him and the kind he hailed from. But as his reputation grew, Abraxas’ admiration and interest did so too. And as that grew, something more unconditional blossomed.
Abraxas wouldn’t call it love. Neither of them would. Tom couldn’t love, a fact he found rather comforting within himself. Abraxas wouldn’t allow himself to admit that he’s fallen to a man who could never return what he truly needs in life.
But, for one night they were connected. For one night they were together. In body, mind, soul, spirit—Abraxas and Tom were one in all the ways that really mattered.
“Happy birthday, Tom.” Abraxas says, instead of whispering sweet nothings, “May it and your new year be just as bright.”
“Thank you, Abraxas.” He says in response, “Thank you.”
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i think he knows | theodore nott x reader
song; i think he knows [taylor swift]
pairing; theodore nott x ravenclaw!fem!reader
genre; not actually unrequited love, s2l, fluff
word count; 3,1k
timeline; half-blood prince
warnings; swearing, theo's lack of communication
summary; you had fancied the mysteriously quiet slytherin boy for as long as you could remember (since first year), and, quite frankly, your best friend was sick of you going on about it without ever making a move
masterlist
"wanna see what's under that attitude."
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Truth was, you knew you weren't special for having your attention caught by Theodore Nott. Despite his almost entirely anti-social personality and apparent grumpiness, many girls longed after him. You completely understood, of course; there was something enticing about a potentially misunderstood quiet boy, and the idea of becoming the one person they show affection to was self-indulging.
The fact of the matter, as your best friend, Cho, frequently pointed out, was that you had never even so much as spoken to him. You hoped he at least knew you existed, from the times you had been praised in class for your assignments, but you had no proof that he even recognised your face.
"Babe, it's sixth year now- that's over five years of you fancying Nott," Cho said as she caught your gaze lingering over to the Slytherin table again. It was your second day back after summer, so you had a lot of long-distance admiring to catch up on.
"Okay, so?" you replied, not even bothering to move your eyes away from the object of your desires.
"So, it's time that you do something about it," she continued, shovelling scrambled eggs on to both her plate and yours, "Do you really want to leave Hogwarts without any dating experience?"
You finally prized your eyes away from Nott, opting instead to meet your concerned best friend's gaze, "I don't think it's the sort of time to be thinking about dating."
"It's especially the time to think about it," she said, "Our lives may be shorter than we think they are - don't die with regrets."
You sighed, unable to argue.
"Plus, it really wouldn't hurt to have some positivity around here. You can feel how much heavier the air is than before."
That, you had to agree with. People were still laughing in their friend groups throughout the hall, sure, but there was a lingering sense of dread that had stuck with everyone since the Triwizard Tournament and reign of Umbridge, and it was only getting worse.
"Maybe," you finally concluded, picking up your fork to dig into your breakfast.
"You have nothing to lose," she added, "Your social circles are completely separate, and, you're pretty as fuck."
You couldn't help but smile at her compliment, "Even if that's true, I'm completely inexperienced."
"It's not that hard."
"Yeah, says the girl who had both Hogwarts champions drooling over her. No offence, babe, but you're biased."
"That could just have easily been you if you'd ever spoken to either of them."
"Whatever you say."
Cho sighed, deciding to not argue any further with you on the matter - for now.
***
It was amazing how potions went from your least favourite subject to your favourite after Slughorn took over from Snape. The lessons were no longer a fear-inducing chore, but instead a time of laughter and enjoyable learning: the way it should be.
Harry Potter especially seemed to be flourishing in the subject, much to the dismay of Hermione Granger, who usually took the spot at the top of the class. You were glad to not be a part of their constantly hectic lifestyles, although you had almost been when Cho had a thing with Harry the year prior.
Regardless, your main focus during potions was the gorgeous Slytherin boy who sat across the classroom from you - another of the best students in the class. Your seat was stationed at the perfect angle to sneak glances at him without raising too much suspicion: you definitely hadn't ensured that a few weeks ago during the first lesson or anything.
"Shit, I forgot the anjelica," you muttered to yourself, gazing at the list of ingredients in front of you as you had been wondering why your potion was a navy blue when it was meant to be a royal blue.
You left your station to head over to the ingredients cupboard, where you gazed at the arrangement before you. It was organised alphabetically, so your eyes shifted to the top left hand corner where you spotted the jar that you were after.
You stood on your tiptoes in attempt to reach it, but after failing, you huffed, going to pull out your wand instead. That was when a hard chest pressed against your back and a large pale hand grasped the very jar that you were in dire need of. You turned around quickly only to spot the guy you had fancied for an unhealthy amount of time - and his face was shockingly close to yours. His scent swarmed your nostrils, making your knees weak.
He raised an eyebrow at you.
Coming to your senses, you cleared your throat, "Uh, I need some of that anjelica- please."
His eyes shifted down to the jar in his hand as he stepped back slightly. The added distance meant that you could finally breathe.
Nott presented the jar to you, and you gratefully took it, thanking him in the process. As you went to open it and take what you needed, he left the cupboard and went back to his station, which was in view of where you were. You remained shocked for a few moments: did he not need some of the herb? His eyes locked on to yours from where he now was, making you panic and quickly depart the cupboard with the jar still in your hand.
Rowena, how did Cho expect you to ask him out when you couldn't even make eye contact with him?
***
The following morning, you were sat at breakfast with Cho and your other fellow Ravenclaws, busy discussing the latest ancient runes essay that you had to complete. Just as you began to discuss the difficulties you had with writing the conclusion, you were interrupted by the sound of owls from above. The morning post had arrived.
Typically, you didn't get anything. Maybe the occasional letter from your mother, but that was about it. So, you were mildly surprised to see an envelope drop in front of you.
It was a very small envelope: that was the most confusing part. You couldn't think as to why your mother wouldn't send a normal-sized letter, but you opened it nonetheless. Only, the contents of the envelope made your stomach drop as dread filled your bones and veins.
A tiny note was enclosed, that wasn't addressed or signed, and it simply read "I see you staring at me". Instinctively, your eyes looked up and over to the Slytherin table, where Theodore Nott sat, evidently having been watching you this entire time. His face was completely blank, until he arched an eyebrow at you - clearly a favoured expression of his - which made you begin panicking.
"Oh, fuck," you mumbled, "Fuck, fuck, fuck."
Only Cho, who was sat next to you, heard your profanities, and turned to you with confusion adorning her face. "What is it?"
You passed the note over to her, still gazing at Nott who now had the slightest of amused smirks tugging on his lips.
"Oh, fuck," Cho mimicked you, finally making you prize your eyes away from the boy, "Yeah, I see why you're panicking."
"This is going to socially ruin me," you sighed, "He'll probably tell the other Slytherins and then they'll bully me until the end of my school career."
"Okay, catastrophising much?" she said, gently slapping you, "Nott like never talks, I highly doubt he divulges his friends with personal information."
"Yeah, his personal information!" you whisper-yelled.
"I mean, maybe he likes you back."
"What?"
"He doesn't indicate at all in that note that he's mad at you for staring at him."
"Yeah, but, don't you think he'd go about it in a different way if he returned the feelings?"
Cho paused to think for a moment, "No, actually. Maybe he was pretty sure that you were staring at him, but needed to confirm it. So, he wrote that note to you, intentionally not signing it, to see if you would immediately look to him after reading it."
Your eyes widened with realisation, "Wait, are you saying I could have still saved myself, but instead instantly looked in his direction like a fucking idiot?"
"Y/N," she hit your arm, "I think this is a good thing. Try and be more optimistic."
"Easy for you to say."
***
You felt sick to your stomach as you arrived at your potions lesson that day, keeping your head down as you took your usual seat. Normally, this would be when you'd steal your first glance at Theodore Nott, but the thought of seeing his face again paralysed you with fear.
"Y/N, relax," Cho whispered to you, but her words were futile. Relaxation seemed impossible in times like this.
"Today, class, I want you to pair up with someone you don't usually work with," Professor Slughorn announced, "By that I mean, someone who isn't from your house and doesn't sit on your table."
You mumbled a curse under your breath as people began to move around, looking up to try and locate the nice Hufflepuff girl you sat next to in history of magic. Only, Cho had already disappeared to her side, and they were chatting happily with each other. Rowena, this was bad. You didn't have the biggest social circle.
"Excellent, everyone seems to be in pairs," Slughorn spoke, making you furrow your eyebrows.
Looking to your side, you were shocked to see that Nott had silently sat next you, and was gazing at you intently.
"Hi," you squeaked, flashbacks of breakfast flooding back to you.
He gave you a curt nod, and turned back to face the front.
You didn't listen to a single instruction that Slughorn gave after that, as your brain was much too pre-occupied with concepts of social suicide and humiliation. Was Nott just trying to torture you?
"L/N," a deep voice snapped you out of your thoughts. That was it. The first time you had ever heard Theodore Nott speak.
You turned to him, only to realise that everyone was standing up and getting ingredients - had you really been that spaced out?
It must have been evident in your facial expression that you had no idea what was going on, because Nott opened his potions book and pointed at the potion that you were making. You looked at the ingredient list, but you couldn't say that you were actually taking any of it in.
Clearly, Nott was aware of this fact, and let out a small sigh that made you feel exceptionally guilty. Regardless, he walked over to the ingredients cupboard himself without another word and soon returned with everything you needed. In the meantime, you had snapped out of your stupor and set up the cauldron and cutting board. You didn't want him to completely regret pairing up with you.
What potion were you even making? You finally processed the words on the page: amortentia. Your eyes widened.
This might not end well.
***
You had never thought being a remarkable potion maker - who was collaborating with a fellow remarkable potion maker - would be a bad thing. It turned out that it very much could be when the steam from your concoction wafted up your nose, overwhelming your senses with the smell of intertwined chestnut and paper money. As if the faint scent of Nott that you picked up on whenever he walked past didn't make you nervous enough, now it filled the entire room, since you certainly weren't the only capable potion makers in the class.
"Alright, class, it seems that we have all about finished," Slughorn clapped his hands together, "And, now, for my favourite part."
You had a feeling you knew what was coming.
"Miss Parkinson, what does the potion smell like to you?"
"Uh," the girl flushed a bit, her eyes flicking towards Draco Malfoy, "I don't know how to describe it - clean, expensive. Like a really fancy fragrance."
"Fascinating, most fascinating," Slughorn replied, his eyes gleaming, "Mr Nott, what about you?"
Were you already about to hear him speak for the second time? He hadn't spoke throughout the entire potion making process, which, to be honest, you were kind of glad for.
"Coconut," he said simply, "And vanilla."
Your breath hitched.
You used coconut shampoo.
Your favourite perfume was a vanilla scent.
"That is most interesting!" Slughorn grinned, "It is fascinating to hear what enraptures you all the most!"
You didn't realise that your eyes had glued on to Nott as Slughorn proceeded to ask other students what amortentia smelled of to them until the Slytherin boy turned to face you and raised a singular eyebrow.
You felt warm underneath his gaze.
He smirked.
***
You packed up at the end of the lesson, preparing to return to the Ravenclaw tower until dinner time along with Cho who was still across the room. Just as you were about to walk over to her, Nott grabbed your arm and jerked his head in the direction of the door. It was a silent invitation to walk with him somewhere, from what you could gather. You turned around to tell Cho where you were going, but she had already disappeared, much to your confusion.
The first few minutes of the walk were in silence, and the awkwardness was killing you. It was only once you had emerged from the dungeons that Nott finally said something.
"You aren't subtle."
A lightning bolt of shock and nerves shot up your spine and made you stiffen up as you walked. You managed to force out a mumble of, "I know."
He shrugged, "It's cute."
Had you heard him right? No, you couldn't have. You just weren't used to hearing his voice.
"I thought you were shy," you muttered, but he heard and chuckled a bit.
"No. Just quiet."
You clutched your books close to your chest.
"You're shy," he added.
You nodded.
He chuckled again, and silence ensued for another couple minutes.
"Hogsmeade," he said.
You hummed in surprise.
"This weekend. Me, you."
Your jaw dropped - did he mean a date? A Hogsmeade invitation had certain implications among Hogwarts students.
But he didn't clarify, not once on the way to the Ravenclaw tower.
***
"Relax, Y/N, you'll be great," Cho assured you, wrapping your scarf around your neck since the autumn breeze was nippy in Scotland.
"I don't even know if it's a date."
"Of course it's a date," she shook her head, "Everyone knows what inviting someone to Hogsmeade means."
You grimaced, "I don't know if Nott is the most up to date with social norms."
"Regardless, he's not a fucking idiot."
You gave your best friend a small smile.
"Now, he'll be waiting for you in the courtyard, so hurry!"
***
You had only ever seen Theodore Nott in casual clothing from afar before, catching a glimpse of him before he disappeared amongst the other Slytherins. But, Rowena, you had been missing out on quite an indulgent sight.
How could a man make such a simple outfit of a knitted jumper and baggy jeans look so good? You didn't understand it, unable to feel anything but self-conscious in your own ensemble.
He didn't smile at you as you approached, but instead gave you a curt nod. And, as you both began walking towards the carriage, the silence was truly beginning to suffocate you. So, you reached inside the crevices of your brain to talk about something - anything - and finally landed on informing him of every little thing that had happened to you that week. It wasn't particularly interesting, mainly because you were omitting the details about him, but it meant that the quietness was filled with your babbling.
Which was how it went the entire journey to Hogsmeade.
At first you weren't sure he was listening, but when you paused mid sentence for a moment, he raised his eyebrow at you and gestured for you to go on. So you did.
"...and honestly, I don't know why Cho thought that was a good idea," you sighed as you both stepped out of the carriage, "She nearly set her hair on fire!"
You heard a small chuckle erupt from the boy next to you, making you look over to him in surprise.
"What about you? How's your week been?" you asked cautiously, nervous to see his reaction to a question that required a wordy response.
He shrugged.
It was frustrating.
You chewed your lip for a few seconds, "Look- I get you find communication difficult. But, please, I need more to work with here."
He gave you a surprised expression, and stopped walking, making you halt too. Nott looked around pensively, completely unreadable.
"Nott?"
He looked at you and scowled, "Theo," he corrected.
"Theo- what are you doing?"
Letting out a loud exhale, he grabbed your hand and pulled you away from the main street of Hogsmeade and to a more hidden area behind some of the houses. When you turned around, you realised that he was right in front of you - to the point that you could feel the warmth of his breath on your face.
"I'm not good with words," he mumbled.
You hummed in agreement.
"I don't like talking to people," he continued, "But I want to talk to you."
Your breath hitched, "Really?"
"I'm not an idiot- I've known that you've fancied me for years."
You felt your ears heat up.
"But this year, when we started back, I-" he paused, trying to piece together the words in his mind, "I saw you, and it was different than before. I wanted your attention."
A smile crept on to your face as you gazed up at him.
"So, I know I need to work on being open - but I want to try. For you."
You don't know where the wave of confidence came from, but you found yourself pressing your lips against his and combing your fingers through his hair. He gasped at the sudden contact, but quickly reciprocated the affection until you pulled apart.
"Rowena... I always thought you knew. I can't believe I was right."
"Horrifying?"
"A little," you nodded, "But it's obviously worked out."
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masterlist
written; 03/06/2023 —> 15/08/2023
published;17/08/2023
edited; —/—/——
#harry potter#hp oneshot#hp#hp fanfic#harry potter oneshot#harry potter fanfic#fluff#theodore nott#theodore nott x reader#theodore nott x y/n#theodore nott x you#theo nott#theo nott x reader#theo nott x y/n#theo nott x you#reader insert#not so unrequited love#strangers to lovers#classmates to lovers#ravenclaw reader#theodore nott oneshot
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Night Terrors
Mattheo Riddle x Reader (fluff)
➸ summary: Mattheo comforts the reader during a nightmare
➸ warnings/notes: mentions of nightmares, fem!reader
➸ requested?: no
word count: 430
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YOU SHIFTED AROUND on your mattress, the blankets shuffling off your shoulders in your subconscious attempt of waking yourself up.
You weren’t sure how it started, but recently your dreams have been plagued by the most vicious images. No matter how hard you tried or whatever remedies you tried from Hermione, nothing worked.
Tonight was the first night Mattheo was sleeping over in your dorm since they began. He knew of your nightmares but not the extent of them.
So when his eyes sprung open, awoken by the sound of the bed jittering under your strenuous efforts to escape your own mind, he wasn’t exactly sure what to do.
Yet when you mumbled in your sleep, something seemed to kick him into action.
“Mattheo?” you whispered, your words slightly slurred by sleep.
He immediately sat up. You weren’t yet awake but your hands seemed to be grasping at the empty air around you. Mattheo noticed that your eyebrows were furrowed and your breathing seemed to quicken with each moment that passed.
Your trembling voice spoke once again. “Matt…?”
His heart broke at how hoarse you sounded, as if you had been calling his name for hours. Maybe you had.
“I’m here, princess,” he said. His fingers tucked away a few strands of sweaty hair back. You looked tired even though you were fast asleep - but he knew better than anyone that a nightmare fueled sleep was not a well rested one.
He leaned against his elbows right next to your head, his hands never leaving your face.
Your hands came to grip at his shirt, burying yourself into him. When a whimper left your lips, he decided to encase you in a hug, his arms lifting your leg onto his as he tried to get you as close to him as possible.
“It’s okay. I’ve got you.”
Lying down onto the plush pillows, he maneuvered your head so that it was in the crook of his neck. He never once stopped petting your head, his hands making quick work to try and soothe your discomfort. The other made shapes onto your thigh.
Soon your breathing evened out, but yet you still clung onto him for support.
“You’re safe, pretty girl. Just relax,” his final mumbles of sweet nothings said.
Just as his eyes were about to drift closed again, he heard your voice speak out into the abyss of the room once more.
“Thank you, Matty.”
It was almost incoherent, and he would’ve missed it had it not been for his attentive ears.
Smiling, he squeezed your thigh reassuringly. “Anytime.”
- - -
#mattheo riddle imagine#mattheo riddle#mattheo riddle fanfic#mattheo riddle x reader#mattheo riddle fluff#hp fanfcition#hp oneshot#hp fanfic#harry potter x reader#harry potter imagine#harry potter oneshot#harry potter fanfiction#slytherin boys x reader#mattheo riddle drabble#mattheo riddle headcanon
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hiiii! I’d really like a Draco Malfoy x fem!slytherin!reader where they used to be BEST friends and started to date, but then ended up breaking up on bad terms (due to some angsty miscommunication). so it’s basically like best friends to exes to lovers but in the end it’s super fluffy and Draco’s a little simp even tho that’s lowkey ooc
'friendships end' - draco malfoy
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It’s been a long time since you’ve heard from Draco Malfoy, which is unusual. Typically, he likes to make his presence known. Yet it’s been many months since his owl sent word of his exploits, or the last time he sought you out in the Slytherin common room to explain at length the latest novelties to come his way. You used to love that, you know– the trust, the confidence in you to hear him out– but now you love the silence more, or so you tell yourself. Then again, you suppose the emptiness is your fault. After all, you’re the one who broke up with him.
You hadn’t wanted to, of course. Not really. In the heat of yet another argument, you’d convinced yourself that a breakup would be good, but in the time since then, you’ve only been spiraling into memories of what had been yours before you took it all away. You had been happier with Draco, hadn’t you? Now all you can do is second-guess yourself and wonder if you had been wrong to end the one brilliant thing that had belonged to you and no one else.
It had been inevitable that you and Draco would start dating. That’s what your other friends of Slytherin House had said, at least, when the news broke. It seemed like the entirety of Hogwarts had known within a few hours of your first date together. Gossip spreads like wildfire in a school like this, and as it turns out, more than a few of your fellow students had been expecting you two to get together for quite some time.
At first, it had seemed like yet another victory in your pocket. Draco loved you and you loved him. The two of you were the talk of the town. Stealing Draco’s heart might have been the best hat-trick you’d ever pulled off, and he might say the same thing about you. You traded scarves and stole his jackets, bought each other roses and studied side by side in the common room every night, borrowing glances when you were sure the other wasn’t looking. Every move felt like a miracle– look at this person, who loves only me. Somehow, I managed to make them fall in love with me, despite all odds and all other people, and now they’ll be mine forever.
Only– forever isn’t a true thing, not in the wizarding world, and certainly not in fast-paced Slytherin. Every day, there are new battles to be fought, more prizes to be won, and victories that can be won by one person and one person only. You and Draco stopped competing together and started fighting against each other to secure the top places. Instead of being happy for each other when you got high exam scores, it felt like more nails in your coffin. Wouldn’t he grow tired of you if you couldn’t get your grades up? And he went to bed afraid, lay up all night wondering, wouldn’t you move on if Draco couldn’t win more Quidditch games?
Regardless if the two of you actually depended that much on each other’s academic and personal successes for your love to flourish, it certainly felt that way. The other Slytherin students, which at first had welcomed your relationship with open arms, turned against you, whispering to each other like snakes whenever you passed them in the corridors. Nowhere felt safe except by each other’s side, and then not even that. You swore Draco was mocking you to Crabbe and Goyle. He thought you were bad-mouthing him to Pansy and Astoria.
And then, after weeks of rumors and indecision, it all came to a fiery head. You accused each other of not actually caring about each other and lying about what you’d done and worse things, too. When the voices were raised and the words got bad, you pulled for the last weapon you had up your sleeve and announced that you wanted to break up with him. You were assuming that Draco would recognize the move for what it was, a last-ditch attempt for him to realize that you were on fragile ground, but instead his eyes just flashed and he agreed that separation would be best for you two.
All of a sudden, it was over. Years in the making, only months in the having. The two of you have never been able to do anything but escalate a situation– grades, love, and this, now– so of course Draco would never back down from a fight. One of you always had to be better. One of you always had to have the last laugh. And now you’re both alone, forever on opposite sides of a classroom or common room, staring daggers at each other’s backs because it’s the only glimpse you’ll ever be able to catch of the person who had once sworn to love you forever.
It’s terrible because not only have you lost your love, you’ve lost your friend. You and Draco were the best of friends before you started dating, it’s why you felt confident enough to risk your heart on a Malfoy. You knew he would never hurt you because he never has, and then he did. Sitting with the broken fragments of your heart in your hands, your first instinct was to go to Draco about this, and then the truth slowly sunk in that you couldn’t, that you never could trust him with your honesty again. Draco knew every part of you, broken and bare, good and bad and ugly, and he ended things anyway. If Draco Malfoy can break your heart, then where is the proof that love could ever exist anywhere again?
Friendships end. Friendships always end. You know this to be true. Either by sudden death or slow drifting, best friends never stay that way forever. You’ll have irreconcilable differences that lead to jaded arguments, or time will intervene and you’ll stop seeing each other around, then stop making attempts to care. You’ve chosen the first end, it seems, but since when would anything with you and Draco end with a lackluster indifference? You would either pledge yourselves to each other forever or go out with enough chill to ice you both out for good. There was no world in which you could go quietly.
Perhaps this is true, perhaps it was meant to be all along that two people so ambitious and excitable as you two could never end with anything but terror, but Merlin, if you don’t hate it now. You straggle from class to class, hardly able to convince yourself to put in the effort to care about what you’re learning. You’ll lock in long enough to study for exams, and turn in halfway decent papers, of course, but your heart isn’t in it anymore.
And how could it? You have no heart. It’s gone, lost to you forever in the annex of a corridor a few turns away from the Slytherin common room, where Draco stalked away from you, unaware or perhaps not caring about the blood he tracks wherever he goes. He ripped your heart in two and washed his hands of the agony. You wish you could do the same, but every new day just reminds you of how much you wish you were with him.
Still, you move on, or you try to, at least. Draco clearly has. He hardly spares a word for you, not even a gloating reminder that he’s got the upper hand since he isn’t wallowing in self-pity on a day-to-day basis. He’s simply busy all of the time, too busy for you. You’re not so busy that you don’t notice it, and certainly not busy enough that it wouldn’t hurt.
Yes, you miss Draco, but who wouldn’t? What a time in your life. There are some people in life that you simply won’t be able to forget, and you have a feeling that Draco Malfoy is one of them. As much as you would love to push him into the past and lock him up with all the other dusty relics of times long since gone, he refuses to be barricaded with the rest of your childhood playthings and old friends.
He’s always been too ambitious for his own good, hasn’t he? And so have you. It’s what drew the two of you together in the first place, and it’s what drew you apart. You try to use that same strength to push yourself onwards and upwards, and it works for a time, but never completely. You can throw yourself back into your studies and spend your free time laughing with friends, but there will always come a time at the end of the day in which you have nothing to occupy your heedless minutes, when the gloomy thoughts come creeping back in again and you wonder– just why did you have to let him go, really?
Not even the strictest schedule in the world can free you of regret, it seems. You feel like you’re being torn apart at all seams even as you attempt to force yourself back together again. Your nerves are flighty, your senses on constant high alert, and you can’t seem to stop your eyes from scanning the room whenever someone exits or enters, just in case Draco might come in, just in case he might see you as anything but your best. You have to prove that you’re doing better than him, but you’re not sure if you can convince him of that when you can hardly convince yourself.
Days go by, blending into weeks, and then two months have come and gone and you’re no better off than you were at the start. Things with Draco are still painful, like testing a wound just to watch the stitches come undone. Every interaction with him is terrible. You run into each other in the corridors and he practically flinches with an effort to look away again. You both raise your hands to answer the same question in class and you almost sprain a muscle in your effort to quickly pull your arm down again. You and Draco approach the entrance to the common room at the same time and have to stand there, side by side, pretending you don’t notice each other at all.
It’s an awful sort of hell, having to feign indifference to the one person who used to be able to read you like a book. Maybe he still can, maybe not even time and separation can heal Draco of that great gift, or maybe he just doesn’t care enough to attempt to read between your lines anymore. Maybe he’s not faking apathy with you. Maybe he truly just doesn’t care.
Despite your tendency to think that way, your friends seem to have none of it. They keep telling you that he stares when he thinks you’re not looking, that every time some boy asks for your help on a problem in class, Draco snaps a quill or otherwise looks like he’s going to burst a blood vessel from failing to keep himself in check.
You don’t have the heart to believe them. Your friends will tell you whatever they think is right to get you to smile again. You know you’ve been ruining the mood whenever you complain about Draco, but you’ve been trying to work on that, too. You’ve been trying to work on a lot. It doesn’t always go the way you plan it.
Still, when they talk like that, you can’t help but secretly listen along. You catch Draco looking one time, then again. The second time, he doesn’t look away, but keeps holding your gaze like an oath, a promise. He used to smile whenever he caught your eye in class, but this time, his gaze is more serious. It feels like life and death, and it’s only just the two of you happening to look the same way at the same time.
Everything feels charged. You cross paths and the entire corridor seems to crackle with energy. You know how this feels, you remember it from the first time around, so at this point, it isn’t a question of if you’ll make another mistake but when.
When, as it turns out, is about a week later. You’re walking back from the library, late one night when a problem set got the better of you. After finishing the work at long last, all you want to do is go back to the Slytherin common room so you can go to sleep. Halfway back, though, you run into Draco, obviously coming from a similar situation given the ink stains on his writing hand.
Usually, this is the part where one of you doubles back or otherwise hides from the other, but instead Draco looks at you, and says, “Walk with me?”
You agree before you know what you’re doing. At first, your footsteps echo in the silent halls, and then you gather up the courage to speak again. “It’s been a while since I saw you.”
Draco scoffs. “That’s ridiculous. I saw you in class this morning.”
You give him a dour look. “You know what I mean. I don’t think you’ve spoken to me on purpose since–”
Since the fight, that is. Since both of you walked out on each other. Draco looks away for a moment, and when he speaks again, the syllables are terse and clipped. “I didn’t think you wanted to talk. After all, you were the one who ended things.”
You sigh. “I didn’t want to, though. It was a stupid thing to say and we were both angry at each other. We’d had arguments before, I thought we’d talk it over in a day or two and then be fine.”
“And then we weren’t,” Draco supplies.
“And then we weren’t,” you repeat listlessly. A moment later, you can’t help but add on somewhat desperately, “Where did we go wrong, Draco? What happened to us?”
Draco’s gaze is bleak and painful. “I don’t know. I’ve tried thinking it over loads of times. I thought you liked me.”
“I did,” you insist. Then, quieter: “I do.”
He risks a quick glance your way. “Still?”
You don’t dare look at him outright. He’s always been an expert at calling your bluff, anyway. You reckon he doesn’t need to hold your gaze to know when you’re telling the truth. “Always. I never thought you’d leave me, Draco. I didn’t know what to do without you. I tried to move on, but I couldn’t.”
“Neither could I,” he reveals. “Every time I saw some bloke flirting with you, I wanted to hex him. Worst part was, I couldn’t admit to being angry because I wasn’t supposed to be jealous.”
“You were jealous over someone asking me for help on the homework?” You ask, a quiet laugh rising to your lips.
“They weren’t just interested in the homework,” Draco insists, although his irritation starts to fade when you laugh outright.
“Alright, then. Let’s say you did have something to be jealous about. Would that mean that you– that you wanted–”
“It means that I want you, Y/N,” Draco says, quickly stepping in front of you so you’re forced to stop walking and look directly at him. “I want you back. I want us back. What do you say?”
He’s close, so close. He hasn’t been this close since an empty room and a furious argument. This time, though, you’re not unhappy. Far from it.
“I say yes,” you tell him, and the words have hardly left your lips before he leans forward and kisses you.
You’ve had many victories over your time at Hogwarts. You’ve aced exams, you’ve done well in competitions, you’ve won the boy you loved, twice. This kiss feels like the best of them all.
harry potter tag list: @blondsauduun, @with-inked-solace, @cameronsails, @neewtmas, @lovesanimals0000, @sher-lokid7, @eclliipsed, @frenchgirlinlondon, @23victoria, @ilovexavierthrope
all tags list: @wordsarelife
#draco malfoy#draco malfoy imagines#draco malfoy x reader#draco malfoy oneshot#harry potter#harry potter imagines#harry potter oneshot#hp#hp imagines#hp x reader#hp oneshot#slytherin#slytherin reader#hp draco#hp draco imagines#hp draco x reader#hp draco oneshot#draco#draco imagines#draco x reader#draco oneshot
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[ 𝔤𝔬𝔩𝔡𝔢𝔫 𝔱𝔯𝔦𝔬 𝔢𝔯𝔞 ]
i am: ☒ currently taking requests ☐ not currently taking requests
ϟ - Angst ♡ - Smut ☼ - Fluff ⑱ - 18+
any stories marked with this symbol [ ⑱ ] is intended for mature audiences only. this means that any minors, eighteen or younger, should not interact with that post.
FRED WEASLEY
⤷ Darling ♡ ⑱ | Fred makes sure you know the consequences of being a brat
#hp fluff#hp oneshot#hp headcanon#hp smut#hp fanfiction#harry potter#harry potter fanfiction#ron weasley#draco malfoy#fred weasley#george weasley
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It’s a fic now 🫡
#hp oneshot#hp#hp marauders#marauders#james potter#remus lupin#sirius black#wolfstar#peter pettigrew#minerva mcgonagall#TikTok
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Notes: Challenged to spend the night in the cemetery during Halloween, you are surprised to find company until dawn.
Warnings: Fred x gn!reader; mention of anxiety; small plot at the end; SFW.
It was a stupid idea, for an even more stupid joke, you felt stupid for doing it, there were too many "stupid" for just one sentence and yet you continued with the challenge. Of all the games you could have suggested for the group, you had to choose "Truth or Dare", as if that couldn't turn against you, brilliant. Now here you were, holding your leather jacket tightly around your body and trying to figure out how you were going to get into the cemetery so late at night without being seen, truly incredible.
With momentum and strength that made your arms shake as you had to pull your own weight, you jumped over the wall and cursed your entire group of friends for putting you in this situation. Luckily for you - if had any luck in being in all this - there was no one in the cemetery to catch you, everything was very silent, with a strange fog covering the graves, the only light that illuminated the place was the moonlight and some streetlights that were too far away from each other. A shiver ran through your body as you walked between the tombs and realized that the only ones in that cemetery were you and the dead.
It was better to get it over with, you pulled out your cell phone and turned on the camera, a photo would be enough to convince them that you spent the whole night there, then you found a way to get rid of the locator spell that revealed the place you were in. last hours. Finding a position that illuminated your face well but still showed the cemetery behind you, you pressed the button while giving the camera the middle finger, you just wanted to leave as quickly as possible. Your eyes closed at the surprise flash, you swore it had turned off.
- Who is the photo for?
A male voice asked and made you jump and look in the direction, right next to you was a tall boy, probably a few years older than you, with wild red hair and a curious smile and look. Where did he come from? And how did he approach without making a sound? You immediately pulled out your wand in fear of the unknown, who seemed too strange for you.
- Who are you?!
- Hey, calm down, calm down! My name is Fred, Fred Weasley, I was also a student at Hogwarts, I won't do you any harm, I just wanted to know what a freshman was doing in the cemetery - he raised his hands helplessly.
- I'm not a freshman! And how can I be sure you won't do anything?
- My wand is in my pocket, if you want you can take it, I just want to talk.
You walked over and placed your wand against his neck while you took the one from the boy's pocket and put it in your jacket. In one quick movement you moved away from him, lowering your wand but still not putting it away. Fred rubbed his neck, still in shock. Silently, he took a small step back and sat down on the nearest tombstone.
- You're badass... I think I was wrong to worry, but after all, what the hell are you doing alone in the cemetery at this hour?
- First you tell me, after all, it seems to me that you are in the same situation.
- The party I was at ended later than I expected, I didn't get a ride so I was walking home when I saw someone jumping over the cemetery wall - he revealed and it seemed true.
- I was challenged to spend the night in the cemetery, when dawn I can leave - you put away your wand.
- How stupid... - you agreed but didn't say - ... Aren't you afraid of seeing a ghost? - a smile appeared on his face.
- I'm not afraid of ghosts.
- And angels?
- Why would anyone be afraid of angels?
- Yeah, I said it without thinking - he shrugged and stood up - Well, then I'll leave. Was a pleasure to meet you.
- No! Wait! - you said without even thinking and the smile on his face increased - I still have your wand... - disguised.
- Oh, that's true, I forgot.
He approached you with his hand outstretched, waiting for you to give it back to him, and you were about to give it back, but you hesitated. A better idea popped into your mind, at the last second you pulled the wand back to you and put it away.
- I will return your wand on one condition.
- Condition? The wand is mine!
- If you help me remove this locator spell, I'll give it back to you and we can get out of here - you imposed.
- Locator spell? - he laughed loudly - There's no way to remove a locator spell! You have to wait for the duration to end.
- What do you mean there's no way to take it off!? - you widened your eyes.
- Yes, I'm really sorry, now can you give me my wand back?
You looked down at your feet feeling even more stupid for having accepted all of this, you thought and thought but no idea that could get you out of this without being ridiculed came up, before anxiety could take over you raised your head with determination.
- No. You will spend the night here with me.
- What?! I have nothing to do with this!
- That's because you scared me, when dawn comes I'll give you your wand back and we'll get out of here.
Fred stared at you in disbelief, thinking of several great names to call you with the anger he felt. With an irritated sigh or grunt - it was hard to tell - he turned his back to you and walked away. Now it was you who was in disbelief and ran after him, "where are you going?!" You called but he didn't answer you. When you found him, Fred was resting on top of a grave, arms crossed.
- Fred?
- Do you want me to wait? Okay, but I'm not going to stay upright until dawn - you laughed and sat on the tomb next to you.
- Thanks for staying.
- As if I had much choice.
For a long time, the two of you stayed like that, sitting on top of the tombs side by side, waiting for the sun in silence. There was a cold breeze that sent shivers down the back of your neck from time to time, making you cross your arms tighter against your body. Fred didn't seem to mind that much, his thoughts were far away.
- Can I say something? - he said suddenly, breaking the long silence, almost scaring you.
- Yes.
- You have terrible friends, I would never let a friend stay in the cemetery alone, never! - he seemed really angry for you.
- You can't talk much, none of your friends gave you a ride and now you're in the cemetery too.
- Yeah, I'm, right...? - he said more to himself than to you - I think we both have shitty friends - you laughed.
- ... I would have given you a ride - he looked at you.
- ... Thanks - he smiled.
The conversation between you after that started shyly, but soon you were both laughing. Fred was actually very funny, and even though he had every reason to be mad at you, he chose to forget about it and make you laugh. He preferred to ask about how things were at Hogwarts now than to frown until the first ray of sunlight appeared. He told you about the school's secret passages, about the incredible things he invented and how he gave the teachers trouble when he was a student, how he always had a prank ready for each of them. Fred listened to you talk about the things you had done too and smiled every time you were proud that you hadn't been caught. In the end, to your surprise, you were very similar, even if still different.
Only when you ran out of topics did notice that the sun had already risen, he then got up from the stone tomb and stretched.
- Let's go? We have to take advantage of the fact that no janitor or anything like that has arrived yet to catch us.
Agreeing, you got up and followed the path he took, arriving at a gate that was very well locked. Fred looked at you and held out his hand and he didn't need to say anything for you to understand that he wanted the wand. As agreed, you returned it. With a spell that wasn't just a simple Alohomora, Fred managed to unlock the gate.
- George and I invented this spell when we were still in 5th grade.
- Who is George? - he was silent for a while.
- An old friend - he said and opened the gate, which creaked.
Maybe it was all in your head, but the outside of the cemetery seemed to have a much lighter air. You took a deep breath and closed your eyes, realizing how tired you were and just wanted to get back to your dorm before a teacher or monitor noticed you were missing.
- Well, then I'll go, it was nice talking to you, Y/n - Weasley announced.
- Ah, yes, it was nice talking to you too, thanks for the company...
But when you opened your eyes and turned to him there was no one, how had he disappeared so quickly? It was just a matter of seconds. You found it really strange but you didn't think about it too much, wizards disappearing in the blink of an eye was considerably normal, maybe a little rude, but normal. Shrugging and starting to go on your way, you pulled your cell phone out of your pocket to check how the photo you took had turned out. And at that time something really strange happened. In the photo there was only you, there was no one next to you, nothing, not a single strand of Fred's red hair appeared in the photo even though he was right next to you at the moment you took it. But as the flash was on, something behind you lit up and shone, you zoomed in to get a better look. On the tombstone behind you was a photo that reflected the light, and just below was engraved the name: Fred Weasley (April 1, 1978 – May 2, 1998). His voice echoed in your mind: "Aren't you afraid of seeing a ghost? And an angel?" A shiver ran through your body when understood what had just happened.
Sorry for any typos;
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