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#neville x reader
ibbythebee · 6 months
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Hospital Wing Hermits
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gif credit: @handknit on wattpad
pairing: Neville Longbottom x year younger!reader
summary: From Neville's second year at Hogwarts to his last, his most memorable times with you have been spent in the hospital wing.
genre: fluffiness all round, slight angst at the end... but only a little, slow-burny
warnings: this fic is so soft that you will potentially combust, slight swearing, SO MUCH hand holding, the reader is an oblivious goofball until she's not, kissing, talks about illnesses and injuries, blood and boogers
words: 6k
masterlist
»»————- ⌁ ————-««
Neville's 2nd Year
Clutching onto Madame Pomfrey is nothing new to Neville. In the middle of the night, however, is a different story. The Nurse coos whenever the boy makes the slightest sound of pain, holding him up as not to put anymore pressure on his right foot.
"We're just about there, dear. Come on, just a few more steps..."
Leading him to the middle of the hospital wing's room, she then guides him onto an untouched bed, and immediately slides a pillow underneath his ankle. A spot of light on the opposite side of the room does not go unnoticed to either the woman or boy as soon as they had entered the room.
Neville rubs his eyes, squinting at the strange glowing mound of sheets. He watches as, with a sigh, Madame Pomfrey marches to the other preoccupied bed and pulls over the white covers to reveal you, a sheepish looking girl.
Under the light of your wand, your face looks puffy, lips and nose chapped, hair amuck. You cough into your elbow and smile a toothy innocent smile, batting your big eyes at the woman, silently pleading your innocence.
Pomfrey, however, does not play games. "Turn off that incessant light, Miss L/N. Do you realise what time it is?"
Your lips shape into a pout, voice stuffy as you answer. "But Madame Pomfrey, it's so boring here. I'm bored."
"No, you should be asleep. Turn that off right now. I don't want to have to send another owl to your mother about you refusing medical help."
"Just a few more minutes please? I'll finish the page I'm reading."
"Absolutely not. It's basic manners and respect for your fellow peer." She motions to Neville, and you finally turn to him.
Despite the fatigue in your features, your eyes seem to glow, piercing through the dark room. Perhaps it's just his lack of sleep or absence of light, but there is something drawing him to you and he fails to look away. Nothing comes out of his mouth even though he knows he's probably supposed to greet you, but neither do you.
A second longer you stare at your new roommate and in eventual defeat, you pout. The light from your wand fades, as you mumble 'nox' under your breath and get comfortable under the blankets.
Satisfied, Madame Pomfrey clears the rubbish bin underneath your bed and turns back to Neville handing him a small flask of some sort of healing potion.
"All right. Off to bed now both of you. Good night, dears."
You both mutter a 'goodnight', closing your eyes, gingerly pulling the covers up to your chins.
It stays mostly quiet in the room, apart from the Nurse's shuffling. Though as time passes, shoes click and click away, and then the door creaks shut.
"Psst!"
Neville stirs.
"Hey, psst!"
"Huh?" Is all Neville can manage, lifting his head with a groggy squint.
"What happened to you?" You ask in a loud whisper and sniffle. Sitting straight, and staring right at him. Your eyes really are big, inquisitive.
"Well I... twisted my ankle," he finally says.
"How?"
"I... I'd rather not say. It's embarrassing, really."
"I won't tell anyone," you say as-a-matter-of-factly. "You can hex me if I do."
He looks at you through narrow eyes again and this time it's your teeth that glow. As you show no interest in falling asleep, Neville's neck admits defeat and his head crashes back down onto the pillow. "Can we just please go to sleep?"
"I caught a cold... or maybe a fever. Runny nose—" you sniff, wiping your face with your pajama sleeve "—wet cough, high temperature. My mum says I have a weak immune system."
"Well, that's not very good, is it?" He comments half-heartedly to the ceiling.
"No, it isn't."
Silence. For a moment, he believes that you've finally surrendered yourself.
"So how'd you twist your ankle in the middle of the night?"
Never mind.
"You don't seem like a rule-breaker," you say.
He carefully shuffles up to sit and sighs. Where on earth did you get your energy from? He hadn't met such a talkative first year before.
Neville takes a moment to answer, debating on whether or not you're harmless enough for him to be vulnerable. "I had a nightmare, okay? I fell off my bed and... landed badly."
"Well, that's not very good, is it?" You echo.
"No, it isn't."
Silence once again ensues, but this time Neville's ready for your chatterbox mouth.
"What's your name? I'm..." You suddenly stop and he nearly laughs when your silhouette jerks and you sneeze. It's loud, like his Gran.
"Nice to meet you, Achoo." He chuckles, holding a hand over his mouth.
You sniff again, face hot in a new wave of humiliation, and this time you wipe your face with more aggression. "Hey, that's not funny! My name is — A-ACHHHOO!"
"Isn't that what I just said?" He can't help but laugh again. Relishing in the groan you emit and how furiously you blow your nose.
With a poke of your tongue, you retort. "Whatever, Mr... mm... Fall-out-of-bed...n-nightmare-broken-ankle-boy."
"Wow, that's really fantastic, Achoo." He slides back down into his bed, closing his eyes with content and tries to hold in his giggles as you continue with determination to clear up your mistake.
Initially, Neville thought he wouldn't even be able to get in a nap, but now with the understanding that you bark more than you bite, he creates a silly image of you in the form of a puppy. As your voice rings in the background, the puppy image barks with you, and he feels his eyes grow heavy, falling into a content and nightmare-less sleep.
»»————- ⌁ ————-««
Neville’s 4th Year
Ever since sleeping the night in the hospital wing, Neville knew he'd be seeing more of you. It was surprising to him that he hadn't noticed you before that night, especially seeing as you were such a social butterfly. And despite being in the year below, he'd always manage to catch your eyes in the Great Hall. And in the courtyard. And in the halls. And through a classroom window. You were everywhere and anywhere. And when you weren't, you were in bed in the hospital wing.
Just like you are now. The fourteen-year-old hadn't seen you for the past few weeks after the first task of the Triwizard Tournament, and needless to say, he had to see you.
And such a perfect opportunity had arose today, albeit a painful one, but an opportunity none the less.
Neville opens the door to the wing as gently as possible as not to wake you, however knowing you, you probably already were.
Entering the room, he clutches his sore hand to his ribs and cranes his neck to spot the nurse. Instead he finds your lying form under a mountain of blankets.
You stir, and Neville curses at his shoes for making so much noise. Sure, his intention of coming here was to see you, but he’d seldom seen you in such a peaceful state and didn’t want to ruin that for you.
“Neville?” He hears you say and then you’re facing him.
He smiles down at you, with a voice just as soft as silk. "Hey, Achoo. Didn't mean to wake you. How you feeling?”
“I’m feeling alright. Kinda headache-y, but fine. Ugh, what time is it?” You rub your eyes and stretch as you sit up.
The messiness of your bed-hair is incredibly endearing and the curve in Neville’s lips only grow at the sight.
“It’s third period.”
“Then… what are you doing here? Are you hurt?”
You’re suddenly on your feet, eyes round and wide, taking in the scene of the tall boy. He flinches, attempting to hide his hand in his robe sleeve.
You snatch his hand, bringing it close to your face. It’s a burn. All over the back of his palm. "Bloody hell— Where's Madame Pomfrey?"
"I was about to ask you the same question." A small chuckle falls from his lips as you examine him. Somehow, in some miracle he watches your big eyes grow larger as you twist his hand, move his long fingers to get as much information about his wound.
He feels like he’s going crazy, your touch is a new kind of burn on his skin. It doesn’t sting, but it is hot. And you don’t even know you’re causing it.
"She's always gone when you actually need her,” you huff.
"It's not as bad as it looks, really. Just hurts a little when I move it."
"What about when I...?" You drift off, as you slide a delicate thumb over his beet-red knuckles.
The tips of his ears turn the same shade of red. "Stings."
With no further words, he lets you pull him to one corner of the hospital wing, searching for a particular ointment on the many shelves of medical supplies. You don't let go of his hand, and he doesn't dare pull away.
"Let me guess how it happened—" you say, grabbing a round jar of blue gel to read the label.
"Seamus." You both state and then share a laugh.
Placing the jar back, you continue your search and Neville fills the comfortable silence. "It's Potions class. For once I thought I was doing pretty decent and then next thing I know, Seamus' cauldron blows up next to me and of course I get the damage."
His hand is held up to your face again and he watches as you grab a new jar with a less solid looking gel, creamy in colour.
"I suppose it's a good way for me to get out of the rest of the class," he shrugs.
"And get away from Snape," you quip and earn a chuckle from him. There was a time in Neville’s third year, when you had come to learn about his amusing boggart. He’d snuck into the hospital wing, claiming he had a nasty headache and ended up staying the night, neither of you getting a wink of sleep. It had also been revealed that the thing you were most frightened of was giants.
“Sit down,” your motioning to the mattress behind him.
He does so without question, still attached to you by your pinkie, making himself comfortable on the edge of a neatly tucked bed. He follows your every action as you place the ointment jar beside his thigh and open the lid. You scoop a teaspoon amount with your fingers and lifted his burnt hand again.
Before the cream touches his burn, you begin to tell him about what illness you've caught today and he barely feels the sting of the medicine. There's no better spell or potion to kill pain than your voice, that much was evident even back when he first met you.
Concentration laces your features and unbeknownst to you, your hips hit the edge of the mattress, unaware to the fact that Neville's knees are on either side of you.
The sight of you between him for some reason makes it difficult for him to swallow. The urge to trap you with his legs increases by the second. "Hey, Y/N?"
You wipe off excess ointment on your pajama top and turn your attention to him. He rarely called you by your first name. Something's up.
"Yeah?"
"Well, the erm... You know in a week or so?"
"Mhm?"
There's a pause as he searches your eyes for confidence, then he finally announces. "Would you say you're a good dancer?"
Creases form between your brows and you pout at the question, really thinking it over. If there was anything else Neville had learnt about you was that you always answered his queries with great interest and thought. You never treat his questions as though they're dumb, and he’s come to adore you for that.
As you ponder, he slides his non-burnt hand under yours, idly fiddling with your delicate fingers; tracing around the length of them, lifting them up and dropping them one by one, and eventually laying his palm flat on top of yours. Were his hands always this big?
The tips of your fingers tap-tap against his, as you finally answer. "I suppose... I would like to think I am."
"Well... that's good to hear."
"What about you?"
"Oh me?" He finds your face and swallows thickly. "I've been practicing lately, so I can only hope I've improved."
A giggle breaks free from your lips and it’s music to his ears. "Practicing? Whatever for?"
"The Yule Ball, of course."
"The..." The creases near your brows form again. "I've completely forgotten about that."
He squeezes a finger of yours. "So, no one's asked you yet?"
You sneeze into your elbow and then for a second time, and your voice becomes stuffy to the amusement of Neville. "Asked me what?"
"Asked you to be their date, of course."
"Oh. No." Scoffing. "Being stuck in here means no social-life. And besides—" You spin around quick to grab a roll of bandage, and gingerly flatten it over his burn "—who's gonna want to dance with someone who sneezes every five minutes?"
"I would."
"That's what I thought — wait... you would?"
In an effort to look nonchalant, Neville shrugs, finding interest in a bird that's flying near the window. The tips of his ears poking out of his shaggy hair are giving you a different response, they're blushing.
You finish with his wound and step away from the bed, fingers feeling cold when you let go of him.
Upon inspection of your medical handiwork, he smiles gently. He hadn't felt a thing. "Thanks for this."
"I... I can't guarantee that I'll be completely healthy that day," you say.
"The Yule Ball?"
You nod in an almost embarrassed way, as you fiddle with the collar of your sleeping clothes.
Neville just shakes his head. "The suit my Gran got for me has a lot of pockets so I’ll carry all your tissues for you. Or anything else you might need, I'll keep them for you."
"That'sssss.... ACHHU!"
"Bless you. So what do you say? Would you... want to go with me? Maybe? I promise not to step on your feet."
"Miss L/N?! What on earth are you doing out of bed?!"
"MADAME POMFREY!" You both exclaim, faces and necks feeling hot.
"Come on, dear, why don't you ever follow simple orders?!"
Mumbles of pathetic protest fall from your lips as the woman drags you back to the other side of the room. You knock into Neville’s knee on the way and so he’s quick to follow behind you with his own incoherent babble about the burn on his hand.
You're settled under the blankets once again and watch as the nurse's eyes bulge at the sight of the tall boy's perfectly cared for palm. She inspects the bandage, inquires about the pain and what the cause was, all while Neville can't keep the flushed look off his face.
"She— well... Y/N helped me out. It doesn't hurt anymore, I'm fine now, Ma'am."
As the said woman keeps a hold of his hand, she turns to you with daggers. "What did you use? A potion? Spell, perhaps? Mr Longbottom could have severe side-effects if you're not careful."
"He won't," you grin toothily as you did back in your first year and point to the shelf in the right corner. "I used the ointment that you gave Theodore Nott not that long ago. Haha, Nott not."
Neville stifles a laugh, and isn't surprised when the nurse doesn't question you further. You might be the only student that can get away with arguing with Madame Pomfrey.
The nurse's face instead takes the form of an appreciative and impressed expression. It's only natural that with your ‘weak immune system’, you've gained as much medical knowledge as you have colds and flus.
"I'll admit, you've done a splendid job with Neville. However, you simply cannot use whatever you like, whenever you like, on whomever you like. Next time this happens you need to wait for me to return, alright? Is that understood?"
Taking a glance at Neville's sheepish state, you sigh and nod in response.
"And Neville dear, don't encourage this behaviour. Especially not from Miss L/N."
"Okay, Ma'am."
She gives the boy a goodbye and immediately turns to you, a full on lecture spilling from her mouth. He isn’t supposed to leave yet, not when he’s just finally had the courage to ask you out.
Neville finds your helpless gaze behind the woman’s shoulder, and sends you a sad sort of smile before turning on his heel to get to the door.
"I-I'll go with you!" You yell.
The tall boy pauses, heart flipping at your words.
"To the Yule Ball."
There’s no stopping the grin that forms, and he finally nods after a second, hair shaking with the action.
Your eyes speak to him as your own smile appears.
Meanwhile, the woman huffs and puffs, cleaning the area around your bed. "Not in this state, you won't."
»»————- ⌁ ————-««
Neville's 5th Year
The last time Neville was in the hospital wing, he'd come to talk to you about his recent endeavours in Herbology and let slip that he's been secretly practicing defensive magic with a group of other students, being taught by none other than Harry himself. There was no doubt that you would also be trusted enough to join, however seeing as you were once again bed-ridden, it felt best to keep it a secret until you got better.
Now it wasn't a secret anymore, and each time he'd visit you'd ask him to put in a good word with Harry, with the group. Neville always said he would, but he never did, fearing that Professor Umbitch would eventually catch onto you and you'd have to pay the ultimate price.
Karma is an Umbitch, however, and now it looks as if the only answer to Neville's current predicament is to let you join Dumbledore's Army, despite all his worries and his efforts to stop you from doing that.
Today’s DA training has been cut short, due to the fact that the fifteen-year old is now incapacitated. Blood refusing to slow down from his nose.
Going to Madame Pomfrey would've required him to come up with a believable story as to what happened, so the next best thing was to send for you, someone who already knows about this secret group.
"Neville!" A Ravenclaw boy shouts, interrupting his thoughts. "Your Bogey Bug is here— ow!"
Someone smacks the kid, and then suddenly the Weasley twins are leading you into the Room of Requirement. You stand over him, adorning new pajamas he hadn't seen before.
"Hey Achoo," he weakly smiles. "Thanks for coming."
The DA gather around, as you crouch to his side and immediately take the cloth he's been holding to his nose. You make a face at him. “Oh Neville… what are we going to do with you?”
A fresh line of blood rolls down to his lip, so you let him leave the fabric there to sink it in.
"Keep your head steady, okay? Don't lean back, just let the blood flow for now."
"I think my nose might be broken?"
"Neville, I swear to..." your head spins sharply, and a few students flinch. "Who did this?"
"We were practicing stupefy," the familiar voice of Seamus answers and immediately your tense shoulders relax seeing his face emerge behind the twins. "I didn't mean to. I swear, Y/N."
"He really didn't mean to," Neville echoes.
You sneeze into your elbow and shake your head, palm making contact with your cheek. "See, this is why you should’ve told me about this secret army group thing so I could've joined and stopped something like this from happening.”
"I'm sorry."
You take Neville's hand again and lift the cloth, checking over the damage. There is damage, alright. You try not to make a show of wincing, fearing that the brown-haired boy would get anxious by your reaction, but his nose really does look quite out of sorts. Out of line. Broken.
He realises you haven't said a word in a while and smiles again, "you can fix, can't you, Achoo?"
"I told Neville I could treat him, but he kept refusing and insisted for your presence," Luna's soft voice interrupts as she crouches down beside you.
Someone amongst the crowd starts to coo and the tips of Neville's ears manage to turn beet red, more so when you turn your attention to him, expression unreadable.
Luna carries on, eyes focused on you. "He wouldn't let anyone touch him. Not until now, anyway."
"Okay!" A sudden clap startles even Luna, and you all turn to the perpetrator. Harry Potter's back is turned to your direction as he addresses the crowd, "I think we'll call it a day. Neville needs his strength and so do you."
The crowd murmurs, exchanging pouts and disappointed shrugs.
"Be proud of yourselves, you all did brilliantly today. Each and every one of you have improved. Next time we get to meet we'll continue with the Patronus Charm."
"What about Bogey Bug? How do we know she's not gonna rat us out?" A girl in Hufflepuff asks.
Neville sees you stand up, slapping a hand over your chest. "I swear on my life and the life of Neville—."
"Hey!"
"—that I will not snitch on this group or expose any of you. I promise to be loyal and keep my mouth shut about this."
Some faces don't seem convinced, as more murmurs and chatter erupt.
"She can be our nurse!" Neville exclaims, stealing everyone's attention. It's time to put in that good word for you. "We won't have to go to the hospital wing if Achoo— I mean, Y/N is here. She's really good at what she does. Plus, I accidentally told her about the army about a month ago and she hasn't told a soul since. I do..."
Your big eyes soften when he turns to you.
"...I trust her with my life."
"All right then," Harry claps once more. "All those in favour of Y/N becoming part of the army, raise your hand."
A few hands come up, whilst others whisper for a moment. One more, then four more, and then more hands raise faster than you can count them. You and the broken-nosed boy share grins, as you squeeze his free hand.
"That's it then. Y/N, welcome to Dumbledore's Army."
»»————- ⌁ ————-««
Neville’s 6th year
Following the events of the previous year of school you and Neville had grown ever closer. Outside of the classroom you'd never be seen without the other. Inseparable. There'd even been a rumour going around that you were dating, but you always denied such claims and Neville could only comply. He hadn't yet told anyone about his feelings for you, although it seemed that those in his close circle were figuring it out on their own.
After having looked like a lost pygmy puff in the Great Hall, Luna found Neville and mentioned to him that you looked 'out of sorts' during class. He hadn't even asked about you. She just knew to tell him.
So, it’s only fitting for him to be by your side now, during lunch hour.
You’re shivering underneath all the sheets and blankets, and yet as Neville glides the back of his fingers across your forehead, you’re sweating as well.
“Hang in there Achoo, you’ll be fine in no time. The spell will take effect.”
You can only give so much as a nod, and groan when your lower abdomen tightens with a deep, stabbing ache.
“Shh,” Neville smooths his delicate fingers over your forehead again, tucking loose strands back to their place with the rest of your hair. “I'm here. Do you want me to distract you with anything?"
"Anything," you squeak, eyes shut tightly as if doing that would stop your cramps and make you fall asleep faster. "Please."
"Alright, erm..." He slides his tongue over his bottom lip and leans in closer to you, elbow pressing into the mattress. "I suppose I can tell you about a dream I had not long ago. You were in it."
"The Hippogriff one?" You tremble.
"No, this is a new one," he smiles when you meet his gaze, finding your fingers peeking through the sheets and taking them into his hands. "It's really stupid, as dreams usually go, but I really like it."
Your fingers are stretched out, as Neville begins to trace over your palm. First he draws a circle and you giggle a little at the feeling.
"This is me," he draws a triangle, "and this is you. It seems like any ordinary day, except you and I have the same classes. In the dream we're both popular. Everyone cheers for us when we get good marks, and even Professor Snape smiles at you."
"No way."
He laughs and traces a shape with lots of spikes. "Yes way. It really seems too good to be true, because there's even a moment where we successfully sneak out at night, we're just in our pajamas and we're watching the stars from the astronomy tower."
"I'm waiting for the 'but'."
"But — here comes the stupid part — you just start flying out of nowhere. One second you're next to me, the next you're just in the sky. I'm freaking out trying to reach for your hand, but you're just so calm about the fact that you mysteriously gained the ability to fly."
You're giggling again, especially as he slaps your palm a few times to emphasise the story. "Accurate reaction."
"And then it just ends with me being able to breath fire."
"What?" You laugh, brows pulling together in amusement. "I wonder what Professor Trelawney would say about that. What all of it might represent."
He draws a line on each of your fingers, slow and tickly. "If it's anything like I've been told before, it probably means bad luck."
"Well I was also in the dream with you, so we'll go through the bad luck together." To his surprise, you thread your fingers through his and squeeze. You're not trembling anymore, you haven't been for the past minute or so, and it doesn't feel like you're being stabbed over and over in the stomach.
"Think you can sleep now?" He asks, fingers hesitantly unravelling.
You nod, grinning at him, those eyes of yours finally shining as bright as they usually do.
"Want me to go get Madame Pomfrey?"
You shake your head. And then your arms are around his neck, head tucked in the space between your bicep and his jawline.
It feels like a millennium till he returns your gesture, arms securing around your waist and back, pulling you in tightly and desperately. The mix of the wing's clinical scent and the smell of baked desserts fills his nose. He could've sworn he'd smelt something like this during Potions class.
"Stay with me," you purr. "Please."
He knows he has class in ten minutes, he knows he can't skip, he knows he'll get in trouble.
So with your arms determined to remain wrapped around each other he bends over, moving till your head meets the pillow. He kicks off one of his school shoes. Then the other.
You feel his knees dip into the mattress beside your thighs, and then you have to part for a moment as he slips under the blankets, his head settling on the pillow right beside yours.
When he's comfortable, you take one of his hands and lower it until he brushes over your clothed belly.
Keeping the heat from entering his ears and cheeks is impossible, as his hand flattens over your stomach, shock evident in his features from your bold action.
"Could you keep it there?" You say, when you feel his uncertainty. "It'll help if the cramps come back." Your own hands smooth over his, trapping him there.
"I will." He swallows thickly. "Are you comfortable?"
You nod. "Are you?"
"Absolutely. Yes. I am."
A content breath passes your lips and you smile, all giddy like, at the ceiling. "Thank you for being here. For being with me always. For not making fun of me being sick all the time. Not calling me Bogey Bug. For... for just being you. For being my most favourite person ever."
"I could really say the same about you." Both your voices are barely above a whisper, seeing as your faces are so close together.
"Thanks Neville," you turn to him, and tap the back of his hand on your belly.
You stare at each other for a moment, and for some reason it doesn't feel wrong. It's not awkward.
Neville breaks the silence. "You... you know how everyone keeps saying that we're... you know going out?"
"Yeah."
Neville pauses for a second, you're staring so intensely, pupils large and beautiful. He tries to swallow past the lump in his throat and squeezes the material of your clothes. He can talk to you, he can ask you the question. He's battled against Bellatrix Lestrange before, he's been put in Gryffindor for a reason. He can ask you. "What do you say we make those rumours... not rumours anymore?"
The corners of your mouth twitch. "You-You mean... you mean like...?"
"Yes. Like that. Like... I want to spend the rest of my life with you, sort of way."
You don't say anything.
He continues, with a small bite of his lip. "Like... I'm completely mad for you and if I don't tell you now I don't think I'll ever get the chance to again."
"This... isn't a dream, is it?"
"Can I prove to you this isn't a dream?"
"Okay."
And it really feels like a dream, as his face leans in and you feels his lips press against the corner of your mouth.
"Did that help?" he whispers.
You twist around to lay on your side, guiding Neville's big hand up to your waist. "You missed, Neville."
"What?"
"You missed."
This time you both lean in, and this time Neville doesn't miss.
»»————- ⌁ ————-««
Neville’s 7th year
The last Horcrux has been destroyed, Voldemort's killed, the Death Eaters have fled. New life has been brought to Hogwarts, sun pooling through the shattered windows of the Great Hall.
People sit on broken stools, torn and ashy blankets, chatter quiet and solemn. A few people manage to tell jokes and liven the mood, others cuddle, kiss, crying tears of relief. Nurses scamper around tending to the badly wounded.
Only...
As Neville limps his way through the hall he desperately scans over the crowds only to realise you're not here. You're not by Madame Pomfrey. You're not by Luna either. Neville finds Ginny's tired but hopeful figure and before he can tap her shoulder, she's already turned to him with a gentle smile.
She shakes her head before he even has a chance to speak. "I haven't seen Y/N. Not since... well not since she took care of Freddie. 'M sorry Neville."
"No," he shakes his head and gives the girl a gentle hug when her voice wavers and her bottom lip quivers. "No, I'm sorry."
"You helped kill Voldemort. That's hardly anything to be sorry for," she smiles again as they part, softly pushing at his shoulder to leave. To keep searching for you. "Don't worry, I'll keep an eye out for her."
Neville sends her a purposeful nod and turns to leave, the sword of Gryffindor still snug in his hand. At times he uses the weapon as a crutch, the pain in his everything starting to take a toll as previous rushes of adrenaline begin to fade. The only thing keeping him going is the thought of you. You and your sneezes, your messy hair, your often nasally voice, your big eyes and equally big grins. You.
He passes what looks to be remnant of the hospital wing's door, merely a pile of wood chips and metal beams now. He hears the distant tweet of a bird, the pitter-patter of loose rubble and someone's sneeze.
The sword clangs to the ground and he's sprinting. Neville rounds the corner of the entrance to the wing and he stops, breath heavy, vision blurry.
You're there, and you're already staring at him, your grin so large and your eyes even more so and you're holding onto something familiar.
"N-Neville?" your voice is soft and so stuffy and gorgeous.
"Achoo, good Godric." His sore legs carry him to your side, and you're running toward him, arms open. And then you jump and he completely forgets about how much pain he's in when he catches you.
You cling to his sweater, to his shoulders, to his neck, to his waist, squeezing him with every bit of strength you've got left.
He's grasping at your hoody, your waist, your hair, your skin, he's touching all of you, scared that if he'll let go you won't be there anymore.
"I love you so much," he says through a trembling voice.
You pull away slightly and return your feet to the ground, legs unwrapping from his hips. You crane your neck to kiss his jaw, and then you kiss his cheek and his other and then finally his lips. And it sets your heart on fire, full of adoration and care and relief. You don't ever want to stop feeling him here, his supple lips against yours, especially as his hands cup your jaw, reeling you in for more and more.
"I love you Neville," you cry when you finally have to pull away to catch your breaths. "Ever since I first met you. You and your twisted ankle."
He chuckles, tenderly wiping a tear from the apple of your cheek with his thumb. He scans over the room for a moment, as he feels your fingers come to dance over the dry trail of blood from his head wound.
"I don't think we're ever gonna leave this place," he says with a caress of your jaw.
Following his gaze, you giggle. Those beds you spent countless nights on, those countless concoctions and medical supplies you've had used on you, they're all here, scattered and battered around the room.
"That's why I came here instead of the Hall," you say, keeping one arm around your boyfriend's waist and unravelling the other to reveal an intact jar of creamy coloured ointment. "I'm so sorry, I must've scared you nuts."
"Scared me to death more like, but all I had to do was listen out for your sneezes. Turns out it isn't that hard to find you."
You poke your tongue out and he laughs. "That's so embarrassing. Always comes back to me being a Bogey Bug."
"Yeah," he smoothly pulls you in for an ardent kiss, "my Bogey Bug."
"You know what else I am?"
You're leaning against his arms that are wrapped around you and he watches as you take off the lid of the jar. Just like his fourth year, you use your fingers to scoop up a teaspoon of the cream.
"What? What else are you?"
You step out and take one of his hands, letting his palm sit over the top of yours. And then the cream is applied over the burns on the back of his hands. In spite of these burns looking way worse than his wound from Potions class back in his fourth year, the pain is still barely felt once the ointment's smoothed over. What's also killing the sting is looking at your breathtaking eyes. He's lost in them, distracted completely.
"I'm also your nurse," you finally say, wiping the excess over your hoody.
Neville's mouth curls into a smirk, snaking his arms around you again and pressing your bodies tightly together. "Well, nurse. My lips are feeling kind of sore, do you think you can fix them?"
You hum, eyes twinkling with mischief as your hands link behind his neck.
His gaze dips to your mouth, trying to fight the heat flowing to his cheeks and ears. There will never be a time when you won't make him nervous and giddy.
You mirror his action, eyes taking their time stare at his lips. "You know what, darling? I think I've got just the thing for you."
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rainydayathogwarts · 6 months
Text
neville longbottom smut
reader makes Neville cum in his pants at a party. warnings: dry humping, whimpering, public sex(?), swearing wc: around 0.9k
Your body sways to the music, the plastic cup in your hand spilling some of your drink onto your hand, but it only blends in with the shimmering glint of sweat on your skin. You're dancing with some girl you don't recognise, singing the words to a song at the top of your longs. You look around, trying to spot your boyfriend in the crowd, to make sure he's not doing anything he shouldn't be, only to notice him sitting on an armchair next to the fireplace, his eyes already on you.
He meets your gaze and your body suddenly goes hot, despite the warmth from the alcohol that had already settled in. He was keeping an eye on you, butterbeer in hand, not focused on anything else. You grin, pushing your way through the dance floor until you finally stumble away from the crowd of sweaty bodies and into the more dispersed area of the busy common room. You giggle when you approach Neville, watching as his eyes run along you figure. You down the rest of your drink, putting the now empty cut next to what you assumed was the empty bottle butter beer Neville had already had. "You okay sweetheart?" He asks and you nod, shifting to stand between his legs.
He sits up straight to put his hands on the back of your thighs, pulling you slightly closer to him; the most affection he'd giving you tonight. He offers you a sip of butterbeer but you decline, watching as he brings his lips to the bottle, his adam's apple bobbing up and down as he swallows, before putting the bottle aside. You bring a hand up to play with his hair as your hips start moving again, the other arm on his shoulder. You look down at the boy below you and sigh in pleasure as his hands start moving up and down your thighs.
His head leans on your lower stomach, his attention caught by the dancing bodies. You furrow your eyebrows, glancing over at the dance floor to look at all the girls in their tight dresses. You huff. The hand you have in his hair closes moderately into a fist and you tug it backwards slightly, making Neville look up at you, only to be met by your lips slamming down onto his. He moans loudly, his hands on your thighs moving so his arms can wrap around you.
His mouth immediately opens to welcome your tongue in and you put your weight onto him, pushing him back into the armchair as you climb onto him, your legs coming on either side of his thighs as you straddle him. Neville whimpers, the sound drowned by the music, his arms tightly wrapping themselves around your waist to pull you impossibly closer. And he does, dragging you across his lap so your panty-clad cunt grinds against his fully clothed dick.
You both moan into each other, and you feel your boyfriend's usually gentle hands travel down to your ass, roughly gripping it. You grind against Neville once more to see how comfortable he is with this, and he separates from the kiss to gasp for air, his mouth open in a silent moan. Your eyes scan the room, checking to see if you had attracted anyone's unwanted eyes, but your attention is brought back to Neville, who tugs your dress further down your thighs, having ridden up when you straddled him.
When you make eye contact with him again, his eyes are begging you to continue your movements and so is the tent in his pants. You push your hips down onto his and moan quietly, biting your lip. Neville's eyes widen and he looks around for a second before turning his attention back to you, a hand coming behind your neck to pull you into a kiss, the other one pushing your hips into his.
He gently humps his hips up into yours to encourage your movements, grunting as though he has never had your legs spread for him, and you dig your face into the crook of his neck, letting out a breathy moan. Your hot breath on his neck sends shivers down Neville's spine and he pants, leaning his head on your shoulder and looking down through the top of your dress. He whines, eyes widening at the sight of your tits, his hands immediately coming up to grope them. You let out a high pitched moan when he squeezes one of your perky nipple, hips bucking into his desperately, so that your pussy grinds right against the tent in his jeans, feeling the imprint of his cock against you.
Neville bites your shoulder to cover the loud whimpers that come out of him, hands gripping your thighs as he roughly bucks his hips into yours. That's when you feel the wetness on his jeans, this time not coming from you, and you grin proudly, pulling Neville into a kiss. He returns the kiss, still panting, his hands now softly caressing your sides. When you both separate from the kiss and Neville finally catches his breath, he says "How about we go upstairs and I can finish you off?"
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cleake · 2 years
Text
HP Characters Reacting To You Drawing Them
Warning: I didn't read the books, these are my headcanons and personal ideas for the characters. It's just for fun. :)
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Harry:
-"Oh! Brilliant! Yeah, sure." -He is a bit shy, but flattered, very flattered -He sits in front of you, with a nervous smile, sometimes adjusting his glasses or hair -You assure him that he looks great and he relaxes a bit, sitting more comfortably -While you work he asks from time to time some questions about your drawing journey and listens closely to your answers -He thinks about how you're going to draw his scar, are you going to make it a key thing, or represent him in another way? -When you finish and show him your work he's astonished by your talent -"Wow! This is really good! I can keep it? Oh! Thanks!"
Ron:
-"You want to draw me? I don't think I'm that special." -He's a bit hesitant at first, he feels like he doesn't deserve attention, since he is not "The Chosen One" -But you make him believe otherwise -When sat down Ron is stiff, looking away from you, smiling nervously -You tell him that he looks great and he smiles a bit more confident -He suggests ideas on how you can present him, and he comes up with some sick propositions -Once you're finished he's so happy that he has something made by someone only for him -"Bloody hell, it's fantastic! You need to show your skill more often."
Hermione:
-"Draw me? Well if it makes you happy." -She pretends that it's nothing, she may look annoyed, but inside she cares -She fixes her hair or clothes when you aren't looking -She sits properly, legs together, hands on her lap, head slightly tilted, and a soft smile on her lips -She is mostly silent but asks you questions about what you are doing at a certain moment, she's curious -She's patient, giving you time to make your art perfect, she knows how hard it can be -She's very supportive when she sees your finished work -"This is lovely!"
Fred:
-"Oh yeah? So my beauty captured you this much?" -He's so happy about it but can help not to tease you -"Are you interested in a more intimate portrait?" -He sits in a confident way, taking a lot of space -He gives you ideas for the drawing, like how he could look good on a broom, or fighting You-Know-Who -After he's done with his jokes he lets you work in silence, just sometimes giggling to himself because of your focused expression -When you sometimes look up at him, he sends you a quick wink -He's very happy when you finish the drawing, he'll show it to his friends -"Thank you, dear, we can repeat this if you want."
George:
-"You got the right twin? Because I am not sharing this position." -He's more mature about this than his twin, but he has it in his nature to make some not-in-place comments -He gives you control, you decide how he sits or holds his hands -He's intrigued by how you work, but stays silent, just looking at you -He hums quietly, gently moving his head, when you tell him to stop moving he winks at you with a smirk, but completes your order -He's moved when he sees your done work, he feels appreciated for him -"Thank you, it's beautiful."
Ginny:
-"That's nice of you." -She doesn't ask a lot of questions, just lets you do your work -She's happy to pose for you, it makes her feel seen -She smiles when you accidentally make a silly face but doesn't point it out -When you're finished she takes a while to admire your work -"It's amazing, thank you."
Luna:
-"I would love to, sitting can be fun too." -She's very calm, listens to your instructions, and is very patient -She asks you how you got to draw, or what inspires you to create, she's nice to have conversations with -She has her glasses on her nose, sitting with her knees to her chest -When you're finished she's very happy -"Oh, it's magnificent. I am so happy to keep it."
Neville:
-"Me? Are you sure?" -He's very self-conscious, and thinks you're doing it out of pity, but you assure him it's not like that -He's very nervous, he doesn't know what to do with his hands, you have to guide him a little bit -He thinks he looks bad at every angle, but you tell him that everything is perfect and that makes him feel a bit more confident -He is so grateful for this art piece, he keeps it close to him at all times -"Wow, that is so pretty, thank you Y/N."
Draco:
-"Why? For what?" -He doesn't feel comfortable with this and is suspicious you have bad intentions -But his pride wins over him and he lets you draw him -He sits proudly with a serious look on his face -He says nothing, just watches you, expecting your work will be not as high as his expectations -But he's shocked when he sees your done work -He keeps it in his room, away from others -"Well that's not as bad as I thought it will be."
Tom:
-"I can agree to that." -He sees this as an opportunity to capture his image for future -He wears his best suit, rings on his fingers, and in his hand a dark book -He sits with his head high, one leg on the other, leaning on the armchair -He doesn't talk but nods his head in approval when you stop drawing for a moment -He's very satisfied with the result and keeps the drawing well hidden -"That is good, thank you for your time."
5K notes · View notes
via-l0ve · 9 months
Note
Harry potter golden era and calling them cute nicknames in a language (pls dont specify which) that they don't know. They don't know the exact meaning but the understand it's something similar to darling or sweetheart.
Sentimental Nicknames 🩷 (HP Pref!)
a/n: hii!! i hope you enjoy this! i didn’t specify any languages and i tried to make it gender neutral!! love yaa🫶🏻🫶🏻
warnings: like one swear word, but that’s all!! <3
characters included: Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, Ron Weasley, Neville Longbottom, Draco Malfoy.
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Harry Potter:
blushes every time you say it
he literally adores it
he’s so smitten for you and when you call him that nickname he might have LITERALLY zero idea what it means besides the fact that it’s endearing and he MELTS
when harry blushes the tips of his ears turn red and his cheeks turn pink and he just smiles like a little cutie
:(((
if anyone asks him about it
“hey, what does it mean? that nickname?”
“oh, i dunno really.”
he just smiles
he loves it sm
he deserves more love <3
he would def melt for any nicknames but there’s something about that one that just 🥰
Hermione Granger:
she totally looks it up in one of her books
I think she’d be intrigued and want to give you a cute nickname in a different language
she loves to hear you say it and will tell you that.
“i love it when you call me that, y/n.”
now you just say it more and she giggles and kicks her feet
if her friends ask about it she will deep dive into the origins and why you call her it and why she loves it so much and everything
Ron Weasley:
his siblings totally tease him about it
“look at little ronald! getting called a cute little nickname.” - george
“they grow up so fast :(.” - fred
he has ZERO idea what it means and just smiles when you call him it
he’s like “oh fuck yeah that’s my nickname” :D
he loves the way your voice makes it sound
he’s just so happy lowkey
like cmon
if you say it in front of his friends he gets embarrassed </3
but it’s not a bad thing i think he’s just like “oh, attention?”
Neville Longbottom:
BLESS HIM!!
he gets SO shy
he’s like
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he deserves all the love.
esp if you say it and cradle his face/jaw in your hand and he gets SO RED
awwww
EVERYONE teases him about it :((
it’s okay though he’s so adorable for no reason
imagine this bb
he’s rambling about plants and you call him that and he just goes 👁️👄👁️
falls in love all over again.
awwwhhhhh i love him
Draco Malfoy:
i REFUSE to believe that draco is soft about nicknames
you’d call him it and he’d side eye you to the max
“what?”
you just smile and repeat it
he pretends to hate it but he rlly loves it
if you call him the nickname in front of his friends he’ll go BRIGHT red and become really interested in his shoes
you’ll just smirk
when you call him it in private he’s soft about it though
he asks you about it and just smiles
he’s a cutie (secretly)
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luvvyouforever · 3 months
Text
suddenly, neville {n.l. x reader}
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↳ three times that neville is there for you when heartbreak strikes and the one time he decides to do something about it.
↳ content: sadness, feelings of self-doubt/insecurities, slander against almost every hogwarts boy, fluff, friends to lovers, pining, neville being a shy sweetie. word count: 1684
1.
"and then he," sniff, "he told me he never liked me. that him and dean were just joking." you wiped tears from your eyes violently and neville felt his heart tearing in two for you. "i thought they were nice! why would seamus lie like that?"
"i don't know," neville answered honestly. he knew that his friends were pranksters, sometimes taking jokes a step too far. but he had never expected his best friend to come to him crying over a stupid idea the two had devised. he felt angry with them. how could they have done that to someone as beautiful as you?
"i just don't get it! why does everyone else get to have crushes and first kisses?" you huffed frustratingly. neville's first thought was that he should have kissed you then but his second thought was much more controlled and much more him. he reached out, patting your back and trying to inject as much comfort into the touch as he could. you stayed like that for a few minutes as your tears subdued. one final sniff and you were rising from neville's bed. "i'm sorry for this. you're the first person i wanted to come to."
neville rose immediately after, coming to stand at your side. even at thirteen years old, he towered above you. "don't apologize," he said in a serious tone. "it's okay. i'm here for you. always-oof-"
neville's voice was cut off by your frame crashing into his, pulling him into a tight hug. he wasn't used to the touch or the affection and after immediately tensing, he relaxed and wrapped his own arms around you. something bloomed inside neville's chest and though he tried to push it down, you couldn't help but hear his heartbeat quicken.
2.
neville's experience at the yule ball wasn't as fun as he had hoped for. ginny was a great date and he danced through the entire night but something in his chest didn't feel right. you weren't there, enjoying the once-in-a-lifetime experience with him. he thought that, at first, you were just late or maybe he couldn't spot you among the crowd. but two hours into the night and he hadn't seen you once.
he left the ball eventually and his first and only mission was to seek you out. he slipped through the halls of the castle, narrowly avoiding snape's patrol, in search of you. his feet took him toward an empty stairwell which echoed with quiet sounds of crying.
"y/n?" he called out timidly. the sniff from further up the stairs told him all he needed to know and eventually, he was standing before you. your dress was beautiful, your hair was done in an intricate updo that he knew must've taken hours, and yet you were sobbing alone. "what's going on?"
"cormac...he stood me up. didn't show, didn't owl me. nothing," you said, voice barely above a whisper. he could tell that you had been crying in this very same stairwell for a while based on the puffiness of your eyes and the rasp in your throat. gingerly, he took a seat by your side.
without thinking, your head leaned on his shoulder and the pins in your hair poked his skin. something about his presence visibly eased your pain and he was so glad that he could offer you that.
really, neville wanted to be the one to take you to the yule ball. to be the one that watched you walk down the stairs in your dress. to be the one that danced with you all night long, breathless and laughing. but he was too nervous to do such a thing and instead asked ginny. neville silently reprimanded himself for not being more brave and said, "you look beautiful, you know?"
he could feel your smile against his shoulder. that was all he needed.
3.
"hey neville...did you hear that y/n broke up with zabini last night?" seamus whispered. "apparently it was a whole big scene."
neville didn't know about that actually and hearing it from seamus first hurt him more than he wanted to admit. instead of answering his friend, he poured his attention in to brewing his potion to hopefully get out of snape's class unscathed.
a few hours had passed until he entered the greenhouse for his advanced herbology practices class which he had begged you to take with him. and there you were, carefully plucking weeds out of a venomous tentacula pot. "hey!" he said, coming up behind you.
you turned and he saw the night's effects on your face. dark circles, puffy eyes, a warm sweater covering your body instead of your usual perfect uniform. something tugged at his heart and if he could, he would've wrapped you up and swept you away immediately.
"hey nev," you said with a forced smile. "i'm assuming you heard the news since you're looking at me like i'm a kicked puppy."
he didn't respond but nodded, pulling on his own gardening gloves to assist you in your task. he knew you'd tell him about it without him having to pull it out of you.
"he was nice and all...but he was really mean sometimes and his friends didn't like me. i figured i was too good to put up with more comments about my hair and my uniform and my house but now i'm not so sure." there was a crack in your voice that you cursed.
this time, neville didn't hesitate to pull you into his arms. he had gotten taller, stronger, braver. he was still a gangly mess of limbs but now he knew how to control them and how to offer the best hugs he could. his arms were tight around your shoulders and a few tears slipped from your eyes. his head leaned down and laid upon yours.
"you are too good for that, y/n. you're too good for all of them. i just wish you could see that," neville whispered against your hair. you took in his words, digested them one by one, and felt slightly better. you pulled away and looked at him with watery eyes. from that moment forward, neville knew he would do anything to preserve your happiness and bring a smile to your face. he knew that he was in love with his best friend of six years.
4.
"i don't know what you want from me, draco! i've tried to please you and make you happy a hundred times but it's never good enough!"
"no, it never is and it never will be! god, can't you see i stopped liking you weeks ago? with your nagging and neediness and crying, i don't think you'd ever be good enough for anyone."
neville stopped in his tracks outside the greenhouses. two voices yelled back and forth at each other and he easily distinguished them as y/n and presumably her now ex-boyfriend. neville's fist clenched at the words draco spat at his best friend.
suddenly, he heard stomping and draco flew by him in a rage. quickly, he rushed to where the voices were coming from and found you on the cold ground, upset but not crying. you didn't even look up when he came over and he took it upon himself to sit down next to you. no words were exchanged until-
"i don't know why i try. i don't know why nothing ever works for me. why i keep crying over boys, stupid boys. i don't know why i feel so worthless when those stupid boys break up with me. the worst thing, i think, is that i believe every word malfoy just said. that i won't be good enough for anyone. i will just graduate, work, live alone in a cottage, and watch everyone else fall in love around me but never with me," you rambled. words of self-doubt kept coming from your lips but you didn't know how to stop them. it was a ever-flowing stream of consciousness that neville bared for you. finally, your lips stopped moving and your mouth stopped producing sound. you took in a shaky breath and began to stand. neville's hand flew to your wrist and pulled you back down to the ground.
there, his eyes met yours with such an unwavering intensity that kept you planted. "listen to me, y/n," he started, "i have watched you cry over too many boys to deal with this any longer. not a single one of them deserved you or your love. you give so much and it crushes me that you get so little. do not believe draco, or zabini, or cormac when they make you feel like you're not good enough because you are. you're beautiful, so beautiful, and intelligent, kind, caring, witty, and anyone would be lucky to have you. i know because i have fallen so in love with you the past seven years and even in your ruined yule ball dress or your messy gardening clothes, i feel lucky to be by your side."
your eyes were wide at neville's confession but he didn't back down or take back his words. in fact, he felt relief knowing that his feelings were in the air now. after seven years of growing, he felt brave enough to admit things like that and do things like this.
"maybe the reason nothing ever worked is because i was always seeking you in everyone else," you finally whispered. neville's hand gravitated towards yours and like a moth drawn to an achingly beautiful flame, his lips found yours.
the kiss was everything you had been looking for. sweet, firm, passionate, but gentle. neville would never be mean to you, never degrade you, lie to you, stand you up, or do anything but offer peace and happiness as long as you live.
after a minute of pulling apart then reconnecting, neville leaned his forehead against yours. "i didn't know you had gotten so cliche, blossom." seven years of holding you had led to this and neville wouldn't change a single part of the journey.
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urwhorecrux · 3 months
Text
⋆ ˚⁀➷ ₊˚⊹⋆ 𝗛𝗣 𝗣𝗥𝗘𝗙𝗘𝗥𝗘𝗡𝗖𝗘𝗦 - 𝗧𝗛𝗘𝗜𝗥 𝗟𝗢𝗩𝗘 𝗟𝗔𝗡𝗚𝗨𝗔𝗚𝗘𝗦
ft. harry potter, ron weasley, draco malfoy, cedric diggory, & neville longbottom.
pairings. harry potter boys x gn!reader.
warnings. fluff, mentions of kissing, established relationships.
masterlist | my preferences
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— 𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐘 𝐏𝐎𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑
words of affirmation + reassurance.
— your kind words to him mean a lot, especially after everything he’s been through in his life all he wanted to hear were trusting and loving words. reassuring words mean even more to him, when he’s panicking or stressed with everything during war, it’s nice to have someone to calm him down and be there comforting him.
— 𝐑𝐎𝐍 𝐖𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐋𝐄𝐘
acts of service.
— he appreciates everything you do for him, even if it’s something small and simple. at times hermione can be busy or unwilling to help him study, so when you offer it really means everything to him. after rough, tiring quidditch practices he is achy and sore, and gladly accepts your offer for a massage. helping him and molly baking in the kitchen during the holidays almost makes him cry happy tears.
— 𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐎 𝐌𝐀𝐋𝐅𝐎𝐘
gift giving.
— he can’t help but spoil you as it puts a huge grin on your face that makes him more than happy. he notices almost every little thing you look at, wether its for one second or five minutes he’s buying it. he’ll never return back from hogsmeade without a gift for you in his hand. seeing you have anything you want makes him actually cheerful, and he doesn’t hide it.
— 𝐂𝐄𝐃𝐑𝐈𝐂 𝐃𝐈𝐆𝐆𝐎𝐑𝐘
physical touch.
— once you opened up to him in the beginning of the relationship and showed how comfortable you can be around him, the more affectionate he showed towards you. it doesn’t even matter where you are, wether it’s in public or even in the same room he’ll always have an arm around your shoulders, waist, or his hand intertwined with yours. when falling asleep he will literally hold you or even lay all over you. when you run your fingers through his messy hair he would literally melt.
— 𝐍𝐄𝐕𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐄 𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐁𝐎𝐓𝐓𝐎𝐌
acts of service + quality time.
— spending time with him and showing him that you’re actually there for him lets him open up to you even more. complimenting a new project or even showing interest in a subject he’s interested in as well means so much to him that someone would care too. if you preferred to spend time with him in quiet he wouldn’t mind that either, as long as you’re somewhat close to each other it’s all he needs.
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dreamingonfilm · 1 year
Text
✧˖*°࿐ Pumpkin Bread pt. 2 | N.L
Neville Longbottom x gn!reader, fluff
Summary: In which your relationship with Neville blooms in ways you could never imagine.
Part 1
w/c: 2.3k
Request: Yes
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Your relationship with Neville grew close rather quickly, and more often than not, you’d find yourself hanging out with the boy in the greenhouse for hours; your secrets being shared in between fits of laughter and embarrassment. However, this was not to say that it was easy, there had been many times where your mouth seemed to run off on its own, a deep regret flushing through your whole body whenever you’d realize that you had just insulted your new-found friend. But thankfully, the boy always understood.
Today was the last day of your detention, and you’d now be able to spend your free time however you’d want. Four weeks ago, you were impatiently praying for this day to come sooner, knowing that you would no longer be obligated to spend time in the greenhouse. But now, the end of your punishment was something that you had been dreading, all thanks to the shy Gryffindor who knew so much about plants. 
You had forgotten about a life that didn’t include you stressing over Herbology, or your yelling at the brown haired boy whenever he’d get mud on your robe. How were you to continue as normal, if this was what you now craved? The long walks back to your dorms as you two tried to make the most of the time you had left, the way his fingers would brush over yours every time he handed you pumpkin bread, and the way he would hug you each time you’d show him your latest Herbology quiz grade – a mere 72% blotched with red ink, something that he was so proud of you for.
Neville became a part of your everyday life, and you almost hated yourself for it. 
And just like all the other days during these past few weeks, you found yourself in that cold glass room alongside him. 
“(Y/N), can you pass me the scissors?” The boy’s voice broke through the calm ambiance. You looked up at him before passing him the small object from your hands. 
As he took care of the plants, ones you didn’t know the name for, you couldn’t help but wonder what would happen after today. His hands gently touched the plant, as the small snips filled the room; your eyes dancing between his concentrated face and the tender movements of his fingers. This is what you wanted every evening to look like.
Your eyes danced for a few seconds more before you dropped down to the floor with a small huff. The boy laughed softly before turning around to face you. Your habits now memorized as he grew to know you like the back of his hand. If it was attention that you wanted, then attention you would get. 
“What is it this time, hm?” His gaze softened as he watched you dramatically woe. 
“Nothing!” You responded rather aggressively, turning away from him to face the wall.
He nodded before returning back to his plants, “Very well then.” 
You stared at him dead-panned, as you now realized that he grew accustomed to your antics. The air now becoming more stuffy as you try to figure out how you were going to ask him. Finally, after a few seconds of fiddling with your fingers, you spoke.
“Actually,” you looked up towards him, “I’ve been meaning to ask you something.”
“Hmm?” the boy hummed in response, still attending to the plants, not bothering to turn around to look at you.
The frog in your throat grew large before you finally asked, “What’s going to happen to us after today?”
He froze. His eyes now concentrated on his hands, not bothering to finish tending to the leaves that he was once so focused on. After a few moments of silence, he finally turned around, staring into your eyes as he brought himself down to you.
You scooted over to the side as he took in the space next to yours. His lanky legs filling in whatever room there was once left, and his body so close to yours that you could almost smell the detergent he used to do his laundry yesterday. He awkwardly turned his face towards yours, and gave you a small smile.
“Well, I’d imagine you’d go back to ignoring me, is that it?” 
You tried to figure out whatever look was now on his face. He seemed almost sad but at the same time, hopeful? This boy, one that has consistently slipped beneath your fingers and has accidentally hidden himself from the gaze of others, was now the only person that you could talk to without growing tired. Whenever you’d give him a cold glare, or sneered his name in a way that could only resemble Draco Malfoy, all he would do is give you a smile back, handing you his sweater – leaving a smudge of dirt on your hands. You wouldn’t get angry, you couldn't even find yourself to yell, this reckless and clumsy boy has now found himself in your heart. How could you ever go back to ignoring him, when his mere existence was enough for you to stand alone?
“No!” you looked down at your feet sheepishly, noticing how the tips of his shoes were touching yours – both of your knees rocking back and forth, “unless, you don’t want to talk to me anymore?”
You turned over to look at him, both of your noses almost touching as you felt his breath hit yours. A soft look in his eyes indicating that whatever feelings were locked in this garden, were those shared between both of you. 
“Then I guess it’s settled,” he stood up, grabbing hold of your hands and pulling you with him as he made his way back to the unattended plants, “you’re stuck with me.”
With a nervous smile, you grabbed hold to the scissors, helping him with whatever was left to tend to. He watched you in adoration – a feeling that would quickly come and go between the anxiousness of knowing that you were now his to keep outside this room. Neville’s heart was simply too full of love, and if it weren’t for you asking him that one simple question earlier, he feared that it would explode onto the glass ceiling for everyone to see. 
It was a love that was shared between him, you, and whatever poor plant you managed to get your hands on. The dirt on your face, and his thumb rubbing it off softly. Your hair full of leaves, and him there to pick them out.
“Don’t look until I tell you to!” The boy laughed, his large hands covering your eyes as he blindly led you to a place unknown.
You hesitantly nodded as you continued to walk, hearing the snapping of twigs and crunching of the dry grass below you. Small beams of the summer sunlight somehow managed to sneak in through his fingers, as you tried to figure out where on Earth you could be. If it were anyone else, they would be on the floor right now, you leaning over them as you call them almost every bad name in the book, but thankfully it was just Neville; you’d follow him blindly to hell if he asked it of you.
After 15 minutes of walking you finally came to a halt. The breeze ran past your shoulders as the boy slowly took his hands away from your face. You groaned at first, trying to adjust your eyesight to the brightness, before looking ahead at the scene that Neville had been keeping hidden.
A beautiful garden in full bloom, all different types of colors drowning in a pool of petals and thorns, dozens of plants whose names you couldn’t memorize no matter how long you tried. A small porcelain fountain right at the center that was flowing with fresh water. And right at the front, in Neville’s terrible handwriting, a sign that said “Our Garden.”
You were smiling so hard that the apples of your cheeks were starting to hurt, something that never in your life you’d imagine would be possible, and for the first time ever, there was no anger, there was no coldness, and there was no hatred. It was just pure happiness, one that was bestowed to you by the same boy that you couldn’t stand nearly half a year ago.
You turned around and wrapped him in a hug. “When, I mean, how,” you stuttered over your words, nearly mimicking him, “did you do this?”
“My Nan helped. She knew how much it would mean to you.”
“But it’s summer, how are they in full bloom?”
“Ever heard of magic, petal?” He laughed at your confused face.
“But, we aren’t allowed to use magic outside of school, and–”
“(Y/N), stop worrying so much. You sound just like me,” he released you from the hug and gave you a kiss on the forehead, “there’s a reason I said we’d have to keep this secret.”
You laughed silently through your nose and nodded, making your way hand in his to the garden. You admired the new found life with a sense of appreciation that wasn’t there before, pointing to each one and asking the boy beside you what it was. He would answer each time, not growing impatient, now even bothered when you’d forget seconds later. 
“And this one?”
“Asphodel.”
“And this one?”
“That’s - that’s also Asphodel.”
And after hours of admiration and awe, your attention was now placed fully on him. You took notice of his overgrown hair that fell right below his eyes, his slender fingers as he placed a daisy in your hair, the way he bit his lip out of nervousness from doing so. Here, right in front of you, in this garden, was the first day of your life.
If it were six months earlier, you would have greedily grabbed at it; squishing it in the palm of your hand before it had the chance to choose for itself. But when it came to Neville, you were not greedy. You wanted to yell his name out to the world, This is my friend Neville, you’d shout with a voice so full of hunger, And I’m so utterly in love with him that it makes me sick!
The daisy on your ear now stood on its own as the boy's fingers interlocked with yours. A shy smile on his face as he looked you in the eyes, the same eyes that he wanted to drown in. He’d throw himself in if it meant that he could be with you forever. 
“What are you thinking about?” You asked, both of your faces close, the air almost intimate.
“You.” He whispered, if it were any more quiet you would have mistaken it for the breeze.
“Mmm, what about me?”
“I just,” he took a deep breath in, the boy was scared and you knew it, “I just, really like you (Y/N). And I’m w-worried that you’re only going to ever see me as your friend, and that one day you’re going to find someone that can give you something more than a few plants an–”
Suddenly he found your lips pressed against his. His eyes opened wide at the sudden contact, but slowly closed themselves as he started to kiss you back. His hands made their way to your waist, and yours to his neck. You stayed like this for a few seconds; your teeth hitting the others as you both would laugh into the kiss, both of you trying to figure out what you were doing. It was an awkward first kiss, but it was yours. 
You both pulled away, your foreheads leaning against each other as you decided to break the silence, “It’s our garden, is it not?”
He nodded. 
“Then why would I ever leave.”
He smiled softly and brought his lips back down to yours. A kiss, short and simple, packed with so much tender love. A love that you couldn’t wait to explore for the rest of your life. And once again you found yourself hand in hand with the brunette, a grin placed upon both of your lips as you made your way back to his house, knowing that this was now the beginning of a new chapter that included something more.
His feet tripping over yours as you’d laugh at his clumsiness, the garden in full view, and in the oven – freshly baked pumpkin bread. 
✧˖*°࿐
thank you for reading! check out my masterlist here
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imajinxnation · 4 months
Text
Yule Ball
Harry Potter Boys x FEM!READER
SUMMARY // Your yule ball dress and how the boys react to your astounding beauty😘
TW // Fluff, Poly!Fred&George, FEMALE READER..
ALL GIFS AND IMAGES FOUND ON PINTEREST
NO INCEST ON FRED & GEORGE'S PART!!🤢🤮
There's only 10 gifs allowed per post so lmk if ya'll want a part two with others!!
Harry Potter
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When he first sees you walk into the room, your blood red dress swaying as you walk with confidence, he is stunned into silence. All he can do is give a goofy smile and admire your beauty as speaking is not an option unless he wants to say something embarrassing.
Ron Weasley
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Oh Christ.. As soon as he sees you, it takes his brain a minute to fully comprehend the absolute goddess standing in front of him. When he finally snaps out of his daze, he gives this really dumb laugh and smiles, blushing before looking down at the ground, not wanting you to see him looking like a fool.
Cedric Diggory
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Once he sees you in this gorgeous, innocent yellow coloured dress, he smiles, his hand out for you to take as he asks you to dance with him. He looks cool and calm on the outside.. but he is screaming on the inside at how flawlessly beautiful you look, and also hoping that he won't embarrass himself tonight.
Neville Longbottom
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Most people would probably think he'd be the most foolishly in love out of all the boys, but I disagree. He would smile gently, his eyes lovestruck as always when he sees you. He acts pretty normally around you other than his constant smile. He's not freaking out like the others because, in his eyes, this is how you always look; like a goddess.
Fred & George Weasley
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The fact that you look like an Angel next to these to mischevious demons is no coincidence. All three of you have agreed that your their Angel to their Demon. So when they saw you in this pure white dress, they laughed, knowing what you were going for, while also staring at you with so much love in their eyes.
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bvbygrl-writes · 4 months
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Hornee thought buuuttt imagine chilling in Nevilles common room and you're on his thigh, making out hard, and he's teasing you, touching you everywhere then his friends walk in and you get embarrassed and shy and get off him really quickly but they saw anyways. And they start teasing you about the wet spot you left on his thigh while Neville is just proud
🦡
the way I never know if my fingers are gonna type in 2nd or 3rd person is wild
THIS BLURB IS 18+!!! MINORS / ACCOUNTS WITHOUT AGE DNI YOU WILL BE BLOCKED WITH NO WARNING BUT THIS ONE.
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Everyone else had decided to head to the Quidditch game, Slytherin vs Gryffindor meaning not a singular person could be found that wasn't out there in the stands watching it go down. Well, every person was present besides you and Neville.
The two of you had split a spliff about half an hour ago and sometime between then and now the cuddling and soft kisses you two had been exchanging turned into a mess of tangled limbs and sticky, wet kisses. You became hyper aware of the way your pussy was tingling between your legs as Neville let a low growl escape from his throat. His lips brushed against your, his large calloused hands palming at the soft flesh of your ass.
"Look at you, petal. Getting all worked up from a bit of kissing. Haven't even touched your pussy and yet I can feel it drooling through my slacks." he teased, dragging his lips along the nape of your neck. You whimpered at his words, continuing to rub your messy cunt against his upper thigh.
"Feels so good, Nev." you whined out. He coos at you, beginning to suck at the junction between your neck and shoulder. Everything felt so slow and overwhelmingly pleasurable. You didn't notice he had moved his hands to your front until he snapped the waistband of your panties against your skin causing you to yelp, jumping a bit. Resting his forehead against yours, he gazes into your eyes deeply. Teasingly, he drags his thumbs under the waistband, knuckles gently brushing against the top of your pubic bone.
"I love how needy you get for me. Always such a messy little thing, baby." he mutters, pulling your bottom lip between his teeth, gently nibbling. You lean forward, lips clattering together clumsily but he easily corrects it, deepening the kiss as he slips his tongue in. The cold metal of his rings digs into your skin as he guides your hips, the tent in his pants poking at your thigh with each movements.
Before either of you could fully register what was happening the sound of happy singing and cheers came close way too fast. Pulling away, you turn around catching the sight of familiar faces as you try to climb off of Nev's lap with haste. But it's too late, your skirt is all wrinkled, a plethora of bruises on your neck and chest along with your kiss swollen lips. Neville looks less disheveled than you, making you think they wouldn't comment on anything.
"Merlin, Neville! And I thought we were having fun at the game!" Seamus said, pointing at the large wet stain on the front of his tan pants. Ron, Dean, and Harry begin to laugh. The stain was a large portion of his upper right thigh, but also a bit near his crotch.
"That's like a bloody fountain, (L/n)!" Ron said, his eyes wide as his eyes flicker from you to the stain.
You audibly gasp as you see it, hiding your face in the side of his chest. It was all too embarrassing for you to handle. Did you really leave that big of a mess?
"Are you saying you've never made a girl that wet before without laying even a finger on her pussy?" Neville says, raising a brow. The laughter from the boys dies quickly as they draw their attention from the stain to their suddenly interesting shoes. "No? Or better yet, I've doubt any of you have even made a girl that wet in general." he scoffs, pulling you into his side as he stares up at them. "Amateurs."
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Pretending to not be good at herbology so you have an excuse to talk to Neville
And he helps you prepare for a really big exam
And when he's sees you aced it he's SO proud of you and insists he has to take you out to celebrate, which ends up being your first date
And you just don't have the heart to tell him that you really didn't need that much help
And after you've been married 20 years and have a couple kids you finally admit that you'd just wanted an excuse to get close to him
Which he thinks is the sweetest thing he's ever heard
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rabbit-reveries · 1 year
Text
— 𝑩eing Neville’s Mommy
Just a little something on loving our very shy, very clumsy, very adorable boy
Pairing: Neville Longbottom x Mommy!Reader
Warnings: Not smut, but there are mentions of sex
If you had to pick a sole reason why you'd fallen in love with Neville Longbottom, it'd be his adorable innocence - the way he blushes and looks away when given compliments, how his hand shakes when reaching to touch yours, and oh, how precious he is when holding back sounds. You can't help but want to protect him from all that is ill and bad in the world, so they can't ever tarnish the halo of light your lover has floating above his head. You can't help but want to save him from all, take care of him, and keep him as your perfect baby boy. Staring into Neville's blue eyes, are your urges so wrong? It's all for his own good, isn't it? You brush a lock of hair away from his sight and cup his cheeks.
"What is it? Do- do I have something in my face?" the boy asks, self-conscious under your gaze.
You smile sweetly and peck his lips. "It's nothing, baby. I was just admiring you."
"Oh."
He looks down at the floor, but one of his hands envelops yours, an action you take as a sign to go on. "Look at me," you say, the command so soft one might mistake it for a request. Obedient as always, your baby follows. "You don't even realize how perfect you are, do you?"
Neville leans into your touch, face red with the compliment and eyes watery with a sadness you took quite a while to understand. "That's... I'm hardly perfect... I'm not that tall, not that intelligent, or even fit. I don't even know why someone like you bothers with someone like me."
"Hey, don't ever say that again. I love you, truly. You're the loveliest angel in all Heaven and in all Earth." you stroke his cheek with the hand that isn't under his. "You've been through so much, baby... You deserve to have someone take care of you. I'm just doing my best to be that person."
"Is it selfish if I say I want you to take care of me?"
"No, not at all." you grin.
You lean in to capture his lips in a sweet kiss, and he reciprocates with neediness, something not foreign to you. Your hands are still where they've been this short amount of time, but his pull at your blouse, drawing you closer to him. You play along, and soon you're sitting on his lap, taking off your bra for him - Neville never quite learned how to unhook bras. He fumbles a bit while trying to unzip your skirt, in too much of a hurry to pay attention to what he's doing.
"What's gotten into you? Baby's that horny?" you question, laughing at the way he bites his lip as if he's doing some strenuous work.
He pulls back from the zipper like the fabric of your skirt has suddenly become poisonous. "Why? Do you... Do you think it's gross that... I kind of want... it...?"
"Absolutely not! I find it really enticing, actually. I just want to know why you're hasting today."
He bites his lip again. "I don't know, I just wanted to thank you for always taking care of me. I've never had someone... Do stuff for me, or to me, before. And you're always there, even when we're not in bed. I... I guess it kind of turns... me... on...? Knowing I can rely on you is really hot, for some weird reason."
You stare at him, not knowing what to say. He's just so cute you're at a loss for words. Oh God, that's it. You're keeping that boy in a jar so no one can mess with him ever again.
"Why- why aren't you saying anything? Oh, Merlin, did I gross you out? I did, didn't I?" he rushes, jumping to conclusions like he usually does, and tries to get you to leave his lap.
You hold his hands in place, right where they should always be, on the sides of your hips. "Neville, you couldn't gross me out if you tried. I was just in awe, thinking how deep in love with you I am."
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witchthewriter · 2 years
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𝐁𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐍𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞 𝐋𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐛𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐨𝐦 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞
⤷ female, ambiguous race, and any size reader. Requests are open, thank you for reading!  
ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ    
🌿ISFJ 🍁Gryffindor  📜Chaotic Good   🔮Leo Sun, Cancer Moon, Virgo Rising
SFW🌿
⭑ Neville might be a tad clueless at times, but he means well
⭑ He always boils the kettle so it’s on when you get home from work
⭑ Always a vase full of flowers and fridge full of groceries 
⭑ Your home is covered in plants; from the mundane basil plant, to a snapping flower that could take a finger off. 
⭑ You barely fight/argue. Because you both don’t like raised voices. So instead, you make sure to air your grievances healthily, rather than let them build up (like both of your guardians did).
⭑ When Neville was asked to be the Herbology Professor at Hogwarts, you were both overjoyed. 
⭑ It was a slightly difficult transition, but you settled in. 
⭑ Because you weren’t interested in teaching, you, also an old Hogwarts student, were asked to help in the hospital wing. 
⭑ Although she wouldn’t dare admit it, Madame Pomfrey was growing old. 
⭑ Neville and yourself moved into a room that you had never seen before. It was high in a tower, overlooking the grounds. Like some sort of apartment, or mini common room that led to a private chamber. 
⭑ It had enough room for all your plants, herbs, tinctures, and potions. A big four-poster bed sat in the middle of the bedroom, with an ensuite in the left-hand corner. 
⭑ It felt like a true home. Especially since it was at Hogwarts. 
⭑ Neville has a lot of sweaters and cardigans, which you often steal. 
⭑ Unfortunately, Trevor died a few years ago. So you scowered shops, markets and pet stores to find a toad. But because of the influx of students, most pets were gone. Except for a three-legged cat, who was missing an eye. No one seemed to want the sweet thing. 
⭑ So you surprised Neville with the old cat and he loved him.
⭑ Neville called him ‘Brixton,’ but the cat mainly goes by ‘Twinkle-toes’, ‘BeeBee’ and any variation of words that you feel at the moment. 
⭑ He curls around Neville’s legs and reaches up for a cuddle. (One time Brixton followed Neville to class and sat in on the lesson.) 
⭑ You both sit at the professor’s table in the Great Hall, but that’s mainly on special occasions or at the beginning and end of a school year
⭑ Normally there’s a mini-feast waiting for you in your chambers. 
⭑ When Neville is reading, you’ll walk up behind him and massage his shoulders 
⭑ Other times you’ll wrap your arms around him and pull him away 
⭑ He likes to hold you close; your body pressed to his chest. Heartbeats slowing as you fall asleep together 
⭑ There’s always a full, cold cup of tea on the kitchen bench because someone forgot about it
⭑ Neville smells like mint, lemongrass, and the smoke of a crackling fire. 
⭑ You live at Hogwarts when the school year ends, and help around the castle 
⭑ Neville always goes to the Quidditch matches, while you wait in the hospital dorm, fearing the worst. One time you had to treat a squashed nose and Neville nearly fainted. 
⭑ Neville can be very romantic, especially when the radio is on and you’re in the living room. He’ll pull you up for a dance 
⭑ You visit Harry, Ginny, Hermione, Ron, and Luna. Although they have busy lives, you’ve sworn to keep in contact 
⭑ Relationship Tropes: 
  ✧ Childhood Friends to Lovers
  ✧ Similar Personalities 
  ✧ You Confessed Your Love When Thinking He Was Unconscious 
NSFW🔞minors dni!
⭑ You would think that Neville is tender and sweet with you. But he ravishes you like it’s the last time he’ll ever touch you.
⭑ He’s passionate and endearing. Always keeping you on your toes.
⭑ Neville is dominant but not to the point where he calls you names. He prefers to physically feel in control. With his hand squeezing your neck while your tongues dance in each other’s mouths 
⭑ Neville likes when you call him sir, master, and professor. It feels so dirty, thinking about bending you over a desk and pulling up your skirt. 
⭑ He definitely has an enchanted picture of you naked, sucking on his cock
⭑ Neville loses himself when he’s thrusting inside of you. His face will press against yours as he pumps in and out, the movements setting you on fire in the best way
⭑ His favourite position varies - there isn’t just one. He likes to fuck you up against a wall, over a table, while he’s on top of you etc 
⭑ He becomes so gentle with you afterward. He whispers how well you did, how good you made him feel. 
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slaymybreathaway · 3 months
Text
WASTELAND BABY! (Chapter Three)
Chapter List Masterlist 📼
Word Count: 1k
Content: sexual innuendo, friendly banter, Neville being all cute and flustered
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September 5th ○ Gryffindor Dorms
-----------------------------------------
"Ron get up" Harry shook the sleeping figure of his best friend and watched as his one of his eyes opened, his long red hair still splayed across the pillow.
The rest of the boys were already up, having been woken by the bell rining in the corridoor fifteen minutes prior.
"Lemmesleeparry," Ron mumbled before turning onto his other side. Harry rolled his eyes, though he had grown used to this over years.
"Tell him that he'll miss breakfast," Dean laughed from where he was making his bed on the other side of the room. "That should get him up quick enough,"
"Or..." Seamus buttoned up his shirt before grabbing his pillow and holding it up, a michevious smirk on his face.
The other three boys realised what he was getting at and picked up their pillows, quietly walking over to Ron's bed. Seamus counted down from three on his fingers before they all jumped on the bed, bashing the sleeping boy with their pillows.
Ron covered his head with his hands, in a futile attempt to protect himself from the suprise attack. Feathers flew around the room as laughter erupted from the attackers, only stopping once Ron held up his hand in surrender. "Alright alright! I'm up, I'm up!"
Seamus, Dean, Harry and Neville retreased back to their own beds, still chuckling to themselves as a loud knock sounded on the door.
"Shay, you in there?" The sound of an Irish accent made Neville turn his head towards the door quicker than a racing broom.
"Yeah, come in Y/n" Seamus called out from where he was digging through his trunk.
The door opened and in walked y/n, carrying a small pile of clothes. She put them on Seamus' bed, not noticing Neville trying to fix his hair as much as he could.
It had been a few days since their dance on the top of the astronomy tower that had made his affections for her stronger than ever.
"Ma put these in with my stuff before we left. She leave anything with you?" She asked, peering over her brothers shoulder into his trunk. It was often that their mother got their clothes mixed up while doing the laundry.
"I don't understand why there's a charm on the stairs to the girl's dorms but not the boy's. What if we weren't decent or something?" Ron muttered grumpily as he sat on the edge of his bed, pulling on a pair of grey socks.
Y/n turned to face him. "Dumbledore trusts us more than you bunch of perverts I suppose," she let out a laugh, crossing her arms.  "Besides, if you weren't decent, Ron, I doubt there'd be much for me to look at anyways,"
A smirk climbed onto the girl's face as a chorus of "oooh" sounded across the room. A red blush started to connect the freckles on Ron's cheeks as he stuttered trying to defend himself.
Inbetween fits of laughter, Harry handed Ron the glass of water from his nightstand. "You'll need this, mate"
"For what?" He looked up at his friend in confusion.
"To cool down that burn!!" Dean called out, both of his hands cupped around his mouth to project his voice, the room erupted into laughter once more.
"Oh shut up," Ron rolled his eyes and walked straight to bathroom.
Laughter died down as everyone went back to what they were doing. Seamus pulled a couple of t-shirts out of his trunk and set them down on the bed. "Here, these are yours... and, em," he spoke embarrasedly "so is this,"
Y/n watched as Seamus picked a black bra out of his trunk like it was a contaminated object and flung it towards her. Her face immediatley went red with embarrasment as she tucked the bra away under her jumper in an attempt to hide it.
It was poinless though, because Dean let out a whistle from where he was sitting on the edge of the bed. "C'mon y/n/n, show and tell," he joked.
"Piss off Deano," she cracked into a laugh before picking up her other clothes from the bed and started to leave. "Hey Nev, I need to drop these back to my dorm. Will you save a seat in the Great Hall for me?"
Neville looked up from where he was studying his timetable for the year and gave y/n a smile. "Yeah of course,"
Seamus' eyes glanced between all of his friends' faces in suspicion. He waited till his sister had left the room and was out of earshot before turning back to his mates. "You guys better have had a good look because that's it," he spoke just as Ron walked back into the dorm, toothbrush in hand.
"That's what?" Harry asked, confused.
All of the boys turned their heads to Seamus for an answer.
Seamus crossed his arms before speaking "Y/n's off limits, starting now,"  he nodded decidedly.
Neville looked at Seamus with confusion. What did he mean off limits?
"What? That's crazy! we wouldn't go after your sister," Dean shot back, a look of shock on his face.
"Speak for yourself, Thomas." Ron scoffed, a smirk on his face. Seamus, who's face was turning quite red, was about to speak up before Harry interrupted him.
"Do you think if I asked her out she'd say yes. You know, because I'm The Chosen One and all," he grinned, sharing a look with Ron. Of course neither of them was serious, they were just trying to get on Seamus' nerves... and it was working.
Once Dean realised what they were doing, he chimed in too. "On second thought, she does give me the look sometimes"
Seamus almost had smoke almost blowing out of his ears at this stage, but before he exploded he turned to Neville. "I suppose you wanna get in on this aswell, Longbottom?" He asked.
A state of panic came over Neville and he could feel the colour drain from his face. "What? I don't wanna say anything!" He held his hands up.
Seamus' anger was halted as he flung one of his arms around Neville's shoulders. "See! Longbottom's the only one with the decency to not want to snog my sister!" He smiled, pointing at Neville between every word.
Nevilles face went from white as a ghost to red as a tomato in a matter of seconds and he felt his heart racing in his chest.
Only if he knew...
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siredtoyourlips · 4 months
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Sorry I've been gone for so long but I'm back! I have some thoughts about some of my all time favorite Harry Potter characters that I write smut about:) P.1
Neville Longbottom: There's a lot of people who claim that he's a virgin and he's never had a first kiss and this and that but I don't buy it. On screen it seemed like he had no friends but he's neville, just like Harry he survived. He may not have been popular but there were definitely a few people into him. But it came to sex at first he didn't know what to do but he knew he wanted to take control. He wanted to fuck you. It felt wrong to him but he needed it. You felt so good and warm and sweet and he was dying to do it again and again. He couldn't get enough of you. And not just the sex but the taking care of you afterwards and the kissing you and honestly making you feel good. He cares more about how you feel than how he does because when you feel good he feels good.
Fred Weasley: Now this man is a sex God. But he's also known as a player and that kept people from dating him. But he didn't care about anyone else just you. Every person that he'd fucked, it would be too that he'd think about when he'd cum. He definitely knew what he was doing, he was skilled and he knew that and not just in bed but with his words and looks. So when he finally got you to sleep with him he didn't let you go. All the stories about him being rough and not lasting long well it was completely different for you. He would be so slow and loving. He'd make you cum at least twice before himself. He loves to cum though, more than the average person especially in you. Let's just say it's a family trait.
Remus lupin: Now most people would have called him shy and quiet. But once you got to know him and told you everything. EVERYTHING. And you never looked at him differently. He definitely wasn't a virgin but he wasn't as skilled as some of his friends. But he sure did know how to make you cum. Over and over and over again. He loved to eat you out and make you scream. At times he wouldn't even care who heart. He would be so possessive of you. You're his perfect girl and he isn't going to let you go. When that time comes around, after you've had your period ( if you have it) and right before he turned he'd fuck you so many times, you'd be so sore but it's worth it. He needs to let a little anger out and you need to be fucked. He couldn't have sex with you for a full week now he's going to fuck you until you can't handle it anymore.
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v1olentdelights · 9 months
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Everything has changed.
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Do you name headcanons? Anyway, I am also going to be naming this one because I want to :) --requested--
Neville would never have imagined he would meet someone else who is like him. You were someone who appreciated the small things in life.
It started as a friendship, really. In your first year, you had been assigned as his table partner in charms class, the one he struggled in the most.
You excelled in it (he would find out later that you were actually quite average, but studied in the library so you could help him more). And things only grew from there.
When the second year rolled around, he was excited to see you again! You had kept in contact over the summer, constantly talking about mundane things. But he looked forward to every letter, as did you.
He was worried for you when the issue of the chamber of secrets circulated through the student population.
You both would spend some extra time together. Studying or lounging in the quart yard.
----
In his 3rd year, he struggled a lot. Things with his parents had taken a toll on him. He was beginning to realize that they wouldn’t be returning to a normal state.
He had asked you to meet him in the astronomy tower one night. It wasn’t something he had ever done before. Of course you had spent evenings together, he would sit next to you at dinner. And he would walk you to your common room, bidding you goodnight.
----
When you found him up there, his feet were dangling off the edge. It was then that you knew something was really wrong. Neville didn’t like standing on the edge of the balcony to use the telescope, and now he was hanging his feet off the edge?
“Nev, are you okay?” Your voice was soft and caring. It made him want to cry even more. When he looked back at you, he saw the concern written all over your face.
“I-“ his voice gave out, quickly wiping his tears and clear his throat he tried again. “I need to talk to you about something, please.”
“Of course! What can I do?” Making your way over to him, you grabbed his hand and pulled it in your lap.
“My parents. They have been in St. Mungo’s for the past 11 years. And they haven’t gotten any better.” He began to tremble at the thought of his parents.
“I don’t know what to say, Nev. I’m sorry, it is not enough, but that’s all I can think to say. I’m. here for you.” Gripping his hand a bit tighter, you pulled him into you. His head rested on your shoulder as he began to sob.
“I don’t know what to do without them. I thought they would get better. I thought I’d have parents again.” It was hard to catch most of what he was saying through his cries and hoarse voice.
“They will always be your parents. You have to know that. And they will always be there for you.” It was something you couldn’t stress enough.
It was then that Neville understood you were no ordinary friend. You were something special.
----
By the 4th year, things began to change. You wouldn’t meet his eyes as much anymore, He got panicky at the thought of being alone with you.
There had even been a few times where you caught yourself writing your first name next to his last. But you quickly throw the journal into the bottom drawer of the desk in your room.
Despite the anxious feeling you had at the thought of being around Neville, you often spent time with him by the lake. He had been trying to find some kind of water plant…
You were sure he had told you about it at some point, but you weren’t focused on the words he was saying.
At some point, Harry Potter decided to join you both. He said he wasn’t speaking to Hermione and wasn’t on good terms with Ron.
Of course, both you and Neville invited him to join you. But it actually made Neville feel something. A sick but upset feeling in his stomach.
You began to talk to Harry about quidditch and the tournament trials. You found yourself actually enjoying the conversation simply because the great and mighty chosen one was really just a simple 15 year old who had a somewhat normal life.
But that meant you weren’t talking to Neville about the book you were reading. And you weren’t telling him about how you wanted to travel the world, alongside Neville, before settling down.
Neville would never admit to it, but in this moment, he was jealous of Harry Potter. Not because he was the focus of everyone, not because he was the hero, and especially not because he had defeated Voldemort, (well half of him?) at the age of 11. No, he was jealous of Harry Potter because he had your attention.
Soon, dance lessons began. Most people thought it was hilarious and made a joke of it. But not you, in fact you enjoyed it. Thankfully, you were partnered up with a girl friend, there was no awkwardness of a boy. Yet.
Neville had practiced and practiced. He even devoted extra time he would have spent helping some of the first years with homework to practicing a waltz he knew you were particularly fond of.
----
However, something happened. Well, he only witnessed the first half of it, but he could feel that sickening feeling of jealousy burn again…
Harry Potter had sent a paper butterfly fluttering towards you. Inside was the question Nev had dreaded.
Would you do me the great honor of going to the Yule Ball with me? Meet me out in the viaduct courtyard after class.
You blushed at the thought that someone had asked you to the ball. But your thoughts were interrupted by Neville quickly excusing himself and rushing out of the hall.
Thankfully, the study period and the school day ended soon after. You found Harry waiting for you by the stairs.
“So, what do you think?” He was smiling brightly and holding a hand out for you as you took a rather large step down onto the bridge to the courtyard.
“Harry, I am honored that you asked me, trust me. Getting asked to the ball is something I never thought would happen.” As you turned to him you could see a small smile.
“But…” With a light chuckle, you nudged him in the shoulder.
“But I am actually hoping someone else will ask me. Don’t take it the wrong way, I just… I really like this boy, and I think he likes me as well, and I really really want to go with him.” Your face felt warm again at the thought of going to the ball with Neville.
“Well why don’t you ask this mysterious person?” He nudged you back. “Actually part of the reason I asked you is to possibly push either of you to ask the other out. Come on. It is obvious that you love each other.” Your jaw dropped.
“You asked me, knowing I would say no? Did you just use my rejection against me?!” You found it hilarious, but also there was a small, very small part of you that was hurt that he would do such a thing.
“Yes, I mean if you had accepted it, I would totally have taken you to the ball. But I knew you would say no.” Both of you stopped outside the entrance to the central hall. He now looked at you straight on with a serious-ish face. “Now go get your lover boy.”
Later that evening, you found him sitting in the herbology wing. He sat by the pond watching the fish swim around. They had no problems, no worries about asking someone to the ball, and Neville envied that.
“Neville?” You had finally found him. You had also cursed the founders for making the school so big that you scoured the entire school for him. “Nev, can we talk?”
He simply gestured for you to sit next to him on the bench.
“Did you leave because of Harry?” The huff he let out was an answer of its own.
“Maybe. Why does it matter? Did you just come here to gossip about it?” He almost sounded mad.
“No.” It came out defensively. “Why would I do that? I came to let you know that I turned down his offer.”
“Why would you do that? He is the perfect stand-up boy.” Why was he acting like this? Your sweet Neville.
“Because I want you to ask me. I’ve been waiting, I thought you felt the same way. I must have read the signs wrong.” You got up and began to walk away, but he grabbed your wrist to stop you.
“You didn’t. You didn’t read the signs wrong. I just didn’t know if you wanted to go with me. I had this whole plan for this evening, and then he asked you, and I thought you would just go with him.” He slipped his hand into yours, slotting your fingers together.
----
That is what led you to this moment. All the dancing at the ball, it made you feel like royalty, like you were the most beautiful person in the room. After quite some time of jumping around and dancing, you and Neville escaped to a balcony.
He spun you once on your way out. You let out a little laugh, a sound he wished he could bottle up and listen to over and over again.
Then it all came crashing in. Everything had changed. You were more than friends, something you couldn’t quite place yet.
It could only be described as a moment from a muggle movie. He brought his hand up to your cheek, his thumb ever so gently brushing against your face. As he looked all over your face, they finally landed on your eyes.
“All I know since yesterday is everything has changed” a moment of silence before he was leaning in.
And you realized that you were completely okay with this new change.
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vilentia · 7 months
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Love's Bloom
Neville Longbottom x reader
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Summary: In the Hogwarts greenhouse, a heartfelt connection blossomed.
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Neville stood amidst the vibrant flora of the Hogwarts greenhouse, his hands carefully tending to a delicate Mandrake leaf. He was always at peace here, surrounded by the beauty and serenity of the magical plants he loved so dearly. But today, his heart fluttered with a different kind of magic.
As he lost himself in the rhythmic dance of leaves and petals, the soft footsteps of someone approaching caught his attention. He turned, his eyes meeting yours, and a warm smile blossomed across his face. There you were, the person who made his heart race faster than a Golden Snitch.
"Hey, Neville," you greeted him, your voice as sweet as a melody. The gentle hum of the Hogwarts castle in the background seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you in your own little world.
"Hello," he replied, his cheeks tinted with a soft blush that matched the vibrant hues of the flowers around you. "I didn't expect to see you here today."
You stepped closer, the delicate scent of blooming petals filling the air. "I wanted to find you," you admitted, your eyes locking onto his. "There's something I've been meaning to say."
Neville's heart skipped a beat, and he gently set aside the Mandrake leaf he'd been tending to. "What is it?" he asked, his voice laced with anticipation.
Your fingers reached out, lightly brushing against his as you closed the distance between you. "Neville, you're perfect to me," you whispered, your eyes shimmering with sincerity. "Everything about you, your kindness, your strength, your passion for magical plants—it all makes you perfect in my eyes."
Neville's heart swelled with emotion, and he took your hand in his, his touch as tender as the caress of a petal. "And you," he began, his gaze unwavering, "you're the magic in my world, the melody in my heart. You're perfect to me too."
In that moment, surrounded by the enchanting beauty of the greenhouse, you and Neville shared a love that was as timeless and enduring as the most resilient of magical plants. It was a love that, much like the song of a heart, would forever echo its sweet, perfect tune.
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