#Harry Potter Oneshots

[pottergff]

lazy or lacy.

hjp x reader ! after war.

summary: harry and you are dating since hogwarts, and now you both live together. after a week full of work, without much time for each other, you two have a quiet saturday. but at night, you surprised him with lingerie.

warnings: smut / dirty talk? / unprotected sex / tits play.

a/u: sooo im trying to write smut, i just hope thia is okay and not cringe xoxo.

Today, it was a lazy Saturday. Harry and you, just enjoying each other's company and relaxing, after a hard week. It was now 9pm and it was time to go to bed. We both were already eaten and were ready to go to sleep. Harry was already in his pajamas, lying on the bed while changing the channels on the TV, looking for something to watch, and he called you.

"Babe! What's taking you so long in the bathroom?!" He asked with a amused chuckle. But before you could answer, you came out of the bathroom, wearing a set of lingerie that he had bought you a while ago and had not been able to wear for the first time. "Hey".

He was spechless for a second, his eyes widened for a second and his lips sightly parted. He was almost drooling. "My fucking god, you look stunning. Do a spin for me please, I wanna see how beautiful you look" Harry says while he sat on his bed with you slowly turning in front of him. His now hard dick pressing against his pants, pre-cum already making his boxers dirty.

"You like it? It's for you." You said with a little smild, looking at his face as if you were the most innocent girl in the world. But you can't help feel a bit flustered at the sight of your boyfriend turning on because of you, he always He managed to make you feel a little nervous.

"Like it? I love it". He reached out his hand, grabbing you by your wrist and pulling you closer to the edge of the bed, bringing you to stand between his legs. "Come here, beauty". He placed his hands on your hips and looked you up and down, his eyes roaming over your body.

You loked at him with a sightly smirk, and sitted in his lap. You could practically feel and see the hardeness in his pants, and cant help but looking back at his face with eyebrows raised.

He planted a soft kiss on your shoulder, before moving up to your neck, his kisses growing more urgent little by little. "Getting horny alredy, uhm?". You teased with a soft chuckle, your fingers finding his hair. "You're the one sitting on my lap, half naked. Can you blame me?" He mumbled, his hot breath hitting your skin while is head still buried in your neck.

At that you smiled, and pulled his hair to bring his head back again and remove his shirt. Pulling that aside, you looked and touched his now bare stomach and chest. You hands around his neck to bring him closer to you. "Now we are the both half-naked. No excuses, babe". You mumbled teasingly against his lips. "You're right, I don't have any excuses anymore" he smirked against your lips before his lips found yours in a passionatly way, his hands gripping now your butt.

His thumbs hooking under the straps of your lingerie, pulling them down and showing your bare chest. He broke the kiss with a little groan, after our tongues playing in each other's mouths, before leaning down and planting a soft kiss on your collarbone. His lips lingering on your skin until his mouth found your breast, your body arching against him as you started to left soft noises.

He continues to plant kisses on your breasts, moving from one to the other, his tongue swirling around your nipples, as his hands continue to roam over your body. "Uhmpf, that's good" You mumbled a bit breathy and tangled your fingers harder in his hair, started to grind slowly in him. Little whimpers slipped from your lips at the feeling of his mouth around your nipples and his hardness pressed under your wet pussy. He groaned against his skin as a response of hour movements. "Fuck"

You keep grinding him harder, falling your head sightly back and closing your eyes. You let out another soft moan as he keeps licking your tits while your clit rubbed his dress dick. "Umhfp, Harry." He moans in response to your moan, his breath coming out in short puffs. "Your making a fucking mess on me." Harry could feel your wetness dirtying his boxers, and just the feeling of it made him want to feel your walls around him even more. "Damn, yeah." You whimpered, looking at him again, biting your lower lip. He helps you and guided your movements. "Just like that, you're doing so good" he mumbled before tugging your nipples with his theet, making you more desperate. Your throbbing pussy needing relief, and urgently.

You whimpered again, gripping his hair harder. "Please. I need you inside. Please, Harry." You mumbled, breath in shorts gasps, suddenly feeling really needy. Your left hand traveled down to his pajama pant, he groaned at that. "Yeah? You want me inside, babe?" He whispered, his voice thick. He was really turned on to say no at your nod.

He lifted his hips slightly as you put down his pants and boxers, helping him slide them down his legs. He grabbed your hips again, pulling you closer. He pulled down your lencery panties, before placing you back on his lap, causing a groan of him.

He lined himself up at your wet entrance, letting you adjust to his size and causing a moan from both of you. "You're so good." Harry's gaze dropped only to watch as his cock disappeared inside your entrance, causing another groan from him, before he began to move. His hands moving back to your hips as he began gently guiding you up and down. He watched as you closed your eyes and leaned your head back in pleasure, moaning at the feeling.

"That's right. Ride me, just like that". He mumbled between groans, his hands firm on your hips, so hard that he can make bruises there. Your hands grip his shoulders tightly as I began to ride him, moving my hips with his help. "Shit, babe." You whimpered, finally feeling all his dick inside you. He moaned too, his head dropping briefly in the headboard as he start losing himself in the feeling of you around him. "You are so tight". He looked back to you, his pretty eyes now almost black with need.

He started sucking on your tits again, which were now in his face, causing an even louder moan to come out of your lips. Your hands found his hair again and you pulled on it, trying to hold back. "H-harry, you feel, mhfp, god". His mind going blank at your noises, like a melody for his ears.

"I'm close- Fuck." His voice and moans drowned in your tits, making you even more wetter around him. In response, your eyes rolled back. At that, he tightened his grip on your hips, pulling you down on him even harder, his hips thrusting up.

"Fuckfuckfuck". You whimpered when he hitted a sweet spot. "I-im close, Harry". You breathed out. "Come for me, do it". He practically comanding, hitting that spot again. You didn't need more to come around him, letting out a soft moan at the release, burying your face in his neck and breathing quickly with eyes closed. He squeezed your butt as as signal, and you cant help but let out another whimper when his warm filled you. He cursed under his breath.

Both sat there for a moment, trying to catch out breath, both hearts racing and ours bodies trembling. He held you close, his arms wrapped tiggtly around you.

"Damn you". You mumbled against him neck with a little exhausted smile, coming back from the high. He chuckled at your comment. "Yeah, I could say the same to you". He leaned his head down and planted a soft kiss on your shoulder, his fingers tracing lazy circles on your bare back, sooting you.

I leaned back to look at him, with a weak smile, and chuckled softly. A soft smile on his lips as he met your eyes. "That was good". he said, his voice quiet and hoarse

He gently pushed a strand of hair away from your face. "Just good?". I teased, still smilling, and leaned to kiss him. I smilmed against his lips while played with his hair. He chuckled softly into the kiss. "Shut up, you know I didn't mean it like that". He kissed you back softly, his hands caressing your sides. "Alright, just joking". I mumbled with a soft giggle, between lazy kisses.

[fear-less]

₊˚⊹˚ 𐙚 what letter? sirius, what letter? 

pairing: james potter x f!reader

series summary ➥ In which, james has had longing feelings for you—christmas holidays are nearing and james confesses his love towards you in the letter, expect you never read the letter, didn’t know it existed.

Warnings: angst, fluff, james pov, this inspired by awae (aka the best show ever), James is complicated...ofc, nothing else

#1 she ignored my letter!

➥ In which, James writes you a love letter and hides it into your luggage carrying your clothes, not knowing he put it in a pocket you never open.

#2 she can date whoever she wants to, i don't care.

➥ In which, James and you still aren't on talking terms, he avoids you, never gets too close to you, yet complains to everyone when he sees you get close to your new charms partner.

#3 this is awkward..

➥ In which, you were fed up with James, deciding to put aside your pettiness you drag him away from the gryffindor party to talk to him.

#4 what letter? sirius, what letter?

➥ In which, you never planned on talking to james ever again, not after your last encounter with him. Luckily Sirius saves the day.

-- lmk if u wanna be tagged for any of these!!

[yasministration]

the glass room - harry potter

concussions and interruptions au, but technically pt 2 of 'the giant squid' summary: you bring harry and his friends to meet your friend group in the glass room, hidden in the depths of the slytherin common room. wc: 1.9k+

The hallways are empty, Harry’s hand clasped tightly against yours as you guide him through a dark passageway. His friends follow closely behind, loud as they trip over each other. Lavender and Hermione judge their boyfriends, who are shoving each other in the slivers of light coming from their lit wands.

Ron bumps straight into Neville’s back, discovering that everyone has stopped moving. You lean down next to the statue of a snake and whisper the password, and the brick wall of the secret passageway dissolves into nothing as it reveals the slytherin common room's glass room. You let Harry and his friends pass through before following them, grinning widely when you spot your own friends, whom already made themselves comfortable in the room.

The gryffindors make awed sounds as they enter the room. They quickly understand what you meant by ‘glass room’. There are bookshelves lining the walls of the room, but the last wall is made of glass, and you can see the wonders of the black lake through it. All kinds of fish swim by, tall seaweed grass flowing with the motion of the tide.

“Oh good.” Draco calls, “Thought you’d have gotten caught. We all know the gryffindors aren’t slick at night.” You huff, walking into the room, past the couches to glance up the mock aquarium. “Do you think she’ll come by?” You ask.

“Oh please. She can practically smell you.” Says Blaise as he twists off the cap of a bottle of butterbeer. “Of course she’ll come.” You spin around, tilting your head to the side at the sight of Harry and his friends awkwardly stood near the now hidden passageway entrance. “Make yourselves comfortable.” “If you can.” Pansy finishes for you, and you laugh, gladly taking the bottle she offers you.

“Y/n told us she wants you guys to get the full glass room experience. And that starts with drinks.” Theo has a signature wicked smile on his lips as he gestures towards the drinks on the coffee table. He jumps over the arms of the couch, halfway landing on Draco, who harshly shoves him aside.

A hand touches your waist, and you turn your head to glance at Harry, who shyly smiles at you. He wants your friends to like him so bad, it’s adorable. You lean in closer, pressing a soft kiss to his lips before dragging him over to an armchair. You push him down and settle yourself across his lap.

“Pass me another butterbeer, would you Theo?” You don’t blink when Theo tosses the glass bottle across the room, sticking out a hand and leaning over the side of the armchair to catch it. “Look at you. Should’ve tried out for chaser.” Harry mumbles quietly, and Draco scoffs from across the room. “Potter, have you ever seen your girlfriend on a broom?” Harry furrows his eyebrows as laughter filters out from your friends, and you mumble “Yeah, we don’t really talk about that.”

You glance over to where Dean and Seamus stand by the window, and Dean makes a sudden noise, jumping at Seamus, who shrieks loudly and flinches away. Dean laughs loudly, grabbing a drink and slumping on the couch next to Neville. “My boyfriend, everybody.” Mumbles Lavender, and Seamus makes an offended noise, replying with “Get your own drink then” as he steps away from the drinks table.

But he grabs her one anyway, and she kisses him to thank him.

“I can’t imagine a friend group with half the people dating each other. I already have enough of Blaise and Theo, and they’re not even together.” Pansy’s comments is met with laughs from Harry’s friend, but she’s being completely serious. “Yeah, especially you, Brown.” Adds Blaise “Don’t know how you do it with Finnegan. One time I watched him burn his eyebrows off in potions,” He’s cut off by a mumble from Neville “Who hasn’t?” But Blaise continues anyway “And when he tried to regrow them with a spell, he gave himself a moustache.”

Lavender’s head snaps towards her boyfriend, who flushes a deep shade of red. “At least you haven’t seen him with hair down to his ass.” Counters Ron, which has Lavender gasping loudly. “How have I not heard of any of this!?”

“Don’t know,” Shrugs Dean. “He was fooled by the twins.” Neville chuckles as he recalls the memory. “Don’t laugh, Longbottom!” Cries Seamus, “That candy was meant for you, but you were too much of a pussy to eat it!”

“Yeah, and for good reason.” Says Neville, tossing the cap of his butterbeer at the Irish boy, who swats it away before it hits his face.

“You know, Granger, Pansy used to have a massive crush on you.” Both Hermione and Ron straighten up with surprise, Ron’s arm tightening around his girlfriend’s shoulders. It’s as though he knew Pansy had gone undefeated with getting who she wanted.

“You’re a fucking liar is what you are, Nott.”

“Mhm.” Pansy’s head snaps towards you at your hum, her eyes shining with pure challenge. “Oh you’re one to talk.” You gulp thickly, pointing at Theo “He’s the one who started it! I didn’t say anything!” But Pansy is already on the move, making direct eye contact with your boyfriend. “Potter, in third year she called you leng, and didn’t shut up about you for a week after watching a quidditch game you played in. It was her first ever game, and we were there to support Draco and Theo, but her eyes stayed on you the entire time.”

Your jaw drops low, but it seems like you aren’t the only one offended by Pansy’s words. Draco gasps loudly “You said you’d never imagined someone could make quidditch look as elegant as I made it!”

“Oh shut up, Draco. You barely won the game!”

“I’m not done.”

“Pansy.”

“And after you had your first kiss, she talked about how soft your lips were for an entire night. She failed her charms essay because she was too busy talking about you and accidentally wrote your name in the middle of a sentence.”

“You’re such a cunt, Pansy!”

“They’re going at it again, mum.” Theo calls out, breaking the pause of silence in the room.

You sharply stand, keeping your eyes on Pansy as you say “Neville, the only reason Pansy agreed to this was so she could watch, and I quote ‘his pretty face when he smiles’.” Pansy screeches loudly, and you grin at your best friend. “I can get started too, if you'd like.”

“Wait, can we go back to what Pansy said for a second?” Harry asks, and you can hear the grin in his voice. You turn your head towards him, staring at him blankly.

“Jesus, Potter.” Scoffs Pansy with a disgusted tone.

“No one likes an egomaniac, Potter.” Informs Blaise as he sips at his drink.

“Yeah, pipe down.” Groans Theo, glancing at Draco, who rolls his eyes and says “So much for humility.”

Harry throws his hands up, a confused expression on his face “What-you!” His friends find the comments hilarious though, and Ron, Seamus and Dean all join in with the teasing, much more exaggerated than your own friends had delivered their own lines.

“What an arrogant jerk.”

“Humiliating your own girlfriend. That’s grand.”

“Y/n, leave him.”

Neville is still too busy flushing at the comment you had made to join in on his friends' mocking.

Harry huffs, shoulders deflating, and you giggle at the way his cheeks turn pink. You return to your seat on his lap, cupping his cheek and leaning in to press a long kiss to his lips. He sighs in satisfaction, a hand moving from your hip to rest on your lower back.

“I love you.” You mumble, lips grazing against his, just enough space between you to speak. “I love you too. Not sure about your friends though.”

“We heard that, you smug bastard.”

“Sorry, I’m used to you guys ignoring my existence.” Theo chuckles at your boyfriend’s sarcastic comment, mumbling “Yeah, you are.”

You giggle, digging your face into the crook of Harry’s neck, your hands sliding down from over his shoulders to rest on his waist. You press your lips against his neck, and Harry smiles, hugging you closer to him. “Not even a butterbeer in, and she’s all over him.” Jokes Blaise, a teasing smirk on his face. Blatantly ignoring his words, you continue pressing kisses to Harry’s neck. “Please, this isn’t the effect of butterbeer.” Harry argues, and you breathe out a laugh, your breath tickling his neck.

“You guys are right. He’s not usually this egotistic around us.” Hermione comments with a mother’s scold. “He’s trying to keep up with the big boys, Hermione, don’t embarrass him.” Lavender replies from across the room.

“The big boys, huh?” Draco echoes, grinning widely. “Don’t pretend you don’t know you scare the entire school.” Ron says with a scoff.

“Neville, how are you?” Randomly cuts in Theo, spreading his legs on the couch. Draco slaps his leg away, a scowl on his face. Then, he lifts his face up, asking “Yeah, how are you Neville? Quite the silent one, you are.”

“Be respectful.” Scolds Blaise quietly.

“Jesus fuck.” Gasps Dean suddenly, breaking everyone away from the busy conversation. “What the hell is that?”

“Oh, Berta’s here!” Points out Pansy, turning to face the window. You groan, shoulders slumping. “Oh that’s insane, I see why it scares you, y/n.” Harry’s hands tighten around you at Ron’s comment, and he glances towards the window, his mouth gaping open. “That’s- wow.”

Hermione stands, walking towards the window, and her friends all immediately follow. At least, all of them did but Harry. “You’re not going to go say hi to your best friend?” Pansy asks teasingly, and you stand too, sighing deeply. “I really don’t like Berta.” You mumble quietly to Harry, who instantly wraps an arm over your shoulders, dipping down to kiss your forehead. Harry walks with you towards the window, where Berta, the giant squid is dragging her enormous tentacles across the glass.

You shiver, shaking your head and digging your face into Harry’s chest as he and his friends stare in awe. “That was what, fifteen, twenty minutes?” Theo’s voice calls out. “Not Berta’s fastest time, I’ve got to say.”

“Yeah, that it absolutely terrifying.” Mumbles Lavender, walking back to the couches, Seamus following right behind her. “She’s the reason we don’t go swimming in the lake. Just the small pools.” Says Draco casually, the weird tension between both friend groups dissipating. “Yeah, besides it's much calmer there.” Blaise adds, shrugging.

“We’ve got a lake right in front of our house.” Says Harry, guiding you back to the armchair. “We should all get together there during the summer.” He suggests and you turn to look at him with a pleasantly surprised smile. “You like my friends that much?” “Shut up.” You giggle, kissing him softly. He smiles, pulling you back on his lap.

“Right, I guess Pansy wasn’t wrong,” Starts Draco with a roll of his eyes. “Yeah, I guess not…” Echoes Theo, both of their eyes trained on Harry’s figure. He shifts uncomfortably underneath you, and you smile, understanding what they are getting at. “What they mean, Harry,” Begins Blaise, clearing his throat. Harry raises his eyebrows at the sound of his first name coming from Blaise’s mouth. “You’re not too bad. And y/n definitely could have ended up with someone worse.”

“Yeah,” Theo scoffs “Knowing her type.”

Theo gets a pillow in the face for that comment.

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[mentally-in-northern-italy]

a lover’s ruse — c.d. [1]

Summary: Your agonizing courtship and Cedric’s need to spite his ex are both ailments that have a very simple cure: a fake relationship, obviously.

⤷ [1] - in which prefect patrols end with a haphazard agreement being reached.

Requested: read the request here

Pairing: Cedric Diggory x fem!gryffindor!reader

Word Count: 3.9K

A/N: I'm so sorry guys. This has been such a long time coming, I'm not sure people are even waiting for this anymore. But this is the first part and I'm thinking of turning it into a full-fledged series. Second part of the fic WILL be out as soon as I'm done exams.

—

The first few dates were bearable enough  — if you squinted hard and counted the silence as a virtue. 

The next few were nothing short of painstakingly harrowing. And that’s being kind.

This one, however? It made you seriously contemplate lunging over the walls of the Astronomy Tower and meeting Death, himself, halfway. Little else could offer greater reprieve, in your mind, from this. 

The setting should’ve been romantic, in theory. The night was still, but not stiflingly so, and the moonlight danced around the top of the Tower teasingly, doing little to illuminate the dark. If he stepped into a crevice where the light didn’t reach his face and you tuned him out just enough, you might even call the view beautiful. But, you soon found out – only a few dates in – no view could be described as such when you have Trevor Selwyn standing next to you.

Trevor Selwyn should’ve been a perfect match, in theory. An avid member of the Sacred Twenty-Eight –  there was little else that could prove more pertinent to families, like yours, with snobby ideals of purity and the measures necessary to maintain it, generation after generation – a Slytherin, an athlete (he doesn’t like mentioning that he’s a substitute player, on his best days), and a prefect. And, as you soon found out – only one date in – he’s also an utter and complete idiot.

So, you should’ve said no, in theory. Kicked and flailed your arms like a petulant child, screamed and wailed and protested when your parents proposed a courtship between the two of you. You should’ve told Trevor himself that he possessed the tact of a Cornish Pixie and the wit of the dimmest of trolls. But, as you soon found out (after the wailing episode) – absolutely zero dates in – Trevor is nothing but persistent and your parents anything but unwavering in their resolve. 

“I’ve met the Minister once,” he remarks out of nowhere as he looks off, off of the edge of the tower with all the regality of an acclaimed emperor. 

You hum in response. You haven’t said a word all night and he hasn’t noticed a thing.

“Granted, I was only two but I recall the Minister telling my father –”

“I think I should head back, actually,” you interrupt before the anecdote can truly begin. There are a few things you’ve learned about Trevor so far but none of them are as glaringly consequential as this: if he starts talking about his father, he won’t be able to stop. Escapades from Uagadou, his adventures in Egypt warding off curses and serpents and the magical scrolls of Machu Picchu –

“Oh,” he furrows his brow as if deep in thought and you almost laugh. That boy has never had a thought in his life. 

“I don’t want to be late for prefect patrols is all,” a faux sweet lilt to your voice doesn’t do much to subdue the frown on his face. 

He nods curtly. “I’ll walk you back.”

Your refusal is automatic. “I think I’ll mana–”

“It’s no problem,” he starts walking towards the stairs and you’re left with no choice but to follow.

On any other occasion, the walk would’ve taken mere minutes. The hallways would’ve been something theatrical, a soft fusion of candlelight and the streaming moonlight at this time of night. With Selwyn by your side, however, the minutes seemed like hours, and the candlelit corridors, usually golden and warm, felt like the dull glow of a waiting room. Your shoulders ached from how stiffly you held herself as each step echoed louder than the last, as if the castle itself was sighing in disappointment and disdain.

“I had an enjoyable time tonight,” Trevor started when you finally reached and you tried your utter best to hide the discomfort when his clammy hand reached for yours. He brought it to his lips and pressed a single kiss on it before you gave him a tight-lipped smile. You expect him to then turn and go, to walk back down to his own common room but he stays standing there, his face blank. 

“Me too,” you smile, in hopes that this was the confirmation he was after. Another lesson you’ve learned about the boy has been this: nothing else pleases him as much as validation does. 

He gives some semblance of a smile back. You blink. The next thing you know he has started to lean in and his eyes are fluttering shut and his slightly puckered lips are mere inches from yours now and the ridiculousness of it all proves too much to bear – you guffaw in the most obnoxious way possible. A mixture of anger and hurt crosses his face before he retreats and you’re unsure of how to recover.

“I’m so sorry,” you cover your mouth and try to stop the laughter. “I– I just thought of a funny joke. I’m so–”

“Fix your hair, would you? It looked atrocious today,” he quips quickly to gain control of the situation back. The last thing you’ve learned about the enigma that Selwyn is is this: his superiority cannot be challenged. If it is, he will try to establish it again – by insulting you in the most seemingly hurtful manner. 

It doesn’t quite have the desired effect. You snort at his attempt and suddenly the laughter has returned. He exhales once out of his nose as he turns to go but not before calling out, “I will pick you up at the same time tomorrow night. Don’t be late.” 

The laughter dwindles at the thought of enduring this again. “I’m busy tomorrow!” 

“Don’t be late,” he calls again. 

“Charming,” you hear someone call from behind you and you can tell who it is without having to turn and look at his annoyingly perfect face. His clever quips usually carry the extraordinary ability to irk you to no end but after the night you’ve had, they seem especially akin to knives on a chalkboard. 

You can picture Cedric Diggory’s earnest yet irritating smile he seems to wear at all times, the kind that makes his honey-coloured eyes crinkle in the slightest way at the edges with no difficulty. You can picture his perfectly ironed robes, clad with pins and awards he has won over the years and his hair that falls in place like dominoes. There’s only ever one way to describe him: pristine. Always. 

Though you’d never cared much to exalt him to the status of an academic rival, it’d be foolish to call him anything else. He had a way about him that reeked of complete and utter competence at everything, which indubitably invited a certain degree of resentment from everyone. You were no exception.

And not only did the universe seem keen on making an already-horrible night worse by scheduling him as your prefect patrols partner tonight, it also seemed quite keen on wanting to humiliate you in front of him. 

“The gossip that you are, Diggory,” you huff with biting sarcasm as you finally turn to face him. “Using your patrols as a way to spy on unsuspecting young lovers. Classy.” The break of his grin is almost blinding and you have to avert your gaze to avoid damage to your visual field.

“Nothing else entertains me these days as much as your courtship, I’m afraid,” he jests, slipping an easy hand into his pocket. “If you need more time together, I understand. I’m perfectly capable of completing the patrols on my own tonight.”

With your face aflame, you shoot him a look and begrudgingly start walking beside him, arms crossed tightly over your chest like a shield and footsteps hitting stone a bit too sharply. 

“How kind of you.” You say curtly and make it a point to walk a few steps ahead of him. He doesn’t seem particularly perturbed by it: he follows a few steps behind you, but the smugness radiating off of him envelops you nonetheless. 

“You can laugh, you know,” you say again after a moment of silence. You have long-since learned that the best way to avoid embarrassment is to submit to it. You’ve been courting Selwyn long enough to know it – sheepish smiles exchanged with classmates when he pecks you on the cheek in the hallways, mortified but apologetic grimaces whenever he tries to clasp your hand in his as he walks you to your common room after supper. Judgment – if it must be served – is best served plainly. Overtly. 

He shakes his head in amusement as he finally catches up and walks in step with you. “Now, why would I laugh? That was the most romantic thing I’ve ever seen.” 

“That was humiliating,” you mutter under your breath before you can stop yourself. 

Cedric’s amused smile wavers as he glances at you with something you hope isn’t sympathy. And as much as you hate to say it, it wouldn’t be something you would put above him – for all the determined rebuttals and rivalries in class, Cedric has only ever been infuriatingly kind. “I think Selwyn might be a tad bit more humiliated than you, [Y/L/N].”

“Good. If he ever tries to kiss me again, I might hex him into oblivion and end up as a headline in the Daily Prophet.” 

His amusement returns and you’re glad. You’re not sure how to interact with him beyond the usual teasing remarks. “Would it be in bad taste to say that I'd quite want to see that?” His smile only grows when you roll your eyes. “Will you be doing that tomorrow night then? Shall I call the reporters?” 

You make a face. “You won’t be grinning that wide when I send a dementor after you from Azkaban, Diggory.”

“Send one after Selwyn. He’s in need of a good kiss.”

Your lips twitch at the joke and Cedric notices the slight movement. You press them together before a full-fledged smile can appear on your face and Cedric revels in it. “You’re not funny.”

“Yes, I’m sure Selwyn’s funnier,” Cedric teases. 

“Still not funny.” You take a few quicker steps to walk in front of him again, having had enough of his teasing for the night. 

He catches up again and has no particular difficulties keeping up, no matter how much you try to hasten your steps. “Forgive me for prying –”

“I won’t.”

“But, why Selwyn?” The question’s sincerity catches you off-guard.

“What?”

“I just mean – I find it hard to believe that you’re… devoid of options. So…why him?” He picks his words carefully, as if he’s weighing them in his mouth before letting them fall out. And perhaps it was due to the late hour or the undeniable warmth that Cedric’s eyes perpetually hold, but you actually considered giving him a sincere answer. 

“He’s–” you pause as you vow to yourself this would be the last display of vulnerability Cedric would be getting from you tonight. Your voice drops despite yourself, and you find your fingers fiddling with the edge of your sleeve. Something about Cedric’s quiet attention makes the truth feel heavier than usual. “He’s my parents’ choice. They want me to graduate with a prospect secured.”

His eyebrows wrinkle in confusion. “If a courtship is what you’re after, I’m sure you’d find better prospects in – pardon my bluntness – anyone else.” His teasing cadence has dropped altogether now and you wrinkle your own eyebrows in confusion as you consider the notion that Cedric might actually be trying to help you. 

“It doesn’t matter who–” you pause again. “I don’t plan on marrying him, Cedric.”

Cedric frowns. 

You go on, “I’m only ‘courting’ him until graduation to subdue my parents. I won’t marry him so it doesn’t matter who it is.” You squirm in guilt as Cedric stays frowning. “And I realize it’s cruel to string him along – I do – I just – I don’t know what else to do.” 

Cedric nods after a while – a slow, courteous nod that indicates he understands but wholly disagrees with whatever you’re saying. It’s a nod you’ve seen from him when he proposes a rebuttal to whatever alternate answer you’ve proposed in class, an alternate solution to a problem and admittedly, a much more pragmatic one.  He opens his mouth to voice it before the sound of giggles fill the empty hallways from around the corner.

You both exchange a prefectly look with each other, acknowledging the obvious student out of bed, awaiting a scolding for being out past curfew. Before you two can approach to see who it is, they turn the corner themselves.

“Evelyn,” Cedric breathes out in surprise as your gaze lands on the familiar brunette-haired girl in your year, her hands firmly clasped in Damien Avery’s, matching love-sick grins plastered on both faces and lipstick stains on the latter’s neck. With their hair dishevelled and robes askew, they blink in stunned silence.

You purse your lips as you look between the two, realization cresting at once. Though Cedric’s dating life was never a particular topic of interest, you immediately recognized the girl as his girlfriend, Evelyn Waters. 

Well, ex-girlfriend as of two weeks ago. 

“Ced,” his name falls from her smudged, lipstick-stained mouth softly, her eyes widening slightly. She hastily straightens out her robe and runs a hand through her hair. “I–”

Cedric clears his throat awkwardly as he shoots Avery a lingering glare. “It’s an hour past curfew–” He manages to get out, his voice unbelievably even. He keeps his eyes on Avery, not sparing Evelyn another glance. 

“I’m a prefect, Diggory. I think we’re fine,” Avery dismisses, stepping around him. He tugs at Evelyn’s hand.

Cedric steps in front of him again, towering over the shorter boy with ease. “Forty points from Slytherin,” he says simply, his eyes uncharacteristically stoic.

Avery scoffs and looks at Cedric in disbelief. “Yeah?” He sneers. “Are you going to take another forty for theft?” 

Cedric exhales heavily through his nose at the implication. The night air has suddenly chilled and the tension is so thick, it makes it hard to breathe.

“You know… considering…everything.” Avery smirks, gesturing subtly to Evelyn’s hand he still has clasped within his own. Evelyn watches the exchange silently.

“Considering everything, Avery,” you finally find your voice in the uncomfortable silence and step forward. “I’ll be taking another hundred points away from Slytherin for your misuse of prefect privileges. Expect to hear from Professor Snape tomorrow when I formally file a complaint.”

Avery turns to you, his goblin-green eyes staring into yours for a minute before he narrows them. “This isn’t your fight, [Y/L/N]. Stay out of it.”

“I think you,” you jab a hard finger at his chest, pushing him away slightly, “should stay out of the hallways after curfew. Now, if you’ll excuse us.” You grab Cedric’s arm and tear him away from the pair. 

He doesn’t protest when you begin to lead him down a random set of stairs to get away from the scene of the stiff confrontation. Cedric walks a few steps behind you wordlessly as you chance periodic glances to make sure he’s still following. After a few moments, you slow your gait so he can catch up with you.

“Hey,” you jostle him out of his thoughts which seemed to have permanently etched a furrow in his brows as he shuffled his feet across the stone floor.

He sighs, running a quick hand over his face and then stuffing it back into his pocket. “You didn’t have to enjoy that quite so much.”

You frown. “Enjoy what?”

“Do you not normally enjoy my humiliation?” He asks with a teasing lilt in his voice, but the humour stops short of his eyes. You can tell his mind is still stuck elsewhere, replaying that scene over and over. 

“I’m not a sadist like you,” you quip. 

He offers you a quick smile as if to confirm receipt of your well-intentioned humour, but doesn’t say much else. You walk in uneasy silence once again. 

“She’s an idiot,” you say finally. “Just– for the record.”

“Hm.” He smiles wryly again but his eyes hold a heaviness that you don’t like. You can tell the breakup took a greater toll on him than he has let on the past few weeks. And you’re not exactly sure why that weighs down on your heart.

“Seriously, Diggory,” you sigh. “She’s an idiot for breaking up with you and she’s an idiot for getting with Avery.”

He exhales a quiet laugh. “Yeah.” 

The heaviness still hung in the air despite your attempts at trying to provide Cedric an outlet to let out his frustration. You scoff internally at his staunch unwillingness to talk ill of anyone – not even his ex-girlfriend who moved on from him in a blink of an eye. You think again of Cedric’s genuine interest in your ‘Selwynian’ plight. You sigh once before shaking your head. Were you really about to help Cedric Diggory?

“You know what? You need to stop that.”

“Stop what?”

“Acting like it doesn’t bother you,” you hit him lightly on the arm. “It bothers you, right?”

He holds your gaze for a moment before nodding. “Yeah. Suppose it does.” He admits quietly.

“Do you want her back?” 

He frowns at the question. “What–”

“Do you?”

“Yes,” he breathes out after a while and looks away, as if embarrassed at the confession. You can tell he’s fidgeting with his pockets nervously. 

“Then, make her jealous,” you say. “I saw how she was looking at you. She knows she made a mistake. But she won’t admit it because that’s not how it works. Make her jealous and she’ll have to admit it. It’ll get it out of her.”

He looks at you in amusement. “I can’t tell if you’re trying to help me or sabotage me.”

You scoff. “Accept the generosity before I change my mind.”

He shakes his head with a bitter smile, clicking his tongue against his teeth quietly. “That won’t work, anyway.”

“It will,” you assert. “Trust me, Diggory. It will.” 

He shakes his head again. “I don’t even know how to–”

“Date someone else,” you supply easily.

“I don’t like anyone else.”

You shoot him an unimpressed look. “No shit. We already established that you still like Evelyn.”

“So, I ask out a girl I’m not actually interested in?” He asks in disbelief, discomfort evident on his face. 

“Yeah,” you shrug. 

He frowns and pauses, glancing at you with confusion. “That’s cruel beyond belief, [Y/L/N].”

His admonition makes you pause, too. The familiarity of the proposal strikes you at once. It was exactly what you were doing – stringing along a clueless Selwyn until graduation and then breaking his heart without a second thought. The cruelty of it all had always been a nagging thought – but its noise had been distant and dull. It was now ringing in your ears however, your skewed perception of morality hitting you at once.

“It’s not– cruel.” You try to tell yourself, more than him. “It–”

“It’s heartless,” he says again, matter-of-factly. “This, and what you’re doing to Selwyn, by the way.” 

You sigh at his moral policing. You knew he was right, but Selwyn was a problem for another night. 

“Fine,” you relent. “How about a girl who agrees to be your fake girlfriend?” 

He scoffs lightly. “If that were so easy to find, wouldn’t you have gotten a fake boyfriend already?”

You both stop walking at the same time, your footsteps coming to a screeching halt simultaneously. It was almost as if Cedric’s words had materialized and turned into physical roadblocks. His gaze slowly turns to you, honey-brown eyes landing on yours, but you’re already watching him in stunned realization. 

“[Y/L/N] –” he begins thoughtfully.

“No. No. Absolutely not.” That look in his eyes — the one like he’s already decided. Like he’s already seen this through to the end. It makes you nervous in a way you can’t name. You start walking ahead of him rather quickly but he catches up to you with no difficulty once again. His long strides match your pace perfectly.

“This was your idea–” He tries to reason again, the sound of hurried footsteps echoing off the walls as he chases after you with a walking stride.

“My idea– was not for us to do that–” you huff out as you keep up the pace, unrelenting.

He finally catches up to you and reaches for your arm, his hand closing gently around your elbow. The warmth of his touch sends a jolt through you, halting your steps more effectively than his words ever could. “It makes sense.”

You blink, momentarily thrown. “No–” 

“You won’t have to be needlessly cruel just to keep a prospect around–”

“Cedric.”

“And I won’t have to heartlessly pretend to like a girl who doesn’t know I’m pretending,” his hands find your shoulders. “It makes sense. You know it does.”

“I won’t–”

“And no more nightly dates with Selwyn,” he interrupts. “No more dodging his kisses.” 

That finally shuts you up. You shake your head though you can’t find the words to protest anymore. Cedric decides to sweeten the deal further.

“No life sentence in Azkaban, either.”

“Shut up.”

His lips tug upwards slightly and your eyes can’t help but catch on the movement. You let your eyes roam over his face — annoyingly symmetrical, irritatingly warm — and suddenly it hits you how easy it would be to fall into this lie. How dangerously tempting it is to pretend.

“No one would even believe it,” you say weakly. “We hate each other.”

“You mean you hate me?” He smiles dryly. “Because I don’t recall ever hating you.”

You avert your eyes before you start tracing his smile lines again with your gaze. “I just mean– we’re always at each other’s throats.” 

“That makes it more believable, don’t you think?” 

You shake your head, closing your eyes. “It’s a bad idea–”

You don’t get to finish your sentence before a familiar owl flies overhead and perches itself on the ledge next to you, clutching a letter. It doesn’t take long for you to realize who it’s from – the intricate green envelope and Selwyn family crest catching your eye immediately.

Cedric raises an eyebrow as he holds back a smirk. You grumble under your breath before plucking the letter from the owl begrudgingly. 

“Aren’t you going to open it?” He questions as he stifles a smile.

“No,” you huff in annoyance. “He … sends these every night. A ‘goodnight poem’, he calls them.”

Cedric doesn’t say anything, his grin already revealing he knows what your next words will be. 

You glance at the letter again — Selwyn’s cursive looping like a snake about to bite. What were you even doing?

You sigh, knowing exactly what this meant. “Fine. Let’s do it.” You cast the ignition spell, watching the green wax seal curl into smoke. “Let’s date.”

He blinks. “Wait — really?”

 “Don’t make me change my mind.”

 His grin returns, slow and lopsided. “Pretend to date,” he corrects.

“What?”

“We’re pretending,” he says cheekily, your cheeks aflame at his teasing cadence. "Don’t fall in love with me, [Y/L/N].”  

With a determined roll of your eyes, you turn on your heel. “As if, Diggory.”

Second part coming soon!

[sumsumstrashbin]

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐝𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐦𝐦𝐚 ~ 𝐣𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐩𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 ✧

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 𝟏.𝟕𝐤

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐣𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐮𝐩, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐡𝐞'𝐬 𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐮𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐝𝐮𝐦𝐛. 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐰𝐨 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐮𝐩 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐬 𝐡𝐮𝐫𝐭 (𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐨𝐫), 𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐧𝐲 𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐧𝐲 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝

𝐚/𝐧: 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐥𝐢𝐩 𝐢𝐧 𝐚 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐡𝐨𝐠𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬 𝐥𝐞𝐠𝐚𝐜𝐲 𝐫𝐞𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐫𝐨𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐟. 𝐚𝐥𝐬𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐨 𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐮𝐥𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐝𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐜 𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐣𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐟𝐬 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬. 𝐧𝐨𝐧 𝐯𝐨𝐥𝐝𝐲 𝐚𝐮!

─────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───────

You and the Marauders had been friends since your sixth year at Hogwarts. Your friendship with them began in the library one day while you were studying for a test. They had decided that you would be the victim of their prank for the day, sneaking up on you and causing your books to levitate and fly right out of the library. 

Instead of letting them feel the pride of another successful trick, you decided to get them back. After spending the night brewing a very special potion, you carefully constructed a prank on them the next day. You promised Nearly Headless Nick that you would find him some rotten roast beef in exchange for his help. At breakfast, the ghost stole an item off of each of the Marauders, causing them to chase after him. As they ran out, you slipped a bit of potion into their drinks before returning to your seat casually. 

The four boys entered the Great Hall again, out of breath from their chase through the halls. They all collapsed into their seats, downing their drinks without a second thought. 

It only took a few moments for the potion to kick in, much to your delight. They were all chatting normally, when their voices started to transform. Within a matter of seconds, their voices were high-pitched and squeaky. Thanks to you, they spent the rest of the day with highly irritating voices that no one could bear to listen to.

They were completely shocked that anyone managed to prank them back, and they highly respected you for that. Although you found them annoying at first, they quickly became some of your closest friends.

Soon after becoming friends with them, you and James began facing constant pestering from the other three: they constantly spoke of how the two of you totally liked each other, and that you’d be a great couple. Of course, both of you denied it and continued to stay friends. 

After graduation, you made sure to stay in touch with them. You would often see them multiple times a week, visiting them in their shared home or hosting them at your own. You and James had managed to deny your feelings for each other throughout seventh year and up until now. Well, until last week when he finally mustered up the courage to ask you on a date. You were shocked, but you had been hoping that he felt the same way since you had met, so you happily accepted his offer. He was equally surprised to hear you agree, but made sure to give you no time to second guess your decision. He gave you a date, time, and location, and left immediately. 

─────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───────

It was the day before your date with James, and you were spending the evening babysitting your godson, Draco. You and Narcissa met at Hogwarts, as she was a prefect when you started. Although she was much older than you, she quickly became an older sister figure, and the two of you remained close. When Draco was born, she granted you the role of being his godmother, as she trusted your good nature and believed that you’d be a better option than Bellatrix. 

Draco was only a few months old, so he didn’t require much entertainment. He had been asleep for most of the time, but you kept the bassinet right by the couch so that you could keep an eye on him. While he slept, you were spending your time reading a book.

The peaceful silence of your home was broken by a knock on your door. You stood up, placing the book down on the couch and checking on Draco to make sure that he was still asleep before heading to the door. 

You opened the door to be met with a very sad and very wet James Potter, holding a soggy bouquet of flowers while his hair dripped water onto your doormat. His glasses were also covered in droplets, so he took them off to wipe them down before putting them back on his face.

“James? What are you doing here?” You questioned, taking in his soaking wet appearance.

“What do you mean, what am I doing here? You stood me up! I waited an hour for you!” He exclaimed, folding his arms. The wet bouquet of red roses slapped against his chest, causing water to flick right onto your face.

You wiped your cheek, looking at him with a perplexed look. “Shh, lower your voice. And what are you talking about? It’s the 16th. Our date is tomorrow.”

He stood there, completely dumbfounded. “What? I thought- are you sure?”

“I’m sure. You said the 17th.”

“Oh…I am so stupid. I put the wrong date in my calendar. Uh…” He looked down at the flowers, sighing before offering them to you. “I got you these.”

You smiled, taking the dripping wet bouquet from him. “Thank you, James. You’re a sweetheart. And an idiot.”

“I know, I know. But it adds to the charm though, doesn’t it?” He grinned cockily. “Since I’m here already, can I come in? We could always just move our date to today. And to your house instead of a restaurant.”

“We can, but I don’t think you’ll want to.”

“Nonsense.” He said, stepping past you and into your house. He kicked his shoes off, pulling out his wand and using a charm on himself to dry his clothes and hair. “Why wouldn’t I want to stay- oh.” His gaze landed on the self-rocking bassinet in your living room. “Who the hell is that?”

You stifled a laugh at his question. “That’s my godson, Draco. I’m babysitting.”

“Draco as in Draco Malfoy?” He asked, lowering his voice as he walked over to the bassinet. 

“Mhm. Remember how I told you guys that Narcissa asked me to be his godmother?” You unwrapped the rose bouquet, starting to cut the stems to fit into a vase.

“Right. He has his father’s blindingly blonde hair.” He snickered to himself, settling on the couch.

As soon as he sat down, Draco woke up and immediately started to cry. You cursed, putting the scissors down to go and dry your wet hands. As you prepared to go soothe him, James picked him up. “I got him.”

“Are you sure? I can come get him.” You said, wiping your hands on the hand towel.

“Yeah, of course. Don’t worry about him.” He said, beginning to rock Draco in his arms. “Am I doing this right, though?” 

You smiled at the sight of your crazy “friend” attempting to calm a screaming baby. “Yes, that should be fine.”

Draco began to settle down, and James sighed in relief. You were so busy watching them that you had stopped paying attention to what you were doing, which resulted in you cutting your finger. You yelped in pain, looking down at your bleeding finger. “Oops.”

“What’d you do?” He asked, walking over with Draco in his arms. 

“My hand just slipped. It’s nothing.�� You said, going to the sink and running the water over it. 

He shifted his position so that he could hold Draco in one arm, taking his wand out with his free hand. “Let me see.”

You shut the water off, showing him your finger. He aimed his wand at it, using a bandaging spell to wrap it up for you.

All of the time you spent waiting for him to ask you out, combined with his kind gesture of the  flowers, soothing Draco, and tending to your finger was enough to make you want to grab his face and kiss him right then and there. 

“Why did it take you so long to ask me on a date?” You questioned, looking up at him.

“Well, I didn’t know that you wanted me to. Trust me, I wanted to, and Sirius never shut his mouth about it. I just didn’t want to ruin our friendship. If I knew you were waiting for me, I would have asked the day after you pulled that prank on us.”

“Really?” Your heart fluttered at his words.

“Of course. Have my feelings for you not been obvious this entire time?” He queried, subconsciously rubbing Draco’s back to put him back to sleep.

“I guess they have been to everyone else, but not to me. I didn’t want to risk ruining our friendship either.” You admitted.

“Well, it’s certainly ruined now, and I couldn’t be happier about it. I’ve waited a long time for this, Y/n. And I know this isn’t an ideal first date, but it doesn’t matter to me. I’m just happy to be with you.”

“Me too.” You smiled, taking Draco from him gently. “I’ll put him back down and then we can spend some time together. Will you move the bassinet into my bedroom for me?”

─────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───────

James had helped you move Draco into your bedroom before the two of you settled onto the couch together. The warmth of the fireplace was keeping the chilly weather out, and the dim glow was illuminating the room in a soft light. 

“Now that he’s asleep again, we should take advantage of our moment of freedom before he interrupts again.” James spoke, breaking the comfortable silence. “...I didn’t mean that in a suggestive way, I just meant that we can enjoy our first date in peace.” He clarified, chuckling nervously.

Before you could respond, he spoke again. “Alright, maybe I did mean it in a suggestive way.” Without hesitation, he leaned in, his lips brushing against yours. Despite being so eager, he kissed you with such tenderness that you could feel heat rising in your cheeks. After a few moments, he pulled away to look into your eyes.

“I waited way too long to do that.” He stated, glancing between your eyes and your lips.

“Yeah, it’s about damn time.” You said, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him into another kiss. 

The two of you spent the rest of the night sharing kisses and hushed conversations over the crackling sound of the fireplace. You ended up under a warm blanket, cuddling on the couch and basking in each other’s company. 

─────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───────

[mastermindmiko]

Hi! Hope you're well! I was hoping you could make a Matteo Riddle ×Fem!reader? Something with some angst but it's completely up to you!

Secret

Pairing: Matteo Riddle + Reader

Word count: 1023

Summary: You and Matteo keep your relationship a secret

Warnings: swearing and mentions of bullying.

Hey! If you think this didn't completely suck, feel free to check out my masterlist.

Thank you sm for requesting! Hope you like it

"Hush, someone could hear us and then come see us, and that is bad." I scold him, but he just continues to look at me with a fond smile on his lips. Even after dating him for so long, the action still brings butterflies into my stomach.

I blush, then look away. I hear him chuckle before feeling his long fingers grab my chin and make me look at him. He presses a sweet kiss to my lips, and then mumbles, "I really don't care if someone sees us."

"Well, I do." I reply, barely thinking with the way he's kissing me. He hums, "I guess then it matters to me."

It's things like this that make me believe that matteo is not in any way like his father, despite what I initially thought and everyone else believed.

I begrudgingly part away from him, and say, "I have to go."

"No..." He groans and holds my waist tighter. He pulls me close to his chest, but I resist by pushing against it. I try, "I'll see you tonight. I have to get to lunch, or else Harry will be suspicious."

"Fine."

I head to lunch and matteo, and I part ways. It always hurt knowing that I couldn't share my relationship with my closest friends. However, it was for the best.

"Where were you?" Hermione says as soon as I'm close enough to the Gryffindor table. Harry and Ron pipe up to look at me like meerkats, both giving me a smile. I smile back and sit beside Hermione.

I don't get a chance to answer because Harry starts nearly growling when he sees Malfoy and his goons approaching, and with them, my boyfriend.

I resist smiling and start to pile up some food on my plate, staring at the table instead of at my gorgeous man. My eyes betray me as they try to sneak a glance of him to find him already looking at me. He shoots me a quick wink, which turns me into a tomato.

Malfoy sneers, "Ready to lose, Potter?"

"In your dreams, Malfoy." Harry counters, and Malfoy turns to Ron, deciding against saying that he's poor again. His gaze moves to hermione, deciding that the mud blood insult has gotten old, and then it lands on me.

"It wouldn't be hard losing with such a chit chaser -" Malfoy starts, but matteo clears his threat, and all of a sudden, Malfoy shuts up, returning to insulting Ron and Hermione instead.

That was weird. Unless...I was going to kill Matteo. I frown, shot him a glare, and he frowns, too. Malfoy eventually gets tired of teasing us, and he leaves.

We all return to lunch like normal, but I can tell that Harry was feeling anxious about tomorrow's match. I reassure him, "Don't worry, little brother. We're going to beat their asses."

Harry grins, but it then drops after Ron decides to say, "It was weird... the way Malfoy didn't keep insulting you."

"Maybe he has a crush." Hermione teases, and I feel myself get disgusted by the thought of it. I gag, and my friends laugh. Ron decides it's funny enough to keep going, "If anyone had a crush on her, it's Riddle, notice how he never aims any bludgers at her."

My eyes go wide, but I let out a nervous chuckle in order to hide my nervousness. I told matteo that that would raise suspicions. A few months ago, I even told him to hit me specifically, but of course, he refused.

The subject gets dropped, though, after a couple of laughs. I continued on with eating until I saw Matteo leave the Great Hall, messing up his hair. It was our signal. I stand up abruptly and then say, "I'll be back."

I rush out of the Great Hall and head to where I already know Matteo is heading. The room of requirement where we meet when we want to spend extended durations of time together.

I enter the room, and Matteo has his back to me. He's sorting through some books probably picking which one we're going to read together tonight. I shout, "Matteo fucking Riddle!"

He stills, his whole body turning rigid, slowly turning to face me. I fold my arms in front of my chest and glare at him. He grins anxiously and says, "Sweetheart?"

"Don't sweetheart me! You told your friends about us." I say, and his face turns guilty, so it was true. He takes a few steps close to me and explains, "This way they can stop bullying you."

"Them not bullying me has caused my friends to be suspicious." I say with anger. He frowns deeply and takes a few more steps closer to me until he can take my hands in his. I don't resist the action his hands are really soft.

He whispers, "Would it be so bad if they knew?"

"Yes, we wouldn't be able to be together then." I say, and feeling the anger drift away and the sadness seep in. Matteo sighs, "Maybe they would understand."

"They won't. You don't know what they say about when you're not there. It breaks my heart, but I can't lose them -" I say and cut myself off at the end. He sighs, "If they really love you, they would understand."

"I don't want to risk losing them-or you." I say, then meet his eyes to continue, "The thought of losing you scares me."

"And it terrifies me, but we can't go on like this-"

"I promise I'll tell them, I don't know when, but I will." I say, every time he brings this up, I feel like it's the end, every time I hope that it isn't.

"That's enough for me." Matteo says slowly. He gives me a small smile and then presses a quick kiss to my lips. He pulls me in for a hug, and I hug him as tightly as I can without suffocating him.

He parts then presses a kiss to my forehead. I really love him, but I'll tell him that another day. He says, "Let's go read a book, huh?"

a/n: I really don't know a lot about Matteo, but from what I know, this is how I imagine him being. I hope I did him justice.

[starssaroundmyscarssblog]

𝐋𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑 𝐇𝐀𝐙𝐄, series masterlist

pairing: percy weasley x fem!oc (olympia slughorn)

summary: in which olympia slughorn hates percy weasley, until one unfortunate group project causes her previous thoughts to be revealed as nothing more than self-trickery

total word count:

warnings: none at this point :)

i. weasley vs slughorn

ii. gentle ties

iii. money money money

iv. burnout

v. the 'o' team

🪩⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊🪶

[strxwberrymoonstar]

heyy i love your blog the fics are so cute!!! i wanted to kindly ask you if you could do a fic with neville? i love the way you portray him in your stories. usually others just write him off as sme shy weak boy but you portray him in such a special way, like yes he is shy but theres more to him than just loving plants and being inroverted, and i respect you so much for it. i was wonderng if you could do a big headcanon or fic centering around neville having a crush on the reader or him being the reader's boyfriend? i just miss him sm :(

Holy shit thank you so much!! I’ll try to make one about him being the reader’s boyfriend and them getting ready for classes!

this was so overdue and it sucks im so sorry, but i want to post it now and i’ll come back to it a in bit to update it <3

—————————————————————

Neville X reader - a sunny morning

The sharp sun ray’s sneak through the castle’s curtains as you lift the blanket up and over your head.

A yawn surpasses your lips as you lift your hand up to block the sun that reveals itself. Your eyes blink slowly, trying to get the sleep out of them as you move to sit up.

You lift the blanket off of your head and throw it away from your body. Lifting yourself off your bed while another yawn sneaks pass as you walk to the end of your bed, where your clothes lie.

Your warm pyjamas shimmy off of your skin as you put on your Hogwarts attire. You check yourself out in the mirror once last time before heading out the door.

The soft chatter fills the Gryffindor’s home room, people scattered all over the free chairs and sofas while some are studying at the tables over by the windows.

“Good morning, sweetheart,” a warm hand touches your tricep lovingly, giving it a soft squeeze. A warmth fills your body as you subconsciously lean towards him, his arms coming to rest around your shoulders as you lean backwards onto his chest. He places his chin on top of your head. “How did you sleep?” he asks, the breath of his words moving your hair slightly.

“It was good, missed you though,” You say, a sigh following your sentence. He squeezes your shoulders a bit tighter, a comforting reminder that he’s there. “That’s okay sweets, i’m here now,” Neville says, leaning down beside your head to place a quick peck onto your cheek.

[pottermagiczz]

Hello world! How have you been?

Can anybody please suggest me some Harry's one shots, or maybe even series? I soo wanna read him and I feel like I've read EVERY shot :((

[msmk11]

-one shots-

nothing yet...

-head cannons-

nothing yet...

-series-

nothing yet...

-blurbs-

𖤓 Pretty Boy

𖤓 Darling Boys (platonic!! Mom!reader x son!harry)

𖤓 Not Worth Your Tears

[pottergff]

Hi do you by any chance write smut? I can't find any good ones because harry is so underrated. Also when I found your account it's like I have entered heaven 🙏🙏💆

pretty girl.

hjp x reader ! (16 years old).

summary: riding harry's thigh in the burrow, trying to be quiet.

warnings: smut / tight ridding / tits play.

a/u: tysm for the request! this is my first smut so i hope this is okay, is short :)

Everyone in the Burrow was asleep, the only sounds being the ragged breathing of the two of you, trying to hold back.

“H-Harry, uhmfp,” you whimpered, gripping his hair tightly and making your boyfriend let out a low growl. His tongue circled your nipple and he gently tugged on it with his teeth, repeating the motion a few times to pleasure you. “Shh, they can’t hear us.”

You had to close your eyes to stop yourself from letting out another eager moan, which threatened to escape your lips when you felt your clit rub against his still-clothed thigh and your underwear. You pressed your legs against his thigh, rubbing yourself even harder and biting your lip in an attempt to obey him and shut you up.

“That’s it, such a pretty girl,” he whispered roughly, snuggling into your chest. You could easily come just from the sight and Harry’s voice, so damn hot. You threw your head back a little, closing your eyes at the feeling of your boyfriend marking your tits again. His hands gripping your bare hips so tightly they were sure to leave purple circles. Your hands pulled at his hair as you felt the knot in your stomach about to break.

“Baby, I-I’m close.” You whispered trying to hold back a moan, grinding yourself even harder against him. Hearing you, his mouth left your breast so he could look into your eyes, helping you with your movements and letting out another small growl at the feeling of you riding his thigh. “Come for me, babe” he murmured, his voice husky with desire, which made the wet spot on your underwear grow bigger.

You needed nothing more than his words to cum, obeying him. You hid your blushed, breathless face against his bare chest, trying to quietly come back to reality as waves of pleasure coursed through your body and your soft, quietly moans filled the room. Harry stroked your hair, waiting for you to recover so he could gently grab your chin, making you look up at him.

A small, shy smile appeared on your still flushed face as you saw his smirk. Before you could think of anything else, his lips found yours. Your hands were still tangled in his hair, messing it up even more.

“My pretty girl,” he murmuled as he kissed you, you could feel his smile against your lips, making you giggle. "Yours".

[fear-less]

pls i need harry content 😭

₊˚⊹˚ 𐙚 he's like a poem I wish I wrote

pairing: harry potter x f!reader

➥ In which, harry finally confesses his feelings towards his closed off friend.

Warnings:black cat gf golden retriever bf, reader is a gryffindor, fluff, no smut but it gets 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂, they make out, idk what else 

a/n: I was trying not to write too much harry BUT HEY, if u guys like him sm I will no longer hold myself back🙏

2.4k words 

It was a crisp autumn day at Hogwarts, the kind where the air was cool but not biting, and the leaves scattered across the grounds in hues of amber and crimson. You were sitting by the Great Lake, a book in hand, when you heard the familiar crunch of footsteps behind you. You didn’t need to turn around to know who it was.

“Skipping lunch again?” Harry’s voice called out, warm and teasing.

You turned to face him, raising an eyebrow. “Maybe I just enjoy the quiet. Not everyone’s a bundle of energy like you, Potter.”

Harry grinned, undeterred by your sharp tone. “Or maybe you just enjoy pretending to be aloof. I brought you a pumpkin pasty, by the way.” He held it out, and despite your best efforts, a small smile tugged at the corner of your lips.

“Fine,” you said, taking the pasty. “Thanks.”

Harry plopped down beside you, his untidy black hair catching the sunlight. His green eyes sparkled with a mix of mischief and warmth that could charm anyone—though you’d never admit it aloud. You’d always been the reserved one, the one who observed from the shadows, while Harry was the embodiment of sunshine, drawing people to him effortlessly.

“So, what are you reading this time?” he asked, leaning closer to peer at your book.

“It’s a Muggle mystery novel,” you replied, shifting slightly to keep the book out of his reach. “Not that you’d understand it.”

Harry laughed, the sound loud and unabashed. “Is that a challenge? You know I love a good mystery.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t suppress the fondness in your voice. “I think your idea of a mystery involves chasing after enchanted keys or dodging cursed objects. This is a bit more subtle.”

The two of you sat there for a while, the easy banter flowing between you. Despite your contrasting personalities, you’d always found comfort in Harry’s presence. His warmth balanced your cool demeanor, and his relentless optimism chipped away at your walls in a way that no one else could.

ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ

Over the weeks, your time together became more frequent. Whether it was studying in the library, sneaking out to the kitchens for a late-night snack, or simply wandering the castle grounds, Harry seemed to seek you out more and more. You didn’t mind—though you’d never admit how much you looked forward to his company.

One evening, you were curled up in an armchair in the common room, a book in hand, when Harry bounded over, his energy as infectious as ever.

“You’re always reading,” he teased, flopping into the seat across from you. “How do you ever have time for fun?”

“This is fun,” you replied without looking up. “Not everyone feels the need to be constantly moving, you know.”

Harry leaned forward, resting his chin on his hands. “But wouldn’t it be more fun if you had company? Say, someone to annoy you until you finally agree to take a break?”

You shot him a pointed look but couldn’t hide the amusement in your eyes. “And I suppose you’re volunteering for that role?”

“Obviously,” he said with a grin. “Who else could do it as well as me?”

Despite your best efforts, you found yourself smiling. Harry’s golden retriever energy was hard to resist, and as much as you pride yourself on being unshakable, he always managed to find the cracks in your armor.

ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ

It was during a Quidditch match that Harry first realized something had shifted. Gryffindor was playing Slytherin, and you were sitting in the stands, your usual reserved demeanor on display. But when Harry made a particularly daring move to dodge a Bludger, you’d leapt to your feet, your hands clenched tightly around the railing.

After the match, as the team celebrated in the common room, Harry’s eyes sought yours across the crowd. You were sitting in your usual corner, your expression carefully neutral, but when your gaze met his, a flicker of warmth passed between you. It left him wondering if there was something more beneath your guarded exterior.

ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ

One snowy afternoon, the two of you ventured out to the courtyard. The air was crisp, and snow blanketed the grounds in a pristine white. You’d been reluctant to leave the warmth of the castle, but Harry’s enthusiasm was contagious.

“Come on,” he said, tossing a snowball at you. “Even you can’t resist a little fun in the snow.”

You glared at him, brushing the snow from your cloak. “You’re impossible, Potter.”

“And you’re predictable,” he shot back with a grin. “But I’ll take that as a challenge.”

Before you could respond, he launched another snowball at you. What started as a one-sided attack quickly turned into a full-blown snowball fight, laughter echoing through the courtyard as you darted behind pillars and trees for cover. Finally, Harry tackled you into a snowbank, both of you breathless and laughing.

“Truce?” he asked, his green eyes shining with mischief.

“Truce,” you agreed, your cheeks flushed from the cold and the exertion.

As you lay there, side by side in the snow, the playful atmosphere shifted. Harry’s laughter faded, and he turned to look at you, his expression softening.

“You know,” he began, his voice quieter now, “you’re not as tough as you pretend to be.”

You raised an eyebrow, but before you could retort, he continued.

“I mean, you act all aloof and mysterious, but you’re one of the kindest people I know. You just don’t let many people see it.”

His words caught you off guard, and for a moment, you didn’t know what to say. Harry’s gaze was steady, his usual playful demeanor replaced by something deeper, something more earnest.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you said finally, though your voice lacked its usual bite.

Harry smiled, reaching out to brush a snowflake from your hair. “Sure you don’t.”

The gesture was so simple, so natural, but it sent a warmth spreading through you that had nothing to do with the cold. For the first time, you allowed yourself to meet his gaze fully, and in that moment, everything seemed to shift.

ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ

The realization came slowly, like the first rays of sunlight after a long night. Neither of you said anything right away, but from that day on, the dynamic between you began to change. The teasing became softer, the moments of silence more comfortable. Harry’s golden retriever energy still clashed with your black cat personality, but instead of opposing forces, you began to feel like two halves of a whole.

One evening, as the two of you sat in the common room by the fire, Harry seemed uncharacteristically quiet. You glanced at him, noticing the way his hands fidgeted with the hem of his jumper.

“Alright, Potter. Out with it,” you said, setting your book aside. “What’s going on in that overly active brain of yours?”

He looked up at you, his green eyes meeting yours with a vulnerability you hadn’t seen before. “I... I’ve been thinking,” he began, his voice quieter than usual. “About us.”

You blinked, caught off guard. “Us?”

Harry nodded, taking a deep breath before continuing. “I don’t think I’ve ever been very good at hiding how I feel. And when it comes to you... I just can’t pretend anymore.”

Your heart thudded in your chest as he shifted closer, his expression earnest and open. “I care about you. A lot more than just as a friend. You make everything feel... brighter. And I know we’re different, but I think that’s what makes it work. You make me want to be better, and I can’t imagine not having you by my side.”

For a moment, you were silent, the weight of his words sinking in. Harry’s gaze didn’t waver, even as a faint blush crept up his cheeks.

“I... I didn’t think you felt that way,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “I thought I was just another friend to you.”

“You’ve never been just another friend,” Harry said firmly. “Not to me.”

Something inside you softened, the walls you’d carefully built around your heart crumbling under the warmth of his words. Tentatively, you reached out, your fingers brushing against his.

“I care about you too, Harry,” you said, a small, genuine smile breaking through your usual reserved demeanor. “More than I realized.”

Relief and joy lit up his face, and before either of you could second-guess, Harry leaned in. His lips met yours, soft and hesitant at first, as if afraid to break the moment. But as you kissed him back, the hesitance melted away, replaced by a warmth that felt like coming home.

When you finally pulled away, Harry rested his forehead against yours, a wide grin on his face. “Well, that’s one mystery solved.”

You laughed softly, your cheeks warm. “You’re impossible, Potter.”

“And you’re perfect,” he replied, his eyes sparkling with affection.

For the first time, you didn’t argue.

Summer had arrived at last, and with it, a welcome break from the hustle and bustle of Hogwarts. You and Harry had been inseparable since that snowy afternoon. The teasing, the gentle banter, the quiet moments of understanding—everything felt like it had fallen into place. But now, as the summer stretched out before you, things had shifted once again. You were no longer just two friends trying to figure things out; you were together, in every sense of the word.

You hadn’t been entirely sure what to expect when Harry came to visit your home for the first time, but here he was, standing on the doorstep of your family’s house, his usual grin brighter than ever. He'd gotten a bit bolder since you’d started dating—especially when it came to little touches, lingering glances, and teasing words that seemed to have a new weight behind them.

“I can't believe you actually live here,” Harry said, looking around at the cozy, quiet neighborhood, his eyes wide with curiosity.

You gave him a playful roll of your eyes as you led him inside. “It's not the Burrow, Potter, but it’s home.”

Your parents weren’t around for the day—out visiting relatives, leaving you with plenty of time to spend with Harry. It was still early, the sun hanging low in the sky, but there was a languid, warm energy in the air. You felt more at ease than you’d ever been before, Harry’s presence at your side a comfort.

Once inside, Harry took off his shoes, following you into the living room. The house was quieter than the bustling castle, the kind of peace you’d grown up with. You gestured to the couch. “Make yourself comfortable. I’ve got a few things to do, but you can, uh, hang out here.”

Harry was already plopping down onto the couch, kicking back with a sigh. “No complaints here. This place is nice.”

You nodded, disappearing for a moment to grab drinks from the kitchen, but when you came back, Harry was looking at you with an unreadable expression.

"Something on your mind?" you asked, arching an eyebrow.

He didn’t answer at first, instead leaning forward slightly, his voice dropping to a hushed, serious tone. "I’ve been thinking a lot about… us." His gaze met yours with an intensity that made your breath catch.

You froze for a second, the air between you thickening. You weren't sure if he was being playful, or if he was genuinely serious, but the way he was looking at you sent a thrill running through your chest.

“What do you mean?” you asked, trying to keep your voice steady.

Harry smirked but didn’t look away. "Well, we’re not exactly... new to this anymore, are we?"

The playful glint in his eyes made your heartbeat a little faster, but before you could reply, Harry was standing up, crossing the room in a few quick steps. He stopped right in front of you, his eyes trailing over your face as if he was memorizing every inch of you.

He didn’t say anything more. He simply reached out, gently brushing a stray lock of hair from your face, his fingertips grazing your skin in a way that made your pulse spike. His hand lingered there for a moment longer than necessary, the warmth of his touch sending a jolt of electricity through you.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been more sure of something,” he whispered, his voice low and thick with meaning.

You didn’t say anything—couldn’t, really. All the thoughts in your head scrambled together as Harry’s lips met yours, soft and tentative at first, but with a hunger that made the world around you blur.

His kiss deepened as he pulled you closer, one hand sliding around your waist, the other moving to the back of your neck, drawing you in even tighter. You could feel the heat of his body against yours, the way he seemed to melt into you. You responded in kind, your hands finding the edge of his shirt, fingers brushing against his skin, and the contact made the already suffocating atmosphere feel even more intense.

He pulled away just slightly, enough to breathe. His forehead rested against yours, and you both lingered there for a moment, catching your breath.

“I’ve wanted this for so long,” Harry murmured, his lips brushing against your ear as his hands traced slow circles on your back.

“Then why wait?” you whispered back, your voice sounding foreign to your own ears.

Without another word, Harry kissed you again, this time more urgently, more desperately, as if he couldn’t hold back any longer. His hands roamed to your waist, pulling you flush against him, and you could feel the shift in the energy between you, the building anticipation.

The kiss broke as you both gasped for air, but Harry’s hands found their way to your face again, his touch still as gentle as it was fierce. His eyes locked with yours. "Are you sure?"

You didn’t answer with words. Instead, you closed the distance between you again, kissing him with all the emotion, all the longing you’d kept buried for so long.

And in that moment, the world outside the house ceased to exist. It was just you and Harry, tangled together in the quiet intimacy of this new chapter in your relationship. The summer sun streamed through the windows, casting long shadows across the room, but all you could focus on was the feel of his hands on your skin, the warmth of his breath, and the unspoken promise of more to come.

[obriens-world]

Hello!

My name is Phoebe and I am new to writing on tumblr! I have been writing for years now and have even wrote a fanfiction on wattpad (mygbeebs) Currently, I'm planning my novel but in the mean time I want to express my love for certain characters to people who also feel the same way! I would love for people to send in requests of what they want to read as long as it is something I am comfortable writing.

I DO NOT WRITE SMUT!!

I ONLY WRITE X READER FICS

At the moment, I will only be writing for a couple fandoms but if I become more popular I will be willing to introduce more:

The Maze Runner (Books and movies):

-Thomas, Minho, Frypan, Gally

Harry Potter (movies only):

-Harry, Ron, Draco, Mattheo, Theo Nott, Tom Riddle

Marauders:

-Sirius, Remus, Regulus, James

Hogwarts Legacy:

-Sebastian Sallow, Ominis Gaunt, Garreth Weasley, (potentially a male oc in the future but I haven't made one yet!)

[mentally-in-northern-italy]

how did it end? — e.r.

Pairing: Evan Rosier x fem!reader

Summary: Estranged after graduating from Hogwarts, you haven't seen Evan in years when he finally elects to find you again — but his timing isn’t quite right. It never really is.

Word Count: 2.2K

A/N: Do I have 56789 assignments due over the next week? Yes. Did I still choose to finish this year-old drabble up? Also yes. Is it still a drabble? Not really. Not sure if people read for Evan, but here is the drabble that was promised a while ago. Reader and Evan's relationship at Hogwarts is open to interpretation. I really hope I can get my Cedric fic out bc it's rotting in my WIPs.

—

It was tolerable, you suppose, but only just. 

The stench of booze mingled with sweat far too often, and the air carried a perpetual weight to it that was hard to ignore. The warmth was nice, yes, but the heat frequently bordered on oppressive on autumn nights such as this one, when the pub was full of bearded wizards and graying witches, boisterous and loud. 

Working the bar at the Leaky Cauldron, you had long deigned, was a wholly mindless pursuit, though, and for this, you were glad. At this time of night, no one cared enough to engage in small talk, much too drunk for anything civil. Plus, most were regulars, with orders plainly memorized and simple, satiated often with a glass of Firewhiskey or a Butterbeer and at times, an easy—

“One cup of tea, please.”

The sentence carries a lilt much too familiar, playful and teasing, an amused smile concealed somewhere in between and the request just as odd. You don’t have to look up to know who it is, and he can tell. He revels in it, his undeterred smugness radiating off of him and spilling over the counter he’s currently leaning against. 

“This is a pub, Rosier, if you haven’t already noticed.” You don’t look up, unwilling to give him the satisfaction. Though, you can’t do much to hide the slight quiver of your hand as you pour out some Firewhiskey and his small, exhaling laugh tells you he has taken note of it immediately, as subtle as it may have been.  

“I have noticed actually,” you can feel his eyes linger on your hands before darting to your face. “Unfortunately.” He adds, with a furrow in his eyebrows and a slight grimace as he looks around the pub with poorly concealed distaste. 

It’s much too late now – your peripherals have betrayed you – and your self-control has long since run dry. You catch his gaze as it settles back on you.  

The first thing you take note of is how different he looks since you saw him last — the blonde hair has lost a fraction of its luster, though still gorgeous, and his eyes have circles beneath them, telling of his exhaustion he does well to hide otherwise. His shirt is unironed, though tucked into his trousers neatly, and his jacket is thrown haphazardly over his shoulder. It’s oxymoronic in the most infuriating way possible and so Evan.

His grin, you notice with weary eyes though, remains the same, unwavering: blinding, almost to a fault, its shine reflected in his eyes as he takes you in. It’s a feeling long-forgotten, to be looked at this way by him. 

“You’re still as pretentious as ever, I see,” you say with a raise of your eyebrows. “Did you miss high tea this evening with your elitist friends? Or have they finally come to their senses and declared your company entirely dreadful?”

He doesn’t say anything for a moment, as if lost in thought, his eyes drinking you in slowly. “Oh, how I missed that sharp tongue of yours.” 

Your face grows hot at the implication. “You’re still just as insufferable.” 

He only grins as he leans forward, eyes sincere but mouth plainly amused. “And you're still just as beautiful.” 

You ignore the praise with a pointed determination he doesn’t quite like. He opens his mouth to say something again when a loud cheer erupts in the background and the simultaneous turn of heads is almost automatic, identical grimaces on both of your faces. An old wizard has fallen onto his arse in the most untoward manner in his drunken stupor. You blink as if it’s the tamest thing to have happened tonight and Evan shakes his head in what can only be described as disbelief. 

“Charming place you’ve got here,” he notes, tone thick with sarcasm and a hint of condescension that you’ve come to expect from him. You can see his arms resting on the counter now, as he sits, his jacket thrown somewhere behind him. The white fabric is rich but revealing as the warm glow of the overhead light shines on the skin underneath. You divert your gaze.

“Isn’t it?”

“Though it’d be infinitely more so if you could, indeed, fix me a cup of tea, love.”

You don’t spare him another glance as you uselessly dry off a cup. “I’m sure your house elves will do well to put aside their contempt for you for a few minutes and fix you a cup or two, if you were to ask nicely enough, love.”

“I prefer asking pretty barkeeps for my cups of tea, thank you very much.” 

“And I prefer denying such requests.” 

He goes quiet finally, his ring-clad fingers drumming on the counter as he sits. He wears an infuriatingly perfect smile still – you don’t think he has stopped smiling since he’d stepped foot into the pub – and his eyes are holding yours, as if in silent challenge. After a moment, he speaks again.

“Edmund!” He calls to the other barkeep, covering the far end of the counter. He knows his name. You try to act unsurprised, though you’re anything but. “A cup of tea, please?” 

“Coming up, Rosier!” 

He turns back to you, smirk smug and victorious. You grip your washcloth tighter. 

“You’ve been here before,” you remark plainly. 

“Very perceptive.” He rests his face on his hand, propped up on the counter and smiles wryly.

“And yet, you’re back,” you mock, a mirthless hint of a smile on your face. “You must’ve found the establishment thoroughly enriching.” 

He pretends to be deep in thought. “Well, I could never quite find what I’d been looking for all the times previous.” 

“Cups of tea? Yes, I’m sure they’re hard to find in London.” 

“Pretty barkeeps, actually. You don’t work many shifts here.” 

You scoff, though your cheeks burn at the astute observation. “Edmund isn’t pretty enough for you?” 

“Oh, he is,” His gaze only shifts when a cup of tea floats to him and he winks at Edmund in thanks. What an obnoxious gesture, you think. “But he’s not nearly as difficult.” 

“And you prefer them to be difficult?” 

“I prefer them to be you.” His sincerity catches you off guard, unsure eyes snapping to him at once. He hides his amusement in the cup as he sips slowly. “So yes, excruciatingly difficult.” 

You hum, as if in agreement. The poorly lit interior of the pub doesn’t possess the capability to dull the shine of his eyes, or conceal his handsome – albeit tired – face, as much you would’ve liked it to. There’s a new scar, you notice, that he’s acquired just above his lip and you have to bite your tongue to stop yourself from asking useless questions you would regret verbalizing later. 

“You look well,” his eyes follow you as you work, warm and curious. You don’t hate the feeling as much as you should and you try not to bask in the feeling – as short-lived as it may be.

You huff, now blatantly aware of the stains on your work blouse, your unkempt hair that is a stark contrast to his perfect locks. “I wish I could say the same for you.” Even posed as a jest, the statement sounds ridiculous uttered to someone like Evan. 

He decides to indulge you. “No? Less handsome than before?” 

“There wasn’t much to start with, so I must evaluate accordingly.”

A chuckle that feels too much like a reward. “Cruel, as ever.”

“Honest, more like.”

“I’m something of a masochist, I suppose,” he stretches, leisurely and cat-like. “I quite missed your jabs in Paris.” It’s a plain-enough admission. He missed your jabs, not you. You remind yourself of that over and over. He’s clamant in that way, lazes in attention from wherever he can get it. You’re not special. You never were.

Paris, though. You savor the bit of detail he has provided you on his endeavors, something he has otherwise elected to keep quite secret ever since graduation. There isn’t much you know about him anymore – who he spends his time with, what he’s up to. Though, there are rumors. It’s a time of war, after all, and he’s a Rosier.

“I’m sure you didn’t miss them for long. I hear the French are revered for their candor. Did they also call you a bumbling idiot every chance they got?” 

He traces the rim of his teacup slowly, as if he’s coyly willing you to take note of the movement. You oblige involuntarily. He’s satisfied with the quick flicker of your eyes enough to give you a smirk. “Not quite. ‘Devilishly handsome’ were the exact words used, I believe.”

An amused exhale from your lips. “Your mother may be French, Rosier, but she doesn’t count.” 

He laughs and its sound hangs in the air around you in a way that makes it hard to breathe. “You know, I’m not sure you’re very good at the ‘customer service’ bit. Are you this rude to all your customers?”

“Just the unwelcome ones.”

He hums. “You’d quite like Paris, I think.” He changes the subject with all the nonchalance of flipping a page of a book you haven’t quite finished reading but have become bored of nonetheless. You note the redirection with interest. 

“What were you up to in Paris?” You oblige as your curiosity trumps your ego. You’re aware of the staunchness of the question, of the sudden heaviness that now hangs around the two of you in the pub.

“Familial obligations, and the like.” Automatic, much too rehearsed for your liking, but you can tell it’s true, at least in part. He has a tendency to look away when he lies and so far, his eyes have been set stiflingly steady – on you. He rubs his forearm absent-mindedly. “I didn’t want to come back.”

You bite back a bitter laugh. “Why did you?”

He looks down into his cup. “The tea isn’t the same.” 

“I’m sure.”

“And I searched far and wide, believe me.”

“A valiant effort.” You scrub the grimy countertops absent-mindedly. 

“Oh, I’m anything but.” He sips his tea again. Offhandedly, he adds, “If I had been more brave, perhaps I would’ve stopped your engagement sooner.”

Your eyes snap to him at once but he remains indifferent, glancing into his cup and reading the leaves as if he’s in Divination. You try to hide your surprise but you can’t do much to mask the break of your voice. “What– How did you–”

He finally meets your eyes with a smile that borders on bitter. “Congratulations, by the way,” he says slowly as if he’s letting the words mull in his mouth and turn sour. Another cheer erupts in the background, a stark contrast to the absence of a celebratory cadence in his own voice.

You breathe shakily. “Is that why you’re here then? To bend me to your many whims and tell me not to marry him?” The drumming of your heart is steady and disturbing.

“Would you like me to?”

Yes. “No.” 

“Why aren’t you wearing your ring?” He asks, as if the question had been lodged inside his throat the whole night and has finally broken free. You avert your gaze. He’d always had a knack for asking questions you couldn’t quite voice the answers to.

“I think you should go,” you breathe.

“Is this to spite me?”

“To spite you? Who do you —” Anger envelops you. Only he would assume that your marital arrangements were solely to spite him.

“Do you love him?” He presses, abandoning the feigned nonchalance and speaking with an urgency that unsettles you.

“Leave.”

“Do you?”

A pause you’re not sure how to fill. “What does it matter?” 

His eyes search yours and seem to find the very thing you’ve worked so hard to conceal. His gaze softens. “Don’t marry him.”

The soft admonition knocks the air out of your lungs. You only gape at him, hurt and angry at his audacity. “How dare you?”

He stays still, unspeaking and unmoving, as if he, himself, knows he has stepped over a line. He purses his lips to stop himself from saying anything else. Pushing the empty tea cup aside, he stands and dons his coat. “I’m going to go,” he says quietly. 

You grit your teeth further. You should’ve expected this by now. Of course, he was going to leave after completely derailing your life. “What–”

“I’ve said what I needed to say,” he speaks again, shoving his hands into his pockets like a petulant child. “Don’t marry him.” He repeats, expression serious and solemn for the first time tonight.

You open your mouth to reprimand him but he interrupts you.

“Please,” he exhales and his plea is almost too quiet to hear amidst the bar chatter. But you hear it all the same and something twists in your chest at the uncharacteristic ask. He turns to go before you can say anything else. You can only watch him leave, gripping the counter until your knuckles turn white.

Only after he leaves the pub do you see a napkin perched on the counter, where he sat just moments ago. 

9568 Highfield Road, London, W69 1QB

In the case that you change your mind.

Love, E.

The napkin crumples in your hand with unprecedented force.

You deliberate.

With a huff, you shove it in your pocket.

[sumsumstrashbin]

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐮𝐦𝐧 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐳𝐞 ~ 𝐣𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐩𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 ✧

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 𝟖𝟓𝟎

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐣𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐮𝐦𝐧 𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐭𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐟𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝, 𝐬𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐣𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐝𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐦 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐜𝐲?

𝐚/𝐧: 𝐢 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐣𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐛𝐨𝐲

─────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───────

The sound of leaves crunched beneath your feet as the breeze flowed through your hair. It was a brisk autumn day in the town you resided in, and the market was bustling with wizarding families picking out pumpkins and other goodies. 

You walked hand in hand with James, your partner of five years, and husband of one. He swung your hands together as you walked, chatting about your surroundings. 

“Care for a candy apple, love?” He asked, approaching one of the booths. 

“Sure.” You smiled, letting go of his hand to let him pay.

He held it out to you, waiting for you to take it. As you reached out to take it, he yanked it out of reach. “Excuse me, miss, you owe me some form of payment for this.” He quipped. “A kiss would be sufficient, I suppose.”

You rolled your eyes, giving him a peck on the lips. He then handed the apple to you, taking his compact 35mm film camera out of his pocket. “Smile.”

You held the apple up, giving him your best smile as he snapped the photo. 

“That’s going to turn out lovely.” He grinned, putting the camera back in his pocket. 

You had become very familiar with his camera, as he had a habit of snapping candid photos of you whenever he thought you looked too gorgeous to not be photographed. Despite magical cameras being readily available, he was quite fond of his muggle camera, capturing still photographs rather than the more common moving photos. He also liked bringing the camera into the bedroom, as he couldn’t resist taking a photo or two of you in rather compromising situations. He always kept two photos of you in his wallet: his favourite photo of you during your years at Hogwarts, and one more intimate photo of you that he tucked away behind the other one for “safe keeping”. 

The two of you spent most of the afternoon in the market, and he ensured to spoil you with anything that you may have glanced at for even a second. You ended up at a jewellery booth, admiring a beautiful locket on display. You decided against buying it, as you were content with the things James had already bought for you, so you put it back down and walked off. You quickly realised that James wasn’t following you, so you looked back, only to see him jogging after you.

“Sorry, I didn’t realise you weren’t following me.” You said, taking his hand. You felt something cool and metallic inside of his palm, and he looked down at you with a grin. He placed the object into your hand, while you watched him, confused. When you opened your hand, you found the locket.

“James, you shouldn’t have. It was expensive, and you’ve already bought me enough stuff.”

“I couldn’t resist. It’ll look so beautiful on you. Let me put it on for you.” He took it, stepping behind you to put it on your neck. His minty breath fanned against the back of your neck, and the cool metal of the locket against your skin sent chills through your body. No matter how long you were together, he still managed to give you butterflies. He pressed a loving kiss to the side of your neck before turning you around to have a look at the necklace.

“Thank you. It’s beautiful.” You smiled up at him, giving him a kiss on the cheek.

“Hold on, I need to get another picture. Stand right there.”

─────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───────

On the way back to your home, the two of you walked through a quiet park, full of the gorgeous colours of autumn. A rustling sound came from a pile of leaves under a tree, breaking the silence.

“What was that?” You queried, looking over to the source of the sound. 

“Probably just the wind.” James answered.

The rustle was heard again, causing him to turn towards the leaf pile as well. Just as he was about to speak, a small black cat emerged from the leaves, looking at the two of you.

You dropped to your knees, calling it over. “Oh my goodness, what a cutie! Come here!”

“Y/n, I don’t know if calling a random stray cat over is a good idea.” He said, putting a hand on your shoulder.

“Nonsense. It’s just a baby.” You said, watching as the cat slowly approached you. You allowed it to sniff your hand, before it began rubbing its face all over you for pets. 

“Can we keep it, James? Please? It has no collar, and it’s so cute!” You smiled, scratching the cat’s head.

“You know I’m more of a dog person, Y/n.”

“I know, but look how adorable it is! How could you say no to this little face?”

James sighed, knowing it would break your heart if he said no.

“Fine.”

─────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───────

The rest of the evening was spent cuddled up on the couch by the fireplace with James, and your new addition to the family curled up on your lap.

─────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───────

[dreamcubed]

ttpd anthology

(<-- return to main masterlist)

here is a collection of oneshots based on the album the tortured poets department: the anthology by taylor swift!

status ; incomplete | [4/31]

fortnight

character; ??? || genre; ??? || summary; ???

the tortured poets department

character; ??? || genre; ??? || summary; ???

my boy only breaks his favourite toys

character; ??? || genre; ??? || summary; ???

down bad (coming soon)

character; lorenzo berkshire || genre; s2l || summary; earth was very different than you had been taught, at least in its hidden corners, leaving you with many questions. thankfully, lorenzo was perfectly willing to answer everything you asked, provided that you did the same for him

so long, london

character; ??? || genre; ??? || summary; ???

but daddy i love him

character; ??? || genre; ??? || summary; ???

fresh out the slammer

character; ??? || genre; ??? || summary; ???

florida!!!

character; ??? || genre; ??? || summary; ???

guilty as sin? [18+]

character; tom riddle || genre; best friend's brother || summary; your uncontrollable feelings for the brother of your best friend, mattheo, led you to feeling incredibly guilty-- even though you had never even touched tom's skin

who's afraid of little old me?

character; ??? || genre; ??? || summary; ???

i can fix him (no really i can)

character; ??? || genre; ??? || summary; ???

loml

character; ??? || genre; ??? || summary; ???

i can do it with a broken heart

character; ??? || genre; ??? || summary; ???

the smallest man who ever lived

character; ??? || genre; ??? || summary; ???

the alchemy (coming soon)

character; oliver wood || genre; f2l || summary; in order to help oliver wood pass the time while quidditch is cancelled, you offer to help him in the dating scene

clara bow

character; ??? || genre; ??? || summary; ???

the black dog

character; ??? || genre; ??? || summary; ???

imgonnagetyouback

character; ??? || genre; ??? || summary; ???

the albatross

character; ??? || genre; ??? || summary; ???

chloe or sam or sophia or marcus

character; ??? || genre; ??? || summary; ???

how did it end?

character; ??? || genre; ??? || summary; ???

so high school

character; ??? || genre; ??? || summary; ???

i hate it here

character; theodore nott || genre; s2l || summary; a chance encounter caused your life to intertwine with theo nott's, of whom provided a comfort and solace you had sorely needed

thanK you aIMee

character; ??? || genre; ??? || summary; ???

i look in people's windows

character; ??? || genre; ??? || summary; ???

the prophecy

character; ??? || genre; ??? || summary; ???

cassandra

character; ??? || genre; ??? || summary; ???

peter

character; ??? || genre; ??? || summary; ???

the bolter

character; ??? || genre; ??? || summary; ???

robin - NEW

character; george weasley || genre; s2l || summary; your inability to talk would not stop george from pursuing his interest in you

the manuscript - NEW

character; lorenzo berkshire || genre; s2l || summary; getting over your brutal first relationship was years in the making, until you met a guy who seemed to know exactly how to patch up your wounds