#blind harry x reader | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

tusk-rumours · 8 months ago

Text

Sopping Wet

18+

poly!marauders x regulus black x remy (ratatouille) x stuart little x chicken little x gingy x winky x cat!snape x diego x buck x george cooper x dog!snape x macklemore x three blind mice

warnings: underage murder, heavy smut, bondage, murder, george cooper, threesomes, foursomes, probably fivesomes, degradation, furries, slavery, abuse, self-harm, men on men action, george cooper, loud noises, kink shaming probs, rat sucking, incest + more!

massive fun time!!

co-wrote with @mxilkyways

-------------------------

It was a cool October night in the Hogwarts castle. Sirius, James, Lupin and Peter, who was currently in his animagus form, were cuddled underneath a blanket in front of the gryffindor fireplace. James was splayed in the middle of the couch, while Lupin had his head rested against James' broad shoulder. Sirius was lounged across his boyfriends laps, Remus' fingers running laps through his curly mess. Peter was perched on James' head.

"Jamie your shoulders are so tense, you've got to relax your muscles for the big game on saturday." Remus cooed, lifting his head from his shoulder. Remus moved his nimble fingers to the planes of James' back, eliciting a groan from the boy.

"I know a bit of cardio to get him loosened up" Sirius perked up from beneath the two.

It was late, so the common room was empty. Sirius smirked at his two boyfriends, clearly hinting as to what he was suggesting. In the silence that followed, electricity began to spark as Remus' quick hands pressed along James' chest, down to the hem of his shirt. James' breathing stopped.

Sirius sat up from his horizontal position and slowly moved to sit at James' side, resting his hand on his neck, applying pressure before reaching up through his thick curls to pick up Peter, who let out a tiny, but ever so cute squeak as he transferred him to the arm of the couch. Peter knew he could never participate, only watch.

As Remus moved to straddle James' lap, a groan from the portrait hole sounded, however it failed to capture the attention of the three boys who were too caught up in the heat of the moment. Slim, pale fingers grasped the edge of the portrait, prying it open, however the body suddenly stopped at the sight in front.

Remus was now kissing James' neck eagerly, feeling along his shoulders and arms as they relaxed. Sirius had one of Remus' hands in his grasp and was slowly leaving a trail of kisses up his arm, lifting his sleeve. After his momentary state of shock, Regulus swiftly made his way over to the couch, standing before them.

"Well well well, didn't think to invite me huh?" He said coyly, arms crossed.

"Reggie, what are you doing bro?" Sirius gasped, Remus hand slipping from his lustful grasp. The two other boys heard the mumble of words behind them, registering them to be Regulus however their minds were in too much of a haze to care. James cupped Sirius' chin and dragged his face so they locked eyes, "please Siri, i need you" he pleaded, moving his hand to his groin and exposing just how badly he needed him.

Sirius eyes rolled back, a failed attempt a hiding a moan tumbled from his lips which he had sucked between his teeth. He could no longer hold back. As his mouth moved to the nape of Lupin's neck, his eyes remained locked on Reggie. The scene caused a hot flush to run through the younger Black. Almost instinctively his own palm moved over the tent in his pants, mimicking the movement between the three marauders.

At the sight of him, Sirius grabbed ahold of Reggie's other hand and pulled him into the group, as they all quickly began to remove each other's layers of clothing. They were a mess of limbs on top of each other, as Regulus crawled back to the edge of the couch, where he sat, silently begging for his older brother to join him. Instead, Remus came to tend to him, as Sirius was busy exploring James' newly exposed muscles. Just as Remus towered over him, Reggie's breath was caught. Remus began eagerly exploring his body, travelling lower before his hand aggressively grasped the part of Regulus that was begging for attention. As he quickly tugged, Reggie cried out in pleasure, which then turned to a cry of embarrassment as Remy the rat emerged from his pubes, just as if he was underneath Linguini's hat. As Remus moved back, eyes wide in shock, the rat moved up to sit on Regulus' stomach.

"Did I cook or what?" Laughed Remy, flipping a wooden spoon in his tiny paw.

A small scream erupted from Lupin at the sudden visitor which caught the attention of both James and Sirius. At the sight of Remy, Sirius chuckled.

"Hell yeah you did lil bro!" Sirius dapped up Remy before enclosing his small body in his fist and placing his plush lips around the furry body, sucking on him with great vigour. Remy was reborn from Sirius' mouth with pop, now sopping wet. Sirius then moved toward him again and enveloped the front of the rat in a passionate lick, before throwing him against the wall with all the hate he could muster. Remy hit the wall with a wheeze that resembled a squeaky toy, before collapsing on the ground in a small, soppy heap on the floor.

"What in gods name did you do?!" Reggie cried.

"What? I was done with him. Tasted good though." Sirius muttered nonchalantly.

"Sirius that was kinda fudged up." James said, staring at the small lump with slight indifference along with the others.

At that moment the boys heard the vicious roar of an engine in the distance, before a miniature fluorescent green quadbike broke through the portrait door, leaving a gaping hole, similar to Reggie's that still yearned for a filling. It roared across the floor and did a few donuts before coming to a screaming halt near the soaking wet lump. As the motion slowed, the boys recognised the daring driver as Stuart Little. He hopped out and went to pick up his old friend, wordless. The domestic mouse hurled the unconscious cook in the back of his car, before the engine roared to life and he sped off, a little too fast.

On the road up ahead Chicken Little slowly trudged across the road, disappointed from his recent loss in baseball which resulted in a beating from his dad. Sirius and Regulus knew the feeling. As Stuart saw him, he couldn't hit the brakes in time, instead hitting the depressed chicken full force.

Chicken Little exploded into minced meat, his feathers and limbs spraying the walls with his remains.

His intestines had slid down both the rats throats, which spurred the unconscious one to life. They both immediately began to gag, which the boys on the couch liked. Remus quickly ran into action, using a spell to pull the intestines back up their throats. After that shock the rats could finally look at the scene.

Peter took this chance to finally run wild with his pack. Using Sirius’ head as a leaping pad, he launched off to catapult himself into the back of the quad bike.

“Sayonara bitches!”

Stuart Little panicked - he couldn't go back to prison, not after what he did to Snowbell - so instead, he sped off with Remy's unconscious body.

Now, as the crime scene lay abandoned, a singular foot of Chicken Littles rested by the portrait of the common room. Suddenly a big beefy hand reached down and grabbed the foot.

"Aye, free KFC. Who would leave this laying around?" The sexy southern accent cooed. "Winky! Carry this foot for me, you useless elf"

"Yes master Cooper" Winky cried.

The three marauders watched in shock at the events that just unfolded in front of them. Mr Cooper and Winky trudged past, paying them no mind. Sirius turned to gawk at Regulus and his 2 boyfriends, however instead of finding them in disbelief - he noticed they were still turned on.

Mr Cooper went and settled himself on one of the plush armchairs, as Winky assumed her position on the floor. After a moment of stunned silence, the legend spoke.

"You guys got any brisket?" He enquired, turning to the boys, paying no mind to the state of them.

"N-no, sir." Remus said, who was then distracted by James pawing at him, wishing to continue what they started.

"MOMMY!" James cried after his attempts at mumbling were unsucessful. He whined and whined for his mommy but his daddy Lupin told him he had to wait and could not touch himself or he would be very mad. A sigh escaped George.

"Give him what he wants, just shut that runt up, or i'll do it myself."

A beat passed.

"C- can you?" James nervously enquired.

"Course pal. Winky, hold my clothes."

The boys on the couch were shocked. Were they about to be pleasured by George Cooper himself? This night couldn't get any better.

Mr. Cooper undressed before them in a sultry manner, chucking his clothes at the tiny elf with full force, causing her to stumble into the fireplace. Instead of burning normally, slowly and crisply, she burnt like an animal dying in minecraft would- turned red and swiftly turned horizontal.

George payed no mind- he had special intentions for his boys.

He slowly made his way over, locking eyes with James, who returned a pleading gaze. George grabbed James' neck suddenly and began to choke him. James revelled in the sensation, as the other boys went to touch Mr. Cooper.

"Aye there skippers! Hold your horses." He scolded, eliciting embarrassed looks from the boys, except for James, who was enamoured by George's power.

James was the first to get the George Cooper treatment. He took them each in turn, bringing them to euphoric heights. As so much time had passed, the boys forgot all about the ratscapade, except for Remus, who reminded himself and was sure there was nothing but pleasure in store for the remainder of this evening. George let them all snuggle up around his manspread on the couch, as they gave Mr. Cooper some very special treatment.

Reggie sat on the far end of the group next to Sirius. As Reggie sat there, on cloud 9 after his experience with Mr. Cooper, he still yearned for his big bro.

"Daddy what about me?" Mega sub Reggie whispered to his dom older brother Siri.

Sirius turned to look at him, his gaze suddenly softening at his brother's vulnerable state.

"I'm sorry my little boy, let me make it up to you." He said, smirking slightly as the sentence concluded.

As Sirius moved to straddle his brother's lap, a loud noise rung out from behind him.

"Meow."

They all froze.

"Meow meow. Meow meow meow."

"What the fuck." Remus said. As they all turned to him, they saw he was staring wide eyed at a spot on the floor, turning to it, they all gazed upon non other than Cat Snape.

“Professor Snape?” James asked, his eyebrows raised in disbelief. The four boys and George Cooper all moved to sit around cat Snape in a circle.

“Meow”

“Theres no way professor Snape is sat in front of us as a cat right now” Lupin gawked. How had this happened? Only earlier today had he seen Snape in potions and he was neither small nor furry. Nonetheless, Lupin had to admit to himself how kawaii the Slytherin house leader looked in his fursona. Before he could voice his thoughts, another broke the silence -

“I- I hate to say it but sensei Snape looks so cutesy, i just wanna stroke him” Regulus pouted. One by one the other boys all nodded in agreement.

“Well boys, you cant leave him waiting - give em a pet” George instructed. Sirius’ fingers glided over the soft black fur of Cat Snapes backside, the sensation posing a memorable contrast to that of Reggies coarse pubic hair. Sirius’ eyes met Regulus’ from across the circle - his lips torn between his teeth as he squirmed and palmed himself waiting to resume what had started with his brother.

Sirius had forgotten he was stroking Cat Snape until a noise rang through the tense and humid air which sounded like a pur? All the boys’ attention snapped down to the little creature, who seemed to have no different than an expression of hate on its face yet the soft kneading of its paws on the rugs below said otherwise.

“Load me up boys” the silence was broken by the heaving of Mr Cooper who waddled his way to the couch, promptly throwing his round and voluptuous belly onto the cushions.

Quickly understanding, Remus gently coddled Cat Snape and moved him to rest on Mr Coopers back. As soon as the professor made contact, George let out a pornographic moan. The sound had goosebumps arise on the marauders and Reggies skin, their palms becoming clammy and blood rushing downwards.

However, before they could react a loud bang came from a nearby window as it crashed open, smashing into shards against the brick wall. Through the darkness of the night, a predatory shadow emerged - highlighted by the glow of the moon.

The shadow slowly stalked towards the boys and Cat Snape, light from the fire capturing the long, sharp fangs cascading from its lips. Just as it seemed the boys were about to be jumped, a smaller shadow appeared on the back of the predator.

“Good Kitty Diego. Obey daddy Buck and let me handle this”

Sliding down the back of Diego, Buck landed onto a spring-pad which launched him up towards the chandelier hanging from the common room ceiling. His small nimble fingers grasped the metal, the momentum flipping his slim body around the light.

The room watched in awe as Buck, on his fifth flip sent his body towards Remus. With expertise, Buck grabbed onto the hard rod of Lupins peeny, completing another 2 flips before sticking a landing onto the plush rug. The boys watched in awe, dumbstruck.

“MAN that was some pretty dope moved little guy!” James said enthusiastically, reaching for Buck. Before he could grasp him George snatched Buck, causing him to wheeze like a squeaky toy and deflate as George bit down on his arm, ripping it off.

“Tastes just like chicken!” He moaned, nibbling for more.

At that moment Diego growled in a husky tone, prowling towards the group in a sultry manner, before arching his back in a stretch and laying down, paws crossed.

“Thank fuck that idiots dead.” He said, shutting his eyes peacefully as the boys came over to suggestively stroke him.

At that moment, another different window shattered. The noise caused the group to turn, and their eyes lay on a whimsical sight. Gingy stood proudly, with both hands on his hips overlooking the group. He had the three blind mice on individual leashes in front of him.

For a moment it looked like Gingy was leading them like dogs, however as the moon passed by the window it became clear to what was really happening. While the three blind mice where in fact on leashes, they were aggressively giving head to Gingy whose pornographic squeals filled the air.

“No, not the buttons. Not my gumdrop buttons!” he mewled as hot frosting shot from his gingerbread stick. Instinctively, Gingys hands tightened around the leash, causing the collars on his mice to tighten and choke them. Their small paws gripped at Gingys, crumbs cascading around them.

“Oh! The muffin Man!” Gingy sighed, his sweetened liquids coating the window sill and dripping down the walls. The marauders and George all watched in their grow hardened states. George almost immediately after, combusted. Hot grease shot from his hands, landing on his hairy chest. He thought he better save that for MeeMaws meatloaf later.

Sirius, Remus, James and Reggie had all gathered into a circle, their hands stroking anything they could grasp in their hazy states. Harmoniously, they finished in a heaping pile of white, their pants and moans coating the already damp and heated space. As they coated themselves in their ecstasy, the full moon cast through the shattered windows, catching young Remus’ eye. He began to transform, causing all of the boys to scramble backwards.

“What the Sigma. I am a fucking cat.”

Remus stretched out, his fair skin replaced with grey fur, his big nose stretching out into a slender snout. He howled, causing the castle walls to shake. Sirius immediately turned into his dog form, and at that moment another dog appeared out of thin air at his side. It was Dog Snape. He was a black Scottish Terrier, sporting the sexy face of Snape. He and Sirius made eye contact, before Dog Snape opened his trapper.

“Woof woof. Woof woof woof. Give me a bone.” He simply stated in a monotone manner. In that instant he was presented with several bones, from James, Reggie and George.

Sirius dismissed the thing, lunging at Remus full force. They entangled themselves in a brawl, with everyone watching. Dog Snape became referee, donned in a black and white striped shirt and whistle. Cat Snape then appeared in a red shirt hastily providing the dog sips of water.

James and Reggie took this prime opportunity to focus on each other, giving each other side eyes and smirks. James grabbed his wrist and pulled him against the wall, pinning Reggie’s wrists above his head, before licking his front. He then knelt before him, grabbing his knees and bonking his head on them as hard as possible. Gingy then attacked him, screaming “Look at me! Don’t do this to yourself! Please! Stop! For me!?” He said, eyes exploring James’. James’ face softened.

“Anything you say angel.” He replied. Regulus was completely forgotten. A bit similar to his home life.

As this unfolded, All the animals were still engaging in a fight. Sirius had called for time out, and the fighters were on either side of the boxing ring, the three blind mice stroking his fur, whilst Diego, who had lost all of his fur in the fireplace, was screaming shrilly at Remus.

“Get your fucking act together you useless half-breed, or i’ll cull each and every one of you bastards!”

George payed them all no kind as he savoured every morsel of raw, alive Buck’s body, using his leaf eye patch as a napkin.

Time out ended, and the brawl resumed. The fight was weak, with very poor effort. Mr.Cooper had to intervene. He grabbed Sirius by the scruff of his neck, straddling him and grabbing onto the handles. He cracked his whip to his side, then said in the most godlike tone possible, glaring daggers at Remus and Diego;

“Stop on them runts.”

As Sirius and George began to charge, suddenly an earth shattering boom silenced the room. The air became so silent, you could hear a pin drop. Then, from the centre of the common room, a section of the floor began to lower, rays of spotlights and laser beams seeping through the cracks.

After a minute of silence, the floor began to raise back up, the soft hum of a speaker flowing into the space.

What? What? What? What?

As the platform raised to its full height again, it was now accompanied by the silhouette of a tall man.

“I'll wear your granddad's clothes. I look incredible. I'm in this big-ass coat. From that thrift shop down the road” The mystery figure lowly spoke, his voice mirrored through the speakers that had appeared around the boys.

Through the artificial fog, dark stage lights and coloured lasers, the man in the fur coat and deco stayed in gold jewellery could only be none other than-

“Macklemore.” Reggie said softly, forgetting all about himself being the runt of the litter in all aspects of his life. George hadn’t said it straight to his face, but as Sirius was giving him head earlier, he locked eyes with George who was beneath James, and silently mouthed ‘runt’.

The other boys looked at him, then back at the man who stepped through the fog.

“I am going to pop some tags. ‘ve only got twenty bucks in me pocket though is tha’ a’right?” He said to them through his microphone.

“Fart Bomb!” Macklemore laughed before ripping the biggest stinker. It may have been silent but boy was it deadly, all the boys, including dog snape, cat snape, Gingy, Diego, Gingy and the three blind mice all dropped to the floor in a heap of naked, sweaty bodies.

Macklemore cackled, he had finally achieved his life long mission. Scooping up the Snape variants, he whispered quietly.

“Gonna put you puppies in the incubator at Stark Industries.”

Chuckling darkly, he kicked Remus’ unconscious wolf form with all the hate in the world.

“Fucking half-breeds.” He muttered, before escaping sneakily though both the shattered windows, splitting himself in half to do so, then merging back together as the flew away into the sunrise.

------

The next morning, the four boys awoke in their dormitory somehow, their beds pushed together as per usual. James woke first, snug tight in between Remus who was behind him, and Sirius who layed on his chest. Peter, who made his way back to the dorm after a wild night of rat frat parties, still in his rat form, was curled up on the pillow. James waited as the others came to, and they layed there in silence for a while, until James broke it.

"Last night was a movie huh guys?"

“Bazinga!”

Bazinga father was always watching.

17 notes · View notes

raccoonscribbles · 2 years ago

Text

Yandere Peter Pettigrew

“I say you let me go and I don’t do anything,” Y/n said.

“Not how it works darling,” Peter chuckled, “I found you, I get you. I do whatever I want to you.”

“Peter?” She muttered, “It sounds like you.”

Her blindfold seemed to be useless now, the ropes still held her back.

“Let go of me! Why would you tie me up like this!?”

“Oh, I didn’t tie you up like this,” Peter undid her blindfold, she blinked at him, adjusting to the light.

“Then who did?” She whined.

“someone else you might know, a black perhaps..”

“Regulus?”

“Well, I would never do that to you! I love you too much!” He hugged her, kissing her face all over.

#Tw ropes #Tw blind #Tw blindfold #Tw love bombing #Tw gas lighting #Peter pettigrew #harry Potter #peter pettigrew x reader #harry potter x reader #marauders #marauders era #x readef #Tw yandere #not Proofread #Yandere Peter pettigrew #Yandere x reader #yandere Peter pettigrew x reader #yandere marauders

66 notes · View notes

bobardo · 1 year ago

Note

Hi e! CYLWJAT pt. 2 teeny crumb???

<33

ofc bubbles <33

SNEAKY PEEKY AHEAD 😋😋🥸

#evelyn speaks #she’s coming along #slowly but surely…#kinda goin i’m blind w this one #wish me luck 🤞🏽🤞🏽#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles smut #ceo!harry #SNEAKY #SNEAKY PEEKY

8 notes · View notes

andillneverbethesame · 2 years ago

Text

𝒅𝒓𝒆𝒔𝒔.

❥ pairings: fred weasley x fem!gryffindor!reader

❥ summary: "i don't want you like a best friend, only bought this dress so you could take it off"

❥ warnings: underage drinking.... nothing much really

❥ word count: 1,4k

❥ a/n: based off the horniest song blondie could ever write, dress.

requested by @stevies-sweetie , hope u enjoy it. tysm for the request!!!

you looked into the mirror at yourself as angelina was finishing your hair and did a couple of changes in your make up. when she was done, you stood up to check the dress that you had bought in hogsmeade, and definitely not because george told you fred was going to wear a suit of the very similar colour.

"you look hot," your friend katie commented. "fred's going to drool when he sees you."

you rolled your eyes but the thought made blood rush into your cheeks.

"well," you sighed, "in case you have forgotten, me and fred aren't going together. i'm going with peter kerridge."

angelina scoffed. "can't believe you said yes to him. he's a complete jerk."

"well, nobody else has asked me. especially not fred," you said deffensively.

"i don't understand why, though," katie frowned. "even a blind person would be able to tell he likes you."

"apparently not," you retorted, enough with the topic of fred. it suddenly hit you how crazy it was to buy wine coloured dress just to match fred. he will probably be busy with his date to even spare you a glance and notice it.

with a sigh and a last look in the mirror, you made your way out of the dorm into the common room.

fred was already there, talking to his brother. just as george told you, the boy you fancied was truly wearing wine-coloured suit and you had to stop yourself from staring because, god, he looked so beautiful.

fred turned around just in time to see you walking down the stairs. his mouth slightly opened as his eyes scanned you up and down.

"you look so divine," he breathed out, reaching for your hand.

you blinked. "me?"

he chuckled. "yes. who else?"

just then, fred looked behind you, drawing his hand back. you turned around to see fred's date. she was very pretty though you hated to admit that. however, her dark blue dress didn't match fred's suit.

jealousy pulsed through your veins at the sight of them intertwining her arms and you looked away, deciding that it was time to meet peter in front of the entrance to the common room.

he looked handsome, peter, i mean. he wasn't bad looking at all, no. a lot of girls wished to be in your shoes at that very moment but your heart didn't pick up its pace when you locked your arms together or when he said you looked beautiful or when he held your waist as you two danced. you could only pretend that he was fred.

speaking of him, fred seemed to have far more fun than you. laughing with his date, george and angelina as you were sulking in chair while peter was getting you drinks.

angelina was right, peter was a complete jerk, talking about himself the whole night while you were only pretending to listen to whatever he was talking about and glancing over at fred across the whole great hall.

when peter approached you with the drinks, you chugged the whole glass in one go. your date stared at you wide-eyed before chuckling and asking if you want to dance again.

you shook your head but he kept bugging you, saying how boring you are and how he thought it was going to be more fun and how he then, standing there in front of you while the alcohol started doing its' job on you, wished he asked the girl that went with fred instead.

you scoffed and rolled your eyes so much that it hurt.

"of course! everybody wants to go with (name)!"

you crossed your arms on your chest and let out a sigh of relief when peter finally left you alone.

harry and ron joined you shortly after. they, just like you, weren't enjoying the night like everyone else. harry was in very similar situation like you, after all. he wanted to go with cho chang who went with cedric diggory and so, the boy spent the entire night glaring in his direction.

few minutes and about thousands of alcohol-filled glasses later, you started to feel your head spin. you were almost certain that if you tried to stood up and walk somewhere, you would most likely fall.

you were so lost in thoughts, staring at your lap and feet that you didn't notice fred approaching you. it was only when he tapped your shoulder that you glanced up at him.

fred didn't take that personally though as he sat down next to you, grinning from ear to ear. "hi."

you raised an eyebrow and blinked drunkely. "yes?" you asked, sounding more rudely than you intended to.

"hi?"

"how are you?"

you scoffed as if it wasn't obvious from your mood. "perfectly fine."

"mhm, yeah, i can see that." he then stood up and handed you his hand. "would you like to dance with me?"

you shrugged, hoping to hide the blush on your cheeks as you stood up and he took your hand into his.

as he dragged you to the dance floor though, you tripped over your feet and you would fall to the ground if fred didn't catch you in time.

he chuckled and said, "alright, dancing might not be the best for you right now," he paused as you placed your head on his shoulder, eyes dropping. "oh, no, love, don't you fall asleep on me. let's get you to your dorm, yeah?"

you hummed and fred lead you out of the great hall up the staircase which was quite difficult for you to walk up. fred would lie if he said if he didn't find you hilarious and absolutely adorable at that moment. but he always did.

"don't you think we'd be in your dorm faster if i gave you a piggyback ride?" he asked.

you nodded and fred bent in his knees so you could get on his back. you wrapped your arms around his neck and leaned your head against his, breathing in his hair shampoo that you loved so much.

you almost fell asleep by the time you arrived in your dorm but once you did, fred sat you down on his bed and carefully took off your heels.

"did you have fun tonight?" fred questioned, tried to keep you awake.

you pouted. "no," you hiccupped. "peter's a dick."

he smiled. "but you knew that when he asked you. why did you go with him?"

"cause you didn't ask me," you said, making fred freeze, glancing up at you.

"we-well," he stuttered, "i didn't know if you'd say yes. you're my best friend. . ."

"you're mine, too," you shrugged and bit your lip. "but maybe i don't want you like a best friend."

fred shook his head. "you have no idea what you're saying, y/n." your heels were off and so he stood up and you did too. you reached to your back for the zipper of your dress and even though you could reach it perfectly, you had an idea.

he was so close to you with his hands now on your almost bare shoulders and you could feel his hot breath on your neck and back. you shuddered but he didn't pull away. you turned around to face him and bumped your nose with his before connecting your lips together.

"could you help me?" you whispered and the good friend freddie was, he nodded and pulled the zipper down.

you really wanted to go further, but fred pushed you away, causing your eyes to widen as you thought, oh no what did i do?

"oh, love, no," he tucked a string of your hair behind your ear before taking your face into his hands, thumbs wiping the tears that fell from your eyes. "i'd love to continue this, but you're so drunk and i'm quite sober. i don't want to take advantage of you."

"you wouldn't," you mumbled and let the straps of your dress fall from your shoulders. fred's cheeks turned redder than his hair at the sight of your bare chest. he turned around to give you privacy and you grinned. "don't worry. i only bought this dress so you could take it off, anyway."

that night was the beginning of something magical.

#harry potter #harry potter imagine #harry potter angst #harry potter x reader #harry potter smut #harry potter fluff #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley angst #fred weasley fluff #fred weasley smut

4K notes · View notes

unconventional-lawnchair · 6 months ago

Text

" But daddy, I love him "

Mattheo Riddle x Fem!Potter!Reader

Masterlist

Part 2

Summary: Harry finds out his sister is dating Mattheo Riddle Ft. James, Lily, Remus, Sirius - No war au }

Wc- 5178

Cw: Use of {Y/N}, a lot of people saying a lot of mean things, sexual themes cussing}

A/n: Possible part 2 later

Mattheo Riddle had a reputation for himself. Everyone knew him bloodied before they'd seen him presentable. A Hotwire, fizzling and popping, just waiting for the next person to cross him in a way he deemed punishable, ‘the muggle way.’

He never truly had a distaste for muggles or muggleborns, but they stayed clear of him regardless. Voldemort's son was like a cautionary tale told through the halls, of just how ruthless and unhinged death eaters could be. His mother, Beatrix Lestrange, in Azkaban for life for such cruelties, his father had a name no one dared to say. That left very little to the imagination, or maybe just too much?

Another thing about Mattheo Riddle, he never said what he was thinking, he only acted. So no one knew the true boy outside of his blinding rage, insatiable flirting and the horrid legacy his parents so carefully wove for him. No one, aside from you.

It wasn't supposed to be this way, truly, it was just an assignment.

“I have a student, he is failing in my class, but I know he has so much potential to do better.” McGonagall began. “If you tutor him, I will give you credits towards one of your less favorable classes.”

Was it bribery? Yes, was it technically against school policy? Most definitely. Were you going to say no to free credits for the history of magic? Absolutely not.

You should have been clued in, when she didn't tell you who you were tutoring, but like your father and brother, your eye was on the prize. Instead of a snitch, however, yours were the new napping opportunities in your least favorite subject.

You were told by the professor that the study sessions would take place during dinner, and you were allowed to request food from the house elves before or after the meetings. You had to wonder; why was this student getting all these special treatments? And what did you have to do with it? Imagine your surprise when you walked into the library when dinner was taking place, only for your eyes to land on the candle lit silhouette of Mattheo Riddle himself.

You knew him, of course you did, his father had tried to kill your entire family, while you didn't endure the worst of it, Merlin, you were still in your mothers stomach at the time, your fathers horror stories of the DeathEaters and the recounting of the night was so etched into your brain you could likely recall it as if you stood in that room. The day your father saved the wizarding world, by simply, picking up his wand from the couch when he opened the door.

Despite it all, you tried not to judge him by the actions of his father, so that the only thing you had left were the numerous bloodied fights he'd been a part of since he walked through the doors of Hogwarts. Not to mention the amount of broken hearted witches that clung to his heels.

Though, now, as you stared at him across the empty Library, he seemed so… peaceful. Calm and reserved, maybe it was the yellow light, or maybe it was the way he seemed to be genuinely enraptured by whatever he was reading. Sitting patiently, just waiting. Waiting for you. You quickly snapped out of your daze, walking forward to stand in front of him.

Mattheo lazily glanced up before his eyes widened slightly and his mouth opened a bit in slack shock. “Potter.”

“Riddle.” You acknowledged him. He didn't seem offended or bothered by your presence, more, confused. There was an easy silence between you two before you gestured to the seat beside him. “May I?”

“... be my guest.”

That's where it all started. Mattheo was nothing like who you thought he'd be. He was respectful, kind, studious and incredibly clever. You had to admit, Minerva was right, he had incredible potential beyond what he seemed to think of himself. He just needed time to sit down and work, instead of his usual activities, and whatever impression he was trying to make for himself.

Your meetings were frequent, and his grades started to improve. As you got closer, the change in his behavior in class was the first thing you noticed. He began to actually work in potions, probably the only class you shared being a year younger and a Griffondor. You heard from Harry that he had actually scored higher than most of their shared class in Transfiguration. Though, it was a comment out of malice, you couldn't deny how it made you preen with pride.

In the halls you were strangers, but in your personal nook of the library, you were a deadly dynamic. He was a flirt, you knew that before, but he never said the raunchy things he'd say to the girls in the halls he'd flirt with, to you. The occasional comment on your eyes or your calligraphy, maybe some that toed the line of platonic study buddies. You figured that was how he showed affection, but you had no real reference point for it.

If it was another thing that you knew about Mattheo that not many others knew, it was that he adored praise. All forms of it. He would get bashful and try to hide away from it, but you would see how much harder he tried to impress you everytime. You found it amusing, you would hear the teachers praise him and he'd simply shrug it off, trying to play it cool. But in those private moments between.. friends, when you were revising his essay, with mutters of, “That's a spectacular way to look at it, Riddle.”

And

“That's brilliant. You're brilliant.”

He would turn as red as a tomato. It made you smile. This was the version of him no one else could or ever would have. It made you cocky, it made you want more of the secret Mattheo, the one he only showed to the closest people.

You had gotten so used to Mattheo’s presence. He had stayed out of trouble, been doing wonderfully in his classes, and he still insisted on your study dates. Said they were the only thing keeping him interested in the classes he took. Ever the flirt.

You guessed being used to Mattheo Riddle of all people was the first part to an awful downward spiral. You had fallen for him. Hard.

You first noticed when he had to cancel one of your meetings. He was passing you in the hall, two Prefects had him by his forearms, and Snape was rattling on about a proper punishment for him. He had a cut lip and a gnarly battered nose. You were on your way to the library to meet, but when you made eye contact with him you visibly deflated. He had that stupid cocky look on his face, teeth stained red as he winked at a few girls he passed, focusing on anything but Snape’s words.

When his eyes met yours, however, his lips twitched and his eyes lost their twinkle. Like a puppy being told no. Or properly, a boy ashamed. And he should feel ashamed.

You had forgotten who he was when you weren't buried in your books. So for the first time in weeks, you were at the Gryffindor dining table, across from Ginny and Seamus, poking at your food in disinterest. Surrounded by friends and family, and yet so incredibly lonely. Ginny eventually caved to your moping, looking over with a loud click of her tongue.

“{Y/N}?” She called over and your eyes flicked up and an easy smile took over your face. “Ginny?”

“It's good to see you, you've been avoiding the dining hall for a while now.” She teased and leaned her legs forward to lock her ankles around one of yours to keep you in place. You couldn't help but give a cheeky grin at this.

“Well, I would argue anything is better than being forced to watch you make heart eyes at my brother.” You shot back and Harry looked up from his plate curious, met with the view of you being smacked in the face with a bun.

“Hey!” You challenged and grabbed your own bun before you heard your head of house clear her throat behind you. Slowly, you set down the bread and looked back at her as she gave you a quizzing look. Clearly confused by you being there, asking with her eyes. Not even having noticed the gluten assault.

“Rain check.” You remarked and shrugged before she let out a simple ‘ah’ and walked off. This just set off Ginny’s and now Harry’s curiosity.

“What was all that? Thought you were meeting a boy, if I'm honest, now I'm not sure.” Ron mumbled and Harry tilted his head at you.

“Ew, don't say that, that's my baby sister.” Harry huffed and looked over at you. His expression said it all. “What have you been getting up to?”

You stared at him before slowly smirking, leaning your chin on your palm. “Huh, well, me and Ginny are the same age-”

Then, another bun, to your face, courtesy of your brother. “That's enough out of you.” He huffed.

That's how you got here. Sitting in the forbidden woods, trying to demonstrate to Mattheo how to use a patronus, something your parents showed you when you were younger. Your study rendezvous has long since become time to study more than just your core classes. No one else was around, just you two, while everyone else was hidden away in the grand hall eating.

“So, firstly, this is a spell that most wizards and witches cannot use. So don't be afraid if you never come to pass.” You explained and he rolled his eyes playfully.

“Right, if I'm not past the level you were at as a toddler, end my misery early.” He teased and you gave a playful scoff and crossed your arms. “Not a toddler, just 12.”

He rolled his eyes with his own smirk playing on his lips. You found yourself staring at the peak of his teeth, threw his lips, you felt your entire body respond in kind. “To be fair, you don't need to feel self conscious, I mean, I am leagues above you, even now.”

He gave an offended gasp and put his hand on his chest. His smirk turned wolfish as he walked up to your side. “Is that a challenge, Potter?”

“Define a challenge, I usually just call it confidence.” You quipped and he gave you a once over, you rolled your eyes fondly.

“Okay, minx, I get three tries. If I summon my patronus, you have to go to Hogsmeade with me this Sunday.” He mused and leaned into your space. You smirked and stood taller, wetting your lips before you glanced from his eyes to his lips then back. “Let's hope you prove me wrong then, Riddle.”

He did not. Prove you wrong, that is.

Once you told Riddle about the happy memory clause, he seemed less confident. He wasn't even able to produce sparks, and got increasingly agitated with each failure. Usually, he would pull out a smoke and take a break, and you were curious as to why he didn't.

Every other day before you grew close, you would spy him smoking with his friends in the courtyard, but when you mentioned you hated the smell in the library, he started to hold off until after to smoke.

At least, that's what he told you. He would not tell you the truth, that the moment you told him you hated the smell he chucked the last box he had into the black lake.

Mattheo went through his life without any real care. He only ever experienced fear, anger, and disappointment directed at him. He had his friends, Draco, Theodore, Pansy, even Blaise but none of them were particularly affectionate. Past his playful flirting with Pansy, that he now used as a reference for your friendship, he didn't truly have positive influences on his emotions.

Usually, that would result in him using a poor girl or two to get over whatever he was hung up on. Then, he met you.

Out of everyone, he figured you had reason to hate him most. His father tried to kill your family, his mother killed your parents' friends, his current friends bullied your brother, and he was assumed a death eater before proven one. But that night, he was proven wrong for the first time, when you sat down next to him and smiled. He had never seen something so breathtaking, something that was meant for him.

He had felt for women before, physical and emotional, but never had he experienced you. In all honesty, he never truly looked at you before. You were Harry Potter’s sister, that was enough reason to stay away. Merlin, did he fuck up.

Being friends with you was hardly acceptable, but falling for you? It made him feel all the more pathetic. Knowing he was falling for someone who would never think of dating him. Here he was, making the worst mistakes of his life over and over again.

“Don't get in your head about it.” Your voice called him from his thoughts. He snapped out of it and looked at you. You tilted your head and smiled, hands on your hips in determination. You had taken off your robe, as if to say you meant business. Sleeves rolled up to your elbows and wand brandished. “Just think about something that makes you happy. Happy enough to smile at nothing.”

“Smile at nothing?” He muttered in an amused tone. Breathing you in like fresh air.

“At. Nothing.” You insisted and waved your wand. “My memory is when my dad took me to visit my grandparents' graves.” You hummed and he gave a startled laugh.

“Morbid, darling.”

“Oh, not like that.” You laughed. “I listened to my dad talk about them, like, all the time. Mum too.”

You gestured to the pond and his eyes followed yours. “My dad made it easy, it felt like I was really meeting them, ya know? He talked about me and Harry like we were the most important things in his life. I think I felt his love for them in me too, but towards him. I just felt so lucky.”

Mattheo stared at your awe filled eyes and he gave a small sigh through his nose. It was out of fondness, of course, but he couldn't deny the bit of jealousy that perked up in his chest when she said that. “Yeah.. lucky.” He mumbled.

You looked back at him and your face fell a bit. You had just spent the last two minutes rubbing your fathers love in his face- Merlin. You slowly gave a cautious smile, considering he was still staring at you like you hung the stars. It maked your ears grow hot and your nerves light up.

You reached over to graze his hand, and he seemed to snap out of his trance, slowly, he wrapped his hand around yours, his calloused fingers covering your hand fully. You guys sat like that for a moment, before you raised your wand higher and stepped closer. Leaning your head against his chest and waving it.

Your patronus whipped out of your wand, the fox wiggling its nose in greeting before she ran around you two in circles. You began to laugh at her enthusiasm, and Mattheo even gave a chuckle. Your eyes on your patronus, his eyes on you. How was he going to win anyway? He was making his happiest memories now.

“I think I can try again.” He whispered and you looked up at him, your patronus vanishing behind you as you lost your focus. He was giving you a look you had never seen before, it was almost dangerous, how easy it was for him to make a mess of you.

“You think?” You couldn’t bring yourself to say anything above a whisper. He pulled you flush against him, taking the dazed look you were giving him as confirmation. You wanted him too. He could have fainted.

“Want to help me?”

“How?”

You got your answer, in the form of his lips pressing so gently against yours. It was electric, your entire face grew hot and you forgot how to breathe for a moment. His hands found a firmer grip on your waist and you slowly wrapped your arms around his neck. You lost yourself in the kiss, letting him lead as he clearly had more experience.

Mattheo couldn't help it, maybe this wouldn't be a mistake. Maybe it was only fair. Being with you made him feel human, like just another boy falling for just another girl. He wanted to feel like this forever. Normal, with you.

He did not try again that night, far too distracted.

You met him like that several more times, dinner study bled into evenings, innocent touches became intimate, and bold teases became hushed whispers in his dorm room. The very dorm room you were coming back from now. Walking back just after curfew.

When you made it back to the common room the first thing you noticed was your own reflection, your hair was frazzled and your uniform was creased. You found yourself wondering how all of that could happen from just a kiss. Followed by a few more. And then some more,, you could completely understand how it happened, actually. You’ll remember it forever.

Once you fixed your appearance, the second thing you noticed was Harry sitting on the couch with a parchment on his lap, next to him was a nervous Ron and a shockingly ridgid Hermione. Harry’s eyes were on you, Ron’s was on his hands, and Hermione was faking reading a book. You pause before you made it to the stairs, slowly walking over to the three. “Hey you guys! What are we up to?”

“Nothing, just been waiting a few hours.” Harry snarked and you narrowed your eyes in confusion. Suddenly you remembered, you had agreed to meet the trio out for Quidditch practice, they had managed to just get enough people for two full teams, guilt filled your chest.

“Shoot, Harry I am so-” Before you could even start to grovel he stood up and Hermione sighed, Ron quickly speaking up.

“Where were you?” Harry demanded.

“Come on, Harry.” Ron tried to interrupt. “At least not in the common room.”

“What?” You whispered and Harry shoved the parchment in your hands. It wasn't just any piece of paper, it was the map. Your fathers map.

Your jaw went slack and you looked up at Harry, Your guilt was quickly overturned by anger. “Were you stalking me!?” You exclaimed and thanked Merlin the common room was empty this late.

“I thought something had happened! Don't deflect! Where were you?!”

“None of your business you slime!”

“You come out of the Slytherin dorms with Voldemort’s son and it's none of my business?” He whisper hissed, You scoffed.

“Yes, none of your business!” You snapped back and threw the map on the ground. “I don't have to answer to you! And his name is Mattheo!” You hissed back and stepped on the charmed paper, dragging it under your heel. “You’d do best to remember that. I'm not a bloody kid, Harry!”

“You're my sister!” He challenged and you scoffed.

“He's a monster! A Slytherin, his parents are horrid, and our-”

“Do not say another word, Harry.” You threatened as you began to stomp off to your dorm and he huffed. Kneeling down to pick up the parchment and dust it off.

“I’ll make it easy for you.” He called over and you turned to face him with a glare. “You break up with him, or I’ll tell father over the summer.”

Your face fell and your heart stopped. Harry had this look about him, like he didn't want to be doing this, but yet, he was.

“You wouldn’t-” You spoke slowly and Harry sighed.

“Two days.”

Those two days were blissful hell. You weren't going to break up with Mattheo, there was no way in muggle hell you were going to willingly give him up.

You did try to talk to him about it, however, several times. At least to warn him why he may have a war hero Auror setting a bounty on his head soon. Your father was protective, far more than you thought was necessary, but he treated everyone as black or white. Usually, everyone was allowed his love and care, that being said, Voldemort was a sore subject.

You would say you were trying your best, but Mattheo was so… Mattheo. He was hard to talk to. A very… physical person? He would complain about how you would be leaving the school in mere days for summer, followed by you being drowned in kisses and wandering hands.

Merlin two days was not enough. Next thing you knew, you were home, in your room, counting the minutes until your mother called you down for dinner.

You began to bite your nails, scrunching up your face when you bit down too far. You sighed as you heard Lily call you and Harry down.

You walked into the hall to see Harry waiting at the top of the staircase for you. He looked regretful, but stern. “Harry-”

“I’ll give you the chance. To tell them yourself.” He mumbled before he walked down the stairs. You mentally prepared yourself and walked as slow as you could down the stairs. Not noticing as Harry glanced at your neck.

When you walked into the dinning room, your heart dropped. Your mother, father, Uncle Moony, and Uncle Padfoot were all at the table. You cursed and clenched your jaw, Harry stared down at his plate and you sat beside him by Remus. You gave your mom a small thank you as she served you. Sirius and your father were making jokes about their Quidditch days after Harry bragged about their most recent win. You relished in the moment, before all hell broke loose.

You asked your father a question about the story, just trying to seem engaged. He lit up at your interest, turning to face you fully. “Well! When you're a beater, there is this unspoken rule that everyone follows and.. what the bloody hell is that?”

You narrowed your eyes at his sudden tone change. “What?” You whispered as you looked around the table, all eyes were on you. You took a shaken breath and bit your cheek. “I-”

“That's a hickey, dad.” Harry muttered and took a bite of his food. Your face fell and all the blood left it.

“A what!?” He exclaimed and fixed his glasses on his face, you quickly covered your collarbone. Sirius gripped his silverware, hard, taking a steady breath. “How old are ya, hun?” He asked and you snapped your attention to him. Stuttering and stammering for a moment.

“I think the better question is, who did that? It's bloody horrific.” Remus muttered and you stared up at him with wide, horrified eyes. “U-uncle Moony!”

“Boys, calm down. She's 16, and James, we talked about this. Our kids will be dating soon, I mean, Harry has that Ginny girl and you never fuss at him.” Lily tried to defend and James scoffed.

“This is hardly the same! I raised him! I don't know a thing about this boy!”

“Or girl.” Remus smirked and James felt his face fall in shock and you groaned, slowly covering your face.

“Remus.” Lily hissed out. “James.” She warned before Sirius spoke up.

“Fine, fine, it's all fine. I mean, what harm could he do? We've taught her everything she needs to know about the world. Probably some Hufflepuff boy.” He tried to dismiss, and Remus, ever the instigator tonight, spoke up again.

“I'd be shocked if a Hufflepuff did that to my nieces neck.” He mumbled and James began to breathe quicker and heavier.

“Right, right, fine. You're being safe, right?” He asked bluntly and you groaned, melting into your seat. “Please, anything but this conversation right now.”

Lily gave a small fond smile and tutted at the boys. “Well honey, you should invite him over this summer break. I'd love to meet him.” She offered and then Harry gave a laugh. You shot him a look. “Don't you dare.”

“Dare. Very much dare, Harry.” Sirius quipped and Harry looked at you with a pursed lip before he sighed and spoke up. “Don't think you'd want him here is all.”

“Harry.” You warned, Lily sighing. “Harry, you stop that right now.”

“What? I'm just being honest, dad and padfoot hate Slytherins.” He mused plainly, and James dropped his silverware.

Sirius gave a laugh, throwing his head back before it slowly died out as he saw your red face. “No-”

“Why does his house matter?” You scoffed. “Not all Slytherins are the same.”

“Yeah, just so happens that he's just the type dad hates.” Harry muttered before he took a sip of water. “Happens to be one he particularly-”

“Harry James Potter!” Lily shouted at him and he had enough sense to seem guilty. He looked down as you tried to sink deeper into your seat.

“I had a feeling.” Remus spoke up and you looked at him in shock. He gave you a side eyed glance. “You had a quidditch jersey in your bag. You don't play and certainly not for Slytherin.”

You looked down at your hands on your lap as your father shouted. “Why didn't you tell us, Remus!”

“This,” He gestured with his fork towards his husband and best friend. “You're terrifying the poor girl. I saw the name, I have to agree with Harry, you'd lose it.”

“What?” James snapped and Lily slammed her hands on the table. “Will you cut it out? All three of you! Do you want her to hide things from us forever? She'll tell us in her own time.”

Sirius groaned and began to pick at his food. “Whatever. As long as it isn't Malfoy.” He huffed and you shyly shook your head. Sirius gave an exaggerated groan of relief. “Thank Merlin.”

“Who did that, sweetheart?” James prodded with a warning glare from Lily. “James.” She whispered and they locked eyes. They held that look before he clicked his tongue.

“I asked you a question, niffler.” James prodded, and Lily slowly closed her eyes, covering her face.

“Dad, I really think-”

“Your dad asked you something.” Remus suddenly spoke up and you looked over at him to meet his eyes. Then it hit you. What he had said moments ago. He knew.

“I-”

“Y/N.” Sirius prodded and Lily gave you a sympathetic look. She could command your father on a lot of things. But never about you and Harry.

“Mattheo. Mattheo Riddle.” Harry suddenly spoke up, and your blood ran cold. You sunk as deep as you could into your seat and Lily gave a squeak of surprise, before covering her mouth. Remus thinned his lips and clenched his jaw.

“No you aren't.” James said simply and you covered your face.

“{Y/N}. No you aren't.”

“Dad, please.” You sniffed, overwhelmed. You sat up and straightened yourself. “He isn't some, bad guy-”

Remus scoffed and Sirius slammed his fist on the table. “His father-!”

“He isn't his father!” You challenged, shooting up from your seat and glaring at your uncle. “You of all people should understand that!”

“Watch your mouth.” James hissed and stood up as well. You scoffed and threw your hands up. “I don't understand! He's done nothing wrong! Nothing to any of us! I get that he's not this image you had in your head of what you wanted for me-”

“Dorcas.. Marlene.” Your mother whispered and your body stiffened. You looked over at your mother and your heart broke at her distress. You reached out and she sniffled, dismissing herself. Your shoulders fell and you looked back to your father.

He was staring at you with a look you've never seen.

“Dad-”

“Your room. Now.”

“Dad! That's not fair in the slightest I-”

“Room!” He boomed and you sniffled before running off. Slamming the dining room door behind you as you walked upstairs.

It would be a long summer.

~~~

Mattheo was missing you. He had been missing you for days now. You said you would write to him, but he didn't get a single letter. He figured it was likely you were busy, you did have a family to distract you after all.

So, he wrote you a letter instead. He didn't want to think about how desperate it sounded, how desperate he was for you. He didn't look over it more than once before he sent it.

Little did he know, the second James heard an owl outside, he shot to his feet and hurried to intercept it. You were ever oblivious, in your parents room as you and Lily shared one of many heartfelt conversations over the brief summer. Your mother was doing her best to understand, but it was trouble, trying to believe he wasn't doing this for some master plan down the line. You both went quiet when you heard your father call you both.

When you walked into the parlor room, you sat down on the couch, You looked at the table in front of you and grimaced, You'd know that parchment anywhere.

There was a long pause, before James spoke up. “The last time I saw this parchment, it was a letter Beatrix Lestrange sent us in our third safe house. Telling us she knew where we were, and that she was coming. Coming to kill your family, {Y/N}.” He leaned forward and picked up the letter and you refused to look him in the eyes.

“It’s nostalgic, really. But these words? ‘I yearn for you. I look at my textbooks from over the years and I wonder what it would be like to have you read them to me’.” He declared. “ ‘You made even the most complex of spells doable. You made things doable’.”

Your mother couldnt help but smile a bit at his words. You grimaced.

“Charming, isnt it? If only the rest of the letter wasnt riddled with innuendo of what this fuck wants to do to my daughter.”

You winced and sighed, the grimace not leaving your face. Mattheo that.. Idiot.

Then,, your mother began to laugh, and James looked at her from the corner of his eyes. “What? Is this funny?”

“Quite.” She smirked. “Sounds like the letters you would send me in school. I used to burn them.”

He scoffed and leaned back in his seat. “That makes me feel fantastic. He’s a bastard like I was in school.”

“Well.” Lily spoke slowly. “Look at us now.”

Lily looked over at you just in time for you to glance up and meet her eyes. She smiled sweetly before she continued. “I think its sweet.”

#harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #sirius black #james potter #remus x sirius #remus loves sirius #sirius orion black #remus lupin #sirius being sirius #moony x padfoot #mattheo riddle #mattheo x you #mattheoxreader #mattheo x y/n #slytherin

820 notes · View notes

miryum · 1 year ago

Text

A Green and Silver Ring (Mattheo Riddle x Reader)

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

Word Count: 10.3k

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

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

From the desk of Ginevra

My dearest friend,

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

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

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

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

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

I love you, my friend.

Ginny

From the office of Lorenzo

Miss. L/n,

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I’m looking forward to making your acquaintance.

Lorenzo Berkshire

P.S. I hope I haven’t scared you off.

From the office of L/n

Daughter,

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

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

Your father

From the desk of Ginevra

Y/n,

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

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

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

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

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

Best wishes,

Ginny

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Mattheo had glowered, but shut his mouth.

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It seemed too concrete to fathom.

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You simply uttered, “okay.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Goodnight,” you reiterated.

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

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

It was too late now to apologise.

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Mattheo saw red.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

“Reading,” you said simply.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He rather liked it when you smiled.

***

“Are you alright?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“How was the dinner?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You laughed lightly. “Luck? Fate?”

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I love my children too,” Mattheo defended.

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

“Always.”

2K notes · View notes

bunny-1111 · 7 months ago

Text

Masterlist - requests are open.

updated daily

Harry potter:

Theodore Nott:

Post game destress (fluff + angst) 1.2k words Theo is angry about his team losing the game, and accidentally takes it out on his girlfriend.

Amortentia (fluff) 700 words Amortentia has its perks

Moving on is not for the weak (fluff + angst) 1.2k words Theo and reader breakup, and when Theo sees reader on a date and regrets everything

Migraines and get better kisses (fluff) 800 words Through an intense Quidditch match, Theo gets hurt and you comfort him

Dark Marks and Forbidden Hearts (original short) (fluff) 1.7k words Theo x Slytherin reader pairing during the uprising of the second wizarding war, you, your boyfriend and your friendship group are forced to become death eaters and follow in the legacy of your parents. You are faced with a challenge that you never would’ve imagined.

Whats become of us? (fluff + angst) 2k words the ups & downs of Teddy and your relationship, a party almost causes its end

Upon closer inspection (fluff) a deep dive into the magical Theodore Nott

Dry your tears (angst + fluff) (sad ish) 700 words Theodore and reader drift apart leading to an emotional breakup

Doctor Nott (fluff) Theodore takes care of sick reader

Forever is ours (fluff) Pressures of the war cause you to lash out; your boyfriend Theo is right there to remind you what you’re fighting for

Mission Impossible (fluff) 1k words Theodore attempts to ask you on a date until you finally give in

Beg for it (angst+fluff) 1.5k words Before break, you had trouble with Theodore. On the train ride back to Hogwarts, he reminds you of the consequences of your actions. Beg for it Part 2 0.9k Returning to Hogwarts after ignoring Theodore all summer long was so much worse than you imagine; Theodore was starving you of what you so desperately needed.

Mr fix it (fluff) 1.65k words. Theodore is protective over his wife and daughter as they accidentally take a fall into the lake under his supervision.

Blow out your candles (fluff+angst) 1.1k words You hate your birthday, your boyfriend Theodore tries to make it the best day for you, but only makes it worse, until...

Falling behind (fluff) 0.8k words Based on the lyrics of "Falling Behind" by Laufey, where the reader feels like everyone's in a relationship. Too blind to notice that Theodore's been waiting for her all along.

Theo wants to marry you (fluff)

Slytherin party, theos gf edition

One Step Ahead (angst, enemies to lovers) 1.2k words You and Theodore hate each other. Amidst exam season, was the tension and the teasing because of your rivalry or something else?

Theodore Nott Who Theodore Nott Who Part 2 Theodore Nott Who Part 3 (protective edition) Toxic Theo who

Dating Theo headcanons Dating Theo headcanons, Part 2

Dating Theo headcanons, Part 3

Dating Theo mood board

Dark Marks and Forbidden Hearts (Ongoing book on wattpad)

Dark Marks and Forbidden Heart, Theo Nott Fanfic, navigation

Slytherin Boys react:

how they reaction to you getting sloppy drunk at a party

How they would say I love you for the first time

How they would react to you crying

How they would hold/cuddle you

Slytherin boys + Pansy as poetry quotes

Slytherin Boys fan edits together

How they would react to you getting into a physical fight with another student

How they react to Snape catching them smoking a j

Slytherin boys and their romantic tropes

Draco Malfoy

Dating Draco Malfoy mood board

Matteo Riddle

Dating Metteo Riddle mood board

Matteo Riddle headcanons Headcanons Part 2

Us on repeat, Angst Matteo gets possessive after seeing reader at party after break up

Pansy Parksinson

Pansy Parkinson mood board

Tom Riddle

dating Tom Riddle mood board

Lorenzo Berkshire

coming soon

#theo nott #slytherin #theodore nott imagine #hogwarts #theodore nott #theo nott fluff #theo nott x reader #theodore nott x reader #harry potter #dating theo nott #slytherin boys #slytherin fanfiction #goldentrio #mauraders #sirius black #mattheo riddle #harry potter masterlist #masterlist

486 notes · View notes

lilystyles · 1 year ago

Text

style masterlist.

this series is currently ongoing!! a @lilystyles series.

y/n has had a crush on harry since they were kids but he’s off-limits. him being her best friend’s brother and all she has never made a move, knowing emma wouldn’t approve. but lines are blurred one night and she doesn’t know if she can follow the rules like a good girl.

or y/n is off limits and harry just can't have that.

fratboy!older!bffsbrother!harry x younger!innocent!reader

* * * * *

style

harry seeks comfort, lines are blurred, y/n doesn’t think she can follow the rules like a good girl. (11.4k)

song for this chapter 'Style' by Taylor Swift.

wildest dreams

y/n and harry start to see each other more and more. but it's a secret, things get complicated when emma sets y/n up on a blind date. harry doesn't like it. (15k)

song for this chapter 'Wildest Dreams' by Taylor Swift.

blank space

niall throws the party of the century, and harry gives y/n a gift. (11k)

song for this chapter 'Blank Space' by Taylor Swift.

* * * * *

thanks for all the love for style!H angels he loves u too :)

#styleseriesbylilystyles #harry styles #harry styles smut #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles angst #harry styles x reader smut #lilystyles #harrystylesseries #best friends brother harry!!#style masterlist

1K notes · View notes

deadghosy · 7 months ago

Text

SLYTHERIN BOYS MASTERLIST

(Ordered by post date/hogwarts legacy is included)

HARRY POTTER

🐍 If you missed the hoop while playing basketball

🐍 Platonic Slytherin boys with a keeper friend

🐍“I’m allergic to bullshit”

🐍 Reacting to you saying “you’re gonna pass out”

🐍 React to you saying “someone is staring”

🐍 Taking an ugly picture of them

🐍 Reacting to you clogging up their toilet

🐍 React to you being outside despite being allergic to mosquitoes

🐍 React to you passing out

🐍 Reacting to you oversleeping

🐍 Curly hair! Reader (poc friendly)

🐍 React to you giggling at your phone

🐍 Platonic Slytherin boys with adhd friend

🐍 The type of drivers they are as memes

🐍 Texting them “I think someone is following me”

🐍 When someone tries to bully you

🐍 How they react to you saying “I’m hungry”

🐍 React to you driving crazy

🐍 React to you saying “I hate you” to them

🐍 Reacting to you saying “ima kill myself”

🐍 Mattheo with a male roommate pt.1

🐍 Mattheo with a male roommate pt.2

🐍 Coquette! reader

🐍 Reacting to you being a telepathic/having telekinesis

🐍 Best friend! Mattheo headcannons pt.1//pt.2//pt.3

🐍 Modern Slytherin boys with a male figure skater

🐍 Chaos magic user! Reader

🐍 Platonic modern Slytherin boys with an insomniac male roommate

🐍 Reacting to you dancing alone

🐍 Reacting to you falling asleep during a movie

🐍 Percy Jackson! Reader w/mattheo

🐍 Reacting to m! Reader shaving

🐍 Platonic high! mattheo

🐍 High Theo x reader

🐍 You being scared awake by thunder

🐍 Slytherin boys when they miss you

🐍 Werewolf M.R, T.N, & L.B

🐍 How they would pick you up

🐍 Crybaby! Mattheo

🐍 Teddy-T.N

🐍 Vlogger! Mattheo pt.1//pt.2

🐍 Slytherin boys w/ blind!reader

🐍 July 4th with the Slytherin boys

🐍 Reacting to you falling face first

🐍 Reacting to you falling asleep to them talking

🐍 Reacting to you doing a back flip

🐍 Fanboy! Slytherins with a singer!reader

🐍 Owl!reader

🐍 French!reader getting hurt

🐍 Slytherin boys with witch beauty gf

🐍 Vampire mattheo

🐍 Vampire Tom

🐍 Reacting to their boyfriend having scars

🐍 Ghostface! Mattheo

🐍 Being mattheo’s childhood friend to lover: male version//female version

🐍 Mattheo (fem!reader) during your birthday

🐍 Slytherin boys with a black fem!reader who tall like Megan thee stallion

🐍 Reacting to you crying

🐍 Reacting to m!reader picking them up

🐍 Stalker!Mattheo

🐍“A love that burns.” Poet!mattheo

🐍 Summertime with mattheo riddle

🐍 Being best friends with Lorenzo

🐍 Beach days with Theodore Nott

🐍 Theodore Nott being your yandere best friend

🐍 Sugar daddy!Tom headcannons

🐍“All men are shit..except for you” SB reacting to you saying this

🐍 Old money!Theodore Nott headcannons + moodboard

🐍 Reacting to reader being a manipulator

🐍 Hoodie stealer-Mattheo

🐍 Toxic!theodore nott banners

HOGWARTS LEGACY

🐍 Platonic Ominis headcannons

🐍 Platonic Sebastian headcannons

🐍 Werewolf Sebastian & Ominis x reader

🐍 Sebastian & Ominis with a merfolk! Reader

🐍 Loverboy! Modern Sebastian headcannons and imagines

🐍 Platonic sliver trio headcannons

🐍 Ominis with a hufflepuff lover

🐍 Platonic brotherly headcannons with Sebastian and m!mc

🐍 Chaotic modern Sebastian headcannons

🐍 Ominis x blind!reader headcannons

🐍 Modern platonic Sebastian headcanons with m!mc

🐍 Chaotic modern sliver trio headcanons & imagines

SIBLING! READER

🐍 React to sister! Reader dating

🐍 React to their little sibling falling in their dorm

🐍 Sister!reader on her first period

🐍 Riddle brothers with a sister having a Mandy personality

🐍 Baby! Reader taking their first steps

🐍 Modern au riddle brothers with a little sibling

🐍 Reacting to eating their food

🐍 Baby sibling falling asleep on them

🐍 Reacting to sibling reader crying/bullied

🐍 Reacting to sibling reader ignore them

🐍 Draco with a twin gryffindor sister

🐍 Reacting to little sibling cling to them after holiday

631 notes · View notes

fear-less · 10 months ago

Text

₊˚⊹˚ 𐙚 led by blind faith

pairing: harry potter x reader

warnings: smut, first time, ngl ending is rushed, use of y/n, fem reader lol sorry, p in v, unprotected sex oops, hand & blow job, first time writing smut…😭, somewhat jumps right into it, let me know if i missed anything

1.3k words ^_^

a/n: first time writing smut…so it’s not that good but the ending is cause it’s fluffy :3😭 also, false god lyrics as the titled we r cheered (i cant come up w titles so they’re always taylor inspired 🔥)

You and Harry were in your bedroom, after a few days of convincing him to come to yours during the holidays he had finally said yes.

It was 20 past 10, you were on top of him, kissing, the movie playing in the background long forgotten. Kissing was always the farthest thing you two have done, only dating for a few months.

But as the months have gone by, you have slowly been wanting more, more than kissing. nonetheless, you never brought it up to Harry afraid he would not want to go that far just few months into dating.

But now, you didn’t want to stop at just kissing, you wanted to go all the way. so now, here you were sitting on Harry’s lap, legs around his torso making out, few minutes in you started moving your hips, dry humping him.

“Mmm, Y/n, what’re you doing?” Harry said, catching his breath.

“do you want me to stop?” you said smirking knowing he probably wouldn’t want to stop, feeling him get hard beneath you.

“No, please don’t stop” Harry said whining, bringing you back into the kiss. His hands roamed your body, igniting every nerve with a tingling sensation. The soft sighs and gasps that escaped your lips mingled with the sound of heavy breathing, creating a symphony of desire.

Your movements became more urgent and rhythmic, each grind of your hips against his eliciting a low growl from Harry’s throat. The friction between your bodies sent waves of pleasure coursing through you, heightening every touch and kiss

Harry felt the tantalizing edge of release drawing near, his breaths shallow and ragged with anticipation. Just as he was on the brink, you abruptly halted, leaving him whining in frustration as the waves of pleasure ebbed away.

“Why’d you stop?” Harry’s voice cracked with need, his eyes pleading for the blissful sensation to continue a little longer.

You met his gaze with a mischievous smirk, relishing in the power you held over his pleasure. As Harry huffed in mild annoyance, your smirk deepened, knowing the effect your actions were having on him. With a deliberate movement, you peeled off your shirt, revealing a sight that made Harry’s annoyance evaporate into thin air.

Harry’s eyes widened in awe as he took in the sight before him, his breath hitching at the sudden rush of desire that engulfed him. The soft glow of the room cast a tantalizing sheen over your exposed skin, accentuating every curve and contour in a way that left Harry spellbound.

Without a word, Harry reached out, his fingertips tracing the outline of your bare shoulders, a silent plea for permission and affirmation. You met his touch with a subtle arch of your back, inviting him closer, igniting a primal hunger that had been simmering beneath the surface.

The air crackled with electricity as Harry’s lips found yours once again, a fervent urgency driving their movements. Every kiss was a symphony of longing and exploration, each touch a declaration of unspoken desires.

With trembling hands, Harry continued to explore the canvas of your skin, his touch tentative yet eager, as if afraid to break the spell that bound you together. But there was no turning back now, the floodgates of passion had been opened, and both of you were swept away in the torrent of raw, unbridled need.

Soon enough, you found yourself laying on your stomach, in between Harry’s legs. His pants off and left in his boxers, palming his hard on through them.

After a few seconds, you took his boxers off, his cock now in your hands, dragging your fist up and down. Loving how Harry was reacting, seeing him like this made your panties wet, embarrassingly wet.

“Please, use your mouth,” you hesitate for a moment before taking him into your mouth, exploring the length of his cock with your tongue.

His hands finding their way to your hair, pulling at it when wants you to go deeper.

"Oh fuck yes...", he moans, biting his lower lip. His cock throbs against your tongue, wanting more attention as he leans against your bed frame for support.

You take him deeper into your mouth, sucking gently on the head while your hand strokes the rest in time with your bobbing actions. “Mmm, just like that, baby...", he pants, his hips starting to move in rhythm with your mouth.

Harry’s grip in your hair tightens more, jerking his hips foward. "Please keep going... I'm close," he whines, his voice strained. "Don't stop now."

You keep going, taking him deeper into your mouth. The thought of making him cum making you eager.

Harry’s breathing is ragged now, his body trembling of pleasure. "I'm gonna cum princess...," he warns, his voice rough from need.

He groans, his hips jerking forward as he empties himself into your mouth. His hot cum fills you up, causing you to gag a little bit as he fills your mouth up, you swallow it and pull your mouth off his still hard cock, you sit up slowly.

Harry grabs your waist and pushes you down onto the bed, your legs now wrap around his waist and your arms around his neck. He takes off your sleep shorts and moves your panties to the side, revealing your glistening pussy.

“You’re so soaked sweetheart..” He whispers, sliding two fingers in you making you moan his name. He pumps his fingers in and out of you in a slowly before taking his fingers out and putting them into his mouth, groaning at the taste.

He loved the sight of you in nothing but your panties, laying underneath him, everything about you would be just so perfect to him, it makes his stomach flutter.

“I need more, Harry, need you inside me” you panted softly, rocking your hips against his hand.

“Of course, sweetheart,” he laughed breathily,

rolling his hips against you again, coating his cock in your already leaking juices before catching on your entrance and achingly slowly sinking into your plush walls and making you arch your back.

“I love you,” he murmured against your neck feeling your wall already fluttering around him. Pulling himself almost completely free of you but thrusts back into you lazily, setting a slow but steady pace that was driving you crazy with each stroke. “I love you so much.”

“Harry, I love you too,” you almost sobbed as your climax washed over you your walls clenching around him tightly.

“I love you more” He grinned, he gives a few more thrusts before allowing himself to fall over the edge and fill you with his warm seed.

In the quiet aftermath, a serene calm settled over the room, punctuated only by the soft sounds of your synchronized breathing. Harry’s arms wrapped protectively around you, his touch gentle and reassuring as he traced soothing circles along your back.

With whispered words of affection and reassurance, you both savored the intimacy of the moment, basking in the warmth of each other’s presence. The tenderness in Harry’s gaze spoke volumes, a silent promise of care and understanding that transcended words.

As the world outside remained oblivious to the shared intimacy you had just experienced, you found solace in the cocoon of love and trust that surrounded you both. Harry’s fingers trailed lazily through your hair, his touch a soothing melody that lulled you into a state of contentment.

In that sacred space of aftercare, boundaries dissolved, and vulnerabilities were embraced. The unspoken bond between you deepened, strengthened by the shared vulnerability and tenderness of the moment.

Together, you reveled in the simple yet profound act of caring for each other, finding solace and comfort in the gentle aftermath of passion. It was in these moments of intimacy and aftercare that the true essence of your connection blossomed, a testament to the depth of your love and the unspoken emotions that bound you together.

#harry potter #harry potter oneshots #harry potter x reader #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter x y/n #harry potter x you #harry potter smut #harry james potter x y/n #harry james potter x you #harry james potter x reader #harry james potter imagine #harry james potter

651 notes · View notes

avatar-anna · 5 months ago

Text

Where It All Began

Hockey Player! Harry x Figure Skater! Reader

i had this finished hours ago and then tumblr didn't save it and i wanted to throw my phone out a window.

also, i don't write smut so if it's bad say nothing 🫣

When you saw Harry on the other side of your open door, you immediately slammed it shut in his face.

"Oh, come on, princess, don't be like that!"

"Go away!" you groaned loud enough that he could hear through the door.

Harry did not go away. His head thudded against the door instead. You could almost picture his forehead pressed against it, small pout on his lips for not getting his way.

"Are you really going to ignore me? After everything we've been through together?"

No. "Yes. And stop calling me princess!" you said, a little louder this time.

"I know you love it," Harry said. "You had quite a different reaction when I said it last week. A week, princess. How long are you gonna keep me in agony here?"

The night in question was one you'd been trying and failing to forget. It was a slip, a lapse in judgement, something you didn't think about carefully before doing it, and now look at where you were. Harry had been trying to talk to you, both discreetly and not so discreetly ever since, but you'd given him the cold shoulder, for no other reason than if you stayed too long in his presence you might've slipped again.

Hooking up with your mortal enemy was a horrible idea, one you were now paying dearly for.

With a scoff, you said through the door, "Don't act like half the school isn't lined up to sleep with you. Go be with one of them."

It was one of the reasons why you tried to stay away from Harry. You didn't judge him for his alleged sexual prowess, but you wanted someone committed to you and only you. If you wanted someone, that is. Between your studies and figure skating, there was no room for relationships of any kind, especially not with arrogant hockey players. Especially not Harry Styles.

"You really want that to be it?" Harry asked, ignoring your comment. "I mean it was great, but a coat closet isn't conducive to showing off my best work. Come on, princess, let me show you some of my best work."

"Maybe I don't want to because it wasn't satisfying enough." Liar. You knew it, and he knew it too.

"The stains on my shirt from you squirting everywhere say otherwise," he said, and your cheeks heated immediately. You could hear the smirk in his voice, the satisfaction in it as he remembered how you came on his fingers. It made your core pulse, but you mentally scolded yourself.

"Nothing to say to that, huh? I thought so," he said. "I can't help it now that I'm hooked, Y/n. I need that everywhere. Can you imagine riding me when you do that? Or sitting on my face? God please sit on my—"

You finally opened the door and yanked Harry inside before slamming it shut again. "Keep your voice down!" you hissed.

If you weren't so annoyed with him, you would've noticed Harry was looking at you with hearts in his eyes, but it would be a long time before you realized he looked at you like that all the time.

But unfortunately, all you saw was his smirk, his dimples set deep in his cheeks as he looked you up and down. "It wouldn't have been a problem if you had just let me in in the first place. It's not my fault you need a physical barrier to keep yourself from throwing yourself at me."

"I—I did not throw myself at you!"

"You did, but that's okay. I liked it."

"You're infuriating!"

"And you're stubborn! And blind!"

"Blind? To what?"

With each word exchanged, Harry backed you up until your back hit your bed. There was nowhere left to run, nowhere to hide. It was either push him away or give in to him.

"Look at me, princess. I want to see those pretty eyes when I say this to you," he said, voice now hushed and gravelly now that he was in your room. You looked up, unable to ignore the command in his tone or the way it turned your insides molten.

"I want you, Y/n. I haven't been able to stop thinking about you since that night. Since—"

"Since?" you asked, curious why he stopped all of a sudden.

"Nevermind. The point is that I want you, and I know you want me. You can't tell me someone else has made you feel as good as I have."

No one had, and it was infuriating. You couldn't deny it, not when he was staring at you so intensely. So you fell back on your tried and true excuse. "I don't have time—"

"You think I have all sorts of free time?" Harry asked. "Both of our schedules are crazy, Y/n. All I'm asking is for you to give it a try."

"Give what a try? Sleeping together?"

Something shifted in Harry's expression, but it was back to his heated gaze before you could process it. "Yeah, princess. You need someone to take your frustrations out on? Take them out on me. Need a break from studying? I'm there. Just need someone to fuck you so hard that you forget how to think properly? Well, you saw what I did with just my fingers."

"So...just hooking up," you confirmed. "No dating."

"No dating," Harry agreed, his hand slipping to the back of your neck, the light touch sending shivers down your spine. "Just sex."

"And no one else can know," you managed to get out before finally giving in. Every cell in your body was screaming at you to kiss him, to tear his clothes off and taste him everywhere. But you had to say this first. "I don't want our friends weighing in or giving us a hard time."

"Might have to be really quiet sometimes, then. Think you can handle it?"

He was so self-assured. It was something that annoyed you to no end, but now made your pulse quicken. You were wet from the gravel in his voice alone, feeling it skitter along your skin and turning your core molten. You wanted him. It was time to stop denying yourself the pleasure he was promising you. But first, you needed to level the playing field a bit.

You kissed him, taking Harry by surprise but he was quick to recover. Shoving your hands in his hair, you threw off the baseball cap that always sat backwards on his head. He groaned against your mouth as you pulled at the roots, the sound going straight between your legs.

Hands were everywhere, and so was Harry's tongue. His mouth was on your neck, your jaw, your collar bones and chest. It was enough of a distraction to slip your hands to his waist, to flick off the button of his jeans and slide them down until they looked on the floor.

Harry stepped out of them with ease, following your lead as you turned until his back was against your bed. His eyes were heavy with lust, widening slightly as you got down on your knees and pulled his briefs down. You caught him in your hand, unable to stop yourself from licking your lips at the sight of him.

His cock was long and hard, the tip and angry shade of red, as if just blowing on it might send him over the edge. You did just that, curious to know the answer. Harry didn't come, but he made a strangled sound that made you smile. Looking up at him innocently, you finally asked him, "Can you?"

"Can I—Fuck. "Can I what, princess?"

You didn't answer right away, satisfied with making him wait. Satisfied with the moans and stuttered breaths and the harsh grip in your hair as you played with him.

Harry's cock was heavy in your mouth, and it took everything in you not to show how much you enjoyed sucking him off. Giving pleasure was something that got you off, but with him it was all dialed up. You could feel your underwear dampen as you took him further down your throat, your eyes watering as you bobbed back and forth.

Before he could hit the back of your throat, Harry's grip on your hair tightened and pulled you off him. Almost embarrassingly, you tried to reach him but he held you back.

"Can I what?" Harry repeated. His cheeks were flushed, and the look in his eyes promised a harsh throat fucking if you complied, so you did.

"Can you handle keeping your voice down too? From what I understand it doesn't seem like you can."

Harry chuckled like he was impressed, which pleased you in a way that it shouldn't have. You wanted to impress him all of a sudden. You wanted to please him.

"I guess we'll see. Get up on the bed."

You hesitated. As much as you wanted him inside you, you wanted him in your mouth more. You weren't finished yet. Or rather, Harry wasn't finished yet.

"What is it?" he asked.

You took him into your mouth again, losing yourself in the weight and feel of him on your tongue despite yourself. It was infuriating how much Harry turned you on despite how annoying he was. Mixed with your penchant for getting off and getting others off, you were a goner.

Harry's moans and the grip on your hair only fueled you. Your panties were nothing but a wet scrap of fabric at this point but you didn't care.

Before you could take him down the back of your throat, Harry pulled you off him again. In the fog of lust, you leaned for him involuntarily but he held you back.

Harry chuckled, his usual smirk not so irritating as it normally was. "A slut and a brat. I didn't know I was getting two for the price of one, but we'll work on that don't worry."

A flash of irritation came to the surface. "You're so—"

"Ah ah ah, let's get back to what you do best, yeah? If you wanna suck cock all day, by all means," Harry said, his voice so condescending you almost didn't want to, but your lust eventually won out.

You couldn't help it. You really did want him in your mouth.

"Fuck, there we go. I knew you couldn't resist for long."

"Shut up, you're ruining this for me."

"Sorry, princess, I'll let you focus. You can tap my thigh if it's too much. I have a feeling you might get carried away. Just had no idea you were such a slut for my cock."

You pinched Harry's leg instead as you worked your mouth further down his length. Hissing, he gripped your hair tight, a small warning to behave.

"What would all our friends say if they knew, huh? Everyone thinks you hate me, but in reality you can't go a whole week without my cock in you. That must really piss you off."

You breathed harshly through your nose, but Harry didn't miss that subtle squeeze of your thighs, proving him right. You could pretend all you wanted, he didn't seem to care one way or another. It probably satisfied him to no end to know that he got under your skin, that the focused, levelheaded good girl you appeared to be was a mere facade.

"You can't stand it, can you? And yet you're probably so fuckin' wet when I talk like this, huh? Dirty girl. My dirty girl. You look like a fucked out mess and you don't even care. I bet you even like it."

Harry pulled you off his cock, a small whimper leaving your swollen, drool covered lips. You looked up at him with wide, pleading eyes, too far gone to act like this wasn't exactly where you wanted to be.

"You look so cute," Harry cooed, gently wiping spit or precum from the corner of Y/n's mouth. That seemed to snap her out of her trance, and she swatted his hand away, reaching out for his length to finish him off. "Ah ah ah. I think I need to hear it first."

"Hear what?"

"How much you want this. How much you want me."

Y/n narrowed her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest as she sat back on her heels, not saying a single word.

"You can sit there and bruise your knees, princess," Harry said, running a hand over his dick, smiling slightly as he watched her eyes track the movement. "Maybe I'll just come on your face and leave without getting you off. But something tells me you might like that."

Your pussy throbbed at the thought, the little traitor, though you were starting to feel like giving in was easier than resisting, no matter how much Harry might tease you for it after.

"I get off on pleasuring other people, sue me," you snapped, pointedly looking away from Harry and his ministrations.

"True," Harry agreed. "But that's not the whole truth. Come on, Y/n. You know I'll reward you for being a good girl, but if you take too long..."

Swiping his thumb over his tip, Harry leaned his head back and moaned. The veins in his neck bulged as the muscles in his stomach contracted. His whole body was flushed pink. He really was gonna come.

"Fine! Fine," you huffed barely looking in his eyes. "I—I want you."

"You can do better than that," Harry teased, still pumping his shaft lightly. "Touch yourself while you convince me. I want to see what that little pussy will tell me if you can't say it with your words."

Whimpering, you dipped your fingers beneath your panties, gasping as they grazed your clit as they made their way down to your slit. You were soaked, which wasn't news to you, but the sound of two fingers pumping in and out of you with ease told Harry enough.

"Please," you whimpered. "I want to finish you off. I want you, Harry. Please let me suck your cock."

"Well, since you asked so nicely," Harry said, grinning almost evilly. "Keep playing with yourself too. But don't fucking come. I told you where I wanted you to squirt and it won't be on the fucking floor."

You moaned as you finally took him into your mouth again. He was close, his hips bucking into you frenetically. You focused on the tip, swirling your tongue over it while your hands took care of the rest. It was intoxicating, he was intoxicating. You lost yourself in the feel of him on your tongue, in the twinge of pain in your scalp as he kept a tight grip on your hair. You added a third finger to your throbbing pussy, moaning around Harry until it became too much.

"Come. Please come, Harry," you begged. "I'm so close and I—I can feel it."

Then, pulling your hand from your heat, you sucked at his tip, using the slickness of your hand to pump the rest of him before sliding back down his length. You could taste yourself on him, the sensation nearly sending you over the edge. Part of you wanted to know what Harry would do if you did come, if you disobeyed, but you figured there would be an opportunity for that. Right now, you wanted him, and you wanted to ride his face as reward for your hard work.

"God you're a fucking dream," Harry moaned, thrusting into your mouth after your little display.

He spilled into your mouth then, his cock twitching as you eagerly swallowed spurt after spurt of his cum. Harry cursed and moaned through it all, gently running a hand through your hair. You didn't want to let up, still in a trance as you tried to milk every possible bit out of him as possible.

"A slut in a good girl's clothes. Who knew," he said, chest rising rapidly as if he just did sprints on the ice.

Raising your brow, you licked your hand clean, keeping eye contact with him until he eventually brought you to your feet. Your legs were wobbly, but Harry steadied you. He kissed you hard, tongue thrusting into your mouth as if he was chasing the taste of your heat on your tongue. "If you wanted to get rid of me, you failed miserably, princess," he murmured onto your lips before hoisting you on your bed. You practically vibrated with anticipation, your pussy aching for his attention. It wouldn't take much to come since you were so close, but you figured your legs would be locked around Harry's head until he was ready to fuck you properly.

When Harry was situated on your bed the way he liked, he motioned for you to come closer. You crawled up the bed, stopping right before his face. His expression was eager as he helped you out of your shirt, his hands kneading your breasts appreciatively and tweaking your nipples until you moaned, moving your hips involuntarily.

"Don't or I swear to God I'm gonna come," you hissed, trying to hold your impending orgasm at bay.

"Hm. Another time then," Harry said. "Don't be gentle, okay? Make a mess out of me. Now move those panties to the side so I can get a good look at you.

It was the last intelligible thing either of you said for a while, you too lost in your own pleasure and Harry smothered in you, his hands guiding your hips and gripping your ass appreciatively. He moaned almost as much as you did, his tongue working over your slit, up to your clit, and down again over and over. You can rather quickly because of everything that happened before, your legs trembling as you tried to move off him. But he held you down, seating you on him once more.

"No."

"Harry, I—"

"No. You're not done coming yet. I need at least two more," he said before sticking two fingers into your hole and latching his lips around your clit.

He pumped at a bruising pace, sucking and flicking the tip of his tongue, driving tears to your eyes from the overstimulation. It was almost painful, but your hips bucked in time with Harry's fingers. And even though you'd never done it before in such quick succession, you could feel a second orgasm barreling through you. The pressure built and built, and all it took was the graze of Harry's teeth against your clit to send you over.

The pleasure was so intense you were pretty sure you blacked out. Harry's fingers didn't let up, curling into you and making you climax for the third time before you even finished your second.

You don't know if you screamed, you don't know if you stopped making sound altogether. All you knew was pure euphoria and the slide of Harry's tongue on your trembling thighs as he lapped up the messy aftermath of your two consecutive releases. His nose graze your clit, and you twitched, twitched, moaning or sobbing or begging, you couldn't tell.

"Okay, princess, time to lay down," Harry said.

You felt lighter than air as he laid you flat on your back. You were pretty sure you had pillows, but you couldn't recall how to ask. All you knew was the man beside you who knew how to make you c so hard you saw stars.

The same man kissed you before sliding off the bed and you reached for him, something you would never normally do. "Where—You—You're not staying with me?"

Harry's features softened as he kissed you again, this time on your cheek. "Gotta get you cleaned up. Gotta clean myself up for that matter. I'll be quick, I promise."

"Okay."

Harry was quick, just as he promised. A warm towel between your legs, your bed dipping, Harry's body wrapped around yours, the smell of his body wash comforting as it engulfed you—it all made your eyes heavy.

"Where are my pillows?" you finally asked, realizing you were using his arm as one instead.

"They, uh, took the brunt of your special talent, along with my face," he said, only slightly teasing.

"Sorry," you said, cheeks pinking.

"You'll never hear me complaining about that," Harry said, kissing your neck. "Might have to have that regularly. You've made an addict out of me."

You had enough energy to pinch the arm wrapped around you. "Pig."

"Go to sleep, princess. You're not you when you're high on orgasms, and I miss our verbal spats."

You didn't need to be told twice and fell asleep almost instantly. When you woke up, Harry and any and all traces of him were gone. Your pillows were back on the bed without their pillowcases. One glance at your hamper told you where Harry put them before he left.

Part of you didn't like that he left while you were asleep, but as the fog of sleep wore off and you fitted a shirt over your head, you told yourself it was for the best. Especially when a couple minutes later your roommate walked in.

"Hey, Y/n," she said as she set her backpack by her desk.

"Hey," you replied, stretching your arms high above your head before covering a yawn.

"I don't think I've ever seen you so tired in the middle of the day. Tough workout at the rink this morning?"

You couldn't help but grin, your afternoon with Harry replaying in your head. Despite the earth-shattering orgasms only a couple hours ago, you felt your core pulse at the memory.

"Yeah. Something like that."

#harry styles #hockey player!harry styles #hockeyrry #figure skater!reader #figure skater!yn #harry styles blurb #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfic #harry styles oneshot #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x you #harry styles fluff #harry styles writing #harry styles one shot #harry styles fic #harry styles au

382 notes · View notes

itsnevercasual · 8 months ago

Text

Infinity

pairing: college au!harry x reader

summary: The guy next door likes to blast music. You maybe-sorta-kinda really like him.

warnings: cussing, not edited, im not in college idk how it works…

—

You didn’t want to be annoying. Truly, you didn’t. But you and your roommate, Daisy, were asleep.

Or…

Trying to be.

It was difficult with the blasting music next door.

And honestly, you had tried to avoid it. Had let them play their loud music for months now. Sent Daisy over to tell them to shut up so you didn’t have to (because despite her name, she was terrifying when she got mad).

But.. really?

It had to be, like… three in the morning. They’d been blasting it since nine pm, and you hadn’t gotten a wink of sleep.

So, clad in your bunny slippers, pajama pants you stole from someone (don’t ask who, you don’t remember) and a Fleetwood Mac shirt four sizes too big (because that was all they had at the thrift store), hair pulled back into a very messy braid, and glasses you rarely wore because you liked yourself better with contacts (mainly because you were so blind your glasses made your eyes look bigger), you stomped on over.

You pounded on the door (not really.. your knock barely made a sound), and miraculously, they heard you and opened the door.

A boy opened it.

No. Not a boy.

A cute boy. A very, very cute boy.

You blinked in surprise. You had expected girls… were boys even allowed on the same floor as girls?

“Ehm.. can I help you?” he asked after you were silent for a little too long.

“Oh. Right. Uh.. would you mind turning the music off? I have a final tomorrow, and.. I’m next door, so.. I can kinda hear it. On full blast. Um.. you don’t have to turn it off.. just.. down..”

He sighed, turning into the dorm to shout, “I told you to turn it down, Lou!” he turns back to you. “Yeah. Sorry. My mate’s practically deaf, I’m pretty sure. Doesn’t realize how loud he is… you say you’re next door?”

You nod.

“You got the alarmingly scary roommate named after a flower?”

Another nod. Why was he making small talk? You wanted to sleep.

“Ah. Glad y’didn’t send her over.”

He eyes you up and down, giving that sentence another meaning you didn’t really like.

"Right. Well.. just.. turn it down, please," you give an awkward smile and nod.

When you turn to walk away, he stops you, "’ey-- little rude to not give me y'name, isn't it?"

"Oh. Uh.. I’m Y/N."

He grins, "Well, hello, Y/N. I’m Harry."

You nod, pursing your lips as you pull on a strand of your hair.

There’s a beat of silence, and you contemplate just throwing yourself off a bridge, honestly.

"I'll see you around, Y/N."

With that, you scurry off to your room. Despite being uncomfortable in the moment, it wasn't because of him. You just were horrid at talking to boys.

A few weeks passed, and you accepted the fact that maybe you wouldn't see your neighbor as much as you hoped you would.

And really, you weren’t surprised. You’d never seen him before, why would that change? It made perfect sense that he remained as elusive as he had apparently always been.

Well, that is, until you were dragged to a party you really didn’t wanna go to in clothes you really weren’t all that comfortable wearing at your house— let alone at some douchey frat party.

The first hour was fine because it was early, so only a handful of people were drunk.

The second hour was less enjoyable, the longer the party went on, the more people drank.

In the third hour, your friends shoved a drink in your hand, and once you finished it, they sucked you into taking far too many shots.

The fourth hour was when you started to get antsy. You were pushing over the edge of just being a little too tipsy, and it was hot and sticky and crowded and had it always been so hard to breathe?

You shoved your way out of the crowd and onto the empty (or so you thought) patio, and exhaled. It was less of a patio and more of a balcony, since it was the second floor— but it was huge. 20 people could comfortably stand on it and not be crowded.

Your heels clack on the concrete as you walk to the edge of the patio, leaning on the railing as you take deep breaths.

“That bad in there?”

You nearly jump out of your skin at the familiar british voice. You spin around with wide eyes and a hand over your heart, “Jesus Christ! Don’t do that!”

“Sorry!” he raises his hands in defense. “I thought you saw me!”

“Clearly not!” you pause and take a deep breath, “Sorry— I’m kinda drunk and I hate being drunk. I’m paranoid enough when I’m sober, so when I can’t even walk straight I’m extra jumpy and anxious. And I honestly didn’t even wanna come out tonight, my friends just dragged me along and put me in some ‘going out clothes’ that I don’t think I even have the confidence to wear alone in my dorm! And—“

You pause at his grinning face.

“I’m rambling, aren’t I? Sorry, I get nervous when I’m drunk. Did I already say that? I think I did. Anyway, I talk a lot when i’m nervous, and I don’t really know how to talk to guys in the first place. If I get too annoying just tell me to shut up and I will. I don’t even realize I’m doing it half the— I’m still going. Sorry.”

“No harm done. I quite like your nervous rambling.”

Your cheeks heat up.

“So what made you run for the hills to come out here?” he asks, standing up from the chair he was sitting on.

“I’m not really a party girl.”

“Yeah, I could’ve guessed that.”

You frown, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Not in a bad way!” he rushes out. “But you just.. are a jumpy person, like you said. Like a bunny. I’d be surprised if you went to parties every weekend on your own free will.”

And really— you have to laugh, because he’s right. “Yeah. I’m definitely not a party girl. And I am not the girl who wears this stuff. Not that it’s bad! But.. I’m just not.. comfortable in this,” you shrug, pulling at the short skirt.

The outfit your friends had picked out consisted of a white, very mini mini-skirt, a white cropped tank top, and some black heels. If the skirt was just a little longer, perhaps a little looser, you’d be fine. If you could at least cover up your belly button— you’d always hated it for no real reason except for the fact that, as embarrassing as it sounds, belly buttons freaked you out.

“Well, if it’s any consolation, I think you look great,” he smiles.

You probably look like a tomato’s long lost sibling by now.

“Thank you.”

“But.. I also think you look great in pyjamas and bunny slippers and glasses and that little pout telling me my music’s too loud.”

“Hey!” You cross your arms.

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding,” he laughs as you try to smack his arm. “So, if you don’t like parties, why’re you here?”

“My friends wanted to go out,” you shrug. “I was done the second we got here.”

He pauses, as if mulling over a thought in his brain and you desperately want to know what, before he speaks, “D’you wanna go home, then?”

You blink at him, “What? I— I mean, yeah. I do, but I’m kinda drunk and all my friends are plastered—“

“I’ll drive you,” he cuts you off before you talk yourself up a wall. “Live next door t’ya anyway.”

“Really? I— are you sure?”

“Yeah,” he shrugs, “Wouldn’t have offered if I was. Let’s get y’out of here.”

The trip to the car took far longer than necessary, mainly because you ran into your friends doing shots and got sucked into one more round, which turned into ten more rounds.

By the time you were done, Harry was half carrying you out. He’d long since looped your arm around his shoulders, and his own arm around your waist as you stumbled towards the car.

“Alright,” he sighed once the two of you finally reached the car. “In you get, love.”

You can’t even stop yourself from grinning ridiculously as he helps you get in the passenger seat and buckle.

He shuts your door and slides into the driver’s seat. You stare at him. He smiles, but doesn’t call you out.

He turns on the radio, and you gasp. “I love this song!”

“Do you, now?” he laughs, and it’s almost teasing. Or, perhaps, it is, and your brain is too fogged up to comprehend that.

“Yes!” you exclaim, turning up the volume as Cruel Summer blasts through his car.

“I’m drunk in the back of the car! And I cried like a baby comin’ home from the bar! Oh, oh!” you sing, extremely off key.

“Quite the singer,” he comments.

“Said I’m fine, but it wasn’t true! I don’t wanna keep secrets just to keep you! And I snuck in through the garden gate—“

“You’re pretty,” you comment as Harry helps you up the stairs.

“You think so?”

“Yeah. You have nice eyes. And hair. Your hair’s really soft.”

“Don’t think you’ve ever touched my hair, so I’m not sure how you came to that conclusion, babe.”

You grin. Babe. “It looks soft. Duh.”

“Oh, of course. Duh.”

You think he’s teasing you, but you don’t care to tease back or get offended.

“Alright. Where’re your keys?”

“My keys! They’re… with Daisy.”

“No spares?”

“No,” you pout. “Do I have to sleep in the hallway?”

“No, ‘course not,” he shakes his head, pausing. “Ehm.. new plan. Gonna set you up in my bed, yeah? That okay?”

You nod with a hum.

He moves you one door over and fumbles with the key before finally pushing the door open.

“Bed’s right here, love. In you get, c’mon.”

He helps you sit down on the bed, and you rest your head against the wall.

“Hey, hey— don’t sleep yet.”

“Why?” you whine.

“Gotta get you comfy,” he explains, tugging your shoes off. He quickly goes to the dresser before pulling out pants and a shirt.

“You need help changing?”

You frown and nod.

“Alright. I won’t look, love. Promise.”

True to his word, Harry turns you around so your back is to him as he helps you get out of the tank top. He quickly slips the t-shirt over it.

He lays you down on the bed and slaps a hand over his eyes as he pulls your skirt down and helps you into the pants.

“Alright.. better, yeah?”

You nod, lying on the pillow. He helps you under the covers that smell like him and gives you an extra blanket.

“M’kay. Gonna sleep on the top bunk, yeah? Just say my name if y’need me.”

“Thank you,” you mumble.

“‘Course.”

He moves to walk away, but— “Wait, Harry—“

He turns back to you, “What’s wrong?”

You lift a hand up and run it through his hair. “I was right. It’s soft.”

He laughs.

“Go to bed, babe.”

“Sir, yes, Sir.”

He knew you’d probably be embarrassed in the morning, but he wouldn’t tell you that he enjoyed how touchy you got when drunk.

You didn’t plan on telling him that you’d slightly sobered up on the drive home and just played the drunk bit up as an excuse.

And your keys were in your purse.

a/n: YAYYYY COLLEGE AU HARRY!!!

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles fic #harry styles imagine #harry styles oneshot #harry styles one shot #harry fic #harry styles au #harry styles angst #harry #college harry #college!harry styles #fbh #lhh #phh #harry styles fluff #harry styles fanfiction

468 notes · View notes

meelusinee · 2 months ago

Text

HOME IS A QUESTION MARK | C.W X READER

word count \ 2.8k | christmas fluff | slash / charlie weasley x reader

in which you find yourself at home dating charlie weasley author's note at the end!

FICMAS MASTERLIST

HOME IS A QUESTION MARK | CHARLIE WEASLEY X READER

You have been through many homes in your life.

Your mother had birthed you inside a home made to be warm and safe. You could tell whenever you walked through it as a young kid, feeling the warmth of love inside the woodwork of the door frames. Though that didn’t last long, your grandparents taking you out once she married a monster of a man.

Then there was the issue of your grandparents. Your grandmother was quick to blame you for all of your mother’s problems, and your grandfather was too much of a coward to stop it. The police officer who came to get you after a welfare call took you in for a week or two, which forced you to live with kids who were absolute menaces.

All of that faded once you were in foster care though. Anything horrid that you ever imagined in your nightmares seemed to be your reality now, a mix between constant anxiety and lack of energy to care running through you like the oxygen you needed to breathe.

Suffice to say, you never truly felt at home. No amount of porridge or pumpkin juice from Hogwarts could make you feel safe, nor any amount of butterbeer surfing itself down your throat.

Nothing ever felt like home.

Nothing felt like home until you met him.

You had been friends with the Weasley twins for a long while, having been adopted into their schemes ever since you stepped foot onto the platform of Hogwarts. They seemed to like you enough to keep you around without hurting you, and that was all you could ask for in the beginning.

Percy seemed a bit annoying to them, but you didn’t mind him that much. Ron and Ginny came after, along with Hermione and Harry. You and Harry seemed to bond well over your trauma, though you never truly knew with people.

Even with that in mind, it wasn’t perfect. The twins had a knack for the dangerous kind of trouble, and their younger siblings and their friends had a knack for the deadly kind. Fred and George’s pranks sometimes went too far, and there were times you debated ending the friendship because of that. You put in effort to communicate the issues with them, even if you regretted it internally sometimes.

But right now? Right now you were very glad that you had put in the effort.

“Charlie.” he had said, that smile flashing you like a blinding paparazzi light you had been wanting on you your whole life.

His eyes were warm, and his piercing along with other things helped his charm. He had a couple of scars across his arms and face, mainly burn marks. That and the freckles, his arms covered in those and lean muscles.

“Y/N.” you whispered, smiling softly at him. Your stomach felt like it was twisting itself into a cruel knot worthy of its place in books devoted to forms of olden time torture.

“So you’re the famous twin wrangler?” he asked, chuckling softly as he leaned forward. He knew you? That was a shock in it of itself, as was his new standing position.

“Twin wrangler?” you asked.

“You know, Fred and George,” he said, waving his hand. “I’ve heard that you’ve given ‘em one of many different lectures as of late.”

“Oh,” you said, smiling softly at his words. You weren’t sure who told him about you, but if you had to assume, it’d probably be either Ginny or Ron. “I suppose so, yes.”

“You’re rather adorable,” he muttered, tilting his head slightly to look at you. “Ron didn’t do me any justice explaining you.”

“No?” you asked, a small flush covering your cheeks.

Charlie smiled at you, his eyes looking you up and down with a small smile. “Yeah, not the tiniest bit.”

“Oh,” you breathed out, smiling dopily at him.

“I think you look pretty, Y/N.” he said slowly, and you noticed how his voice dropped a bit as he talked to you. “I think you look really pretty.”

You smiled at that, the flush on your cheeks spreading all across your face. You weren’t sure if he would notice it or not, though you definitely did with how hot your face felt. “Thank you.”

“It’s a basic fact of the world, I don’t need to be thanked.” he hummed, chuckling softly. “The dragons can sometimes breathe fire, Wizards can do magic, and you are absolutely beautiful. If it weren’t for the fact you were dating someone, I would probably ask you to be my wife.”

Your smile brightened a bit more at his first sentences, though his last one made your eyebrows furrow rather quickly. “Dating someone?”

“Fred said that you had a boyfriend?” Charlie said, his eyebrows furrowing back. “No, I don’t.” you muttered, looking at where Fred was standing. It was their grand opening night for their shop in Hogsmeade, and their family had dragged them both out to celebrate at the Three Broomsticks. That, by association, led to you being dragged and sat in the corner. “I’m not sure why he said that.”

“Maybe he knew I’d try to flirt with you if I thought you were single.” Charlie said, tapping his now empty glass of butterbeer. “Do you want another drink?”

“Oh,” you muttered, looking down at the glass you had practically downed when you got it. “Yeah, another one would be nice.”

“Maybe a date afterwards?” he asked hopefully, a sparkle in his eyes you’d never really seen in a man before.

You blinked in confusion at the sight of it, not sure what to think. On one hand, you weren’t sure whether you could trust him. You already felt like you were betraying yourself by being attracted to someone in the first place, and you felt yourself questioning whether he was even a good guy based on your previous types of men. But there just seemed something about him that you couldn’t ignore.

You supposed that you would find out later if you’d regret that.

“I’m glad that you said yes.” Charlie whispered, his voice calm as he spoke to you.

You were both in a small patch of grass, laying down on your backs as you looked at the moon and the stars. The past three dates that you had with him were absolutely perfect. Charlie asked about your interests, didn’t talk over you, and was a generally respectful guy. He brought you flowers on the second date after you mentioned what your favorite ones were. You later found out that he kept one of them to make sure he knew when yours were dying, in which case he sent you another bouquet with a different type.

Overall, he seemed like a really, genuinely, good guy.

“Yes to what?” you asked, looking over at him. Your face flushed again as you realized he’d been looking at you the entire night, a small smile appearing on both of your faces. “What?”

“The first date.” he whispered, chuckling as he turned on his side completely to face you. “You said yes to go out with me. I think asking you was the best decision I’d ever made.”

“I don’t think you mean that.” you chuckled, though both of you knew that it was dull.

“Why wouldn’t I?” he asked, gently tilting your head back to face him. His eyebrows furrowed as he looked into your eyes, and for a moment, you felt like he was looking directly into your soul. “Is there something you want to tell me?”

“I don’t,” you mumbled, before sighing. You knew it would come up sooner or later if this went any further. And as much as you wanted to keep him and cherish what you thought was the perfect guy for as long as you could, you also felt guilty for trapping him into something with someone he might think as normal. “I’m not normal.”

“Nobody’s normal.” he hummed gently. “But that just,”

“No, Charlie.” you said, sitting up. You cleared your throat as you watched him sit up with you, trying your best to speak. “I had a really bad life so far. My, my mom had this really bad boyfriend, and my grandma was really religious. Like, dangerously. And all the foster homes and bad friendships I’ve had, and everything is just,”

“Y.N.” he said, hand holding yours again. “You had a bad childhood. I’m assuming really bad by the amount of people you threw around, but that doesn’t mean anything.” he whispered. “And it certainly doesn’t mean you have to spill on the third date, okay?”

“You,” you mumbled, unsure of what else to say. Could he get any more perfect?

“Yes, me.” he smiled softly. “If you really want to tell me, then you can. I’m not saying you can’t. But I don’t want you to feel like you need to just because you’re interested in me. That’ll come with time, we can learn together.”

“You’re perfect.” you whispered softly, sniffling.

“Let’s not go that far.” he smiled, pulling you in a hug to try and prevent your tears.

“Charlie?” Fred asked, walking up behind you dramatically. “Really, Y/N?”

“What?” you asked confusedly, not sure what he meant. You hadn’t even caught the first word that he said.

“Charlie!” George said, popping up on your other side. “You’re going out with our brother!”

Your face made an ‘o’ shape before you nodded, not sure what they were going to say next. In all honesty though, you didn’t care.

Charlie had asked you out about two months ago, after around three months of seeing each other. You originally asked whether he wanted to date you after your fourth date, to which he quickly stated that he wanted to earn your hand in dating. That alone would’ve been enough to make you say yes, much less the next three months after.

And although you’ve had your mishaps, he’s still listened and learned. He was a genuinely good guy, one which sometimes made you doubt or reconsider everything about yourself. Even still, he reassured you whenever that happened, and made sure to communicate with you as well.

“What about me and Charlie?” you asked, your eyebrows furrowed. You weren’t sure what they were going to say, but you knew that you were ready to defend it with your life.

“We mean that if he tries to do something, then mum will get mad at us for beating him up!” Fred complained, George throwing his hands in the air. “You’ve kept us out of trouble one too many times, now you’re setting us up for it!”

“Well, I don’t think you’d have to worry about that.” you mumbled. “Charlie’s a good guy.”

“Good guy?” Fred said, shaking his head at that. George shook his head too, hands wrapping you up in a hug. “You’ll think that until he starts pranking you when you move in together.”

“Maybe he only pranked you two out of retaliation.” you suggested, chuckling softly at them both.

George gasped at that, looking over at Fred. “You’re right!”

“We should prank him back!” Fred said.

“How about we don’t?” you suggested, chuckling as they both deflated like dying balloons.

“Well, on the plus side,” Fred said, his eyebrows wiggling much like a worm trying to crawl out of the dirt. “When you two get married, you’ll officially be our sister!”

“I don’t think Ginny’ll be too happy you’re replacing her.” you said.

“It’s not a replacement, it’s an upgrade!” George joked, smiling as Fred clapped along to that thought. Both of them quickly hushed though as a pillow was thrown their way, Ginny running them both out of the room with her wand in hand.

“The nerve of those two.” she muttered, rolling her eyes as she faced you. “Can you believe them?”

“I’ve dealt with it for about seven years.” you sighed, shaking your head as you looked down to the ground. “I deserve compensation.”

“Don’t we both?” she chuckled, bumping you with her arm. “In all seriousness though, I’d like to have you as my sister.”

“Really?” you asked, smiling softly at her.

“Really!” she said before chuckling. “I mean, I’m sure Harry would too. Ron said that he’s planning on proposing sometime soon, and he’s always viewed you as a sister. Plus, you’re probably the best sisterI’ve ever had myself, and you’re not even my real sister! I mean, there’s only so much that my brothers really do, and I rarely feel comfortable talking to mum about my issues.”

“You don’t?” you asked, not sure whether that was a cause for concern or not.

“She’s just,” Ginny muttered, shrugging. “Old. I don’t know if that’s a mean thing to say, but it’s true! Like a culture shock kind of thing?”

“I get it.” you smiled, nodding at her words.

“Yeah.” she smiled, before patting your shoulder. “Make sure to take care of Charlie too. Those dragons really do a number on him, I’ll tell you!”

You nodded, before swallowing another sip of your drink. Ginny walked off after that, sitting down on the couch with Harry and Hermione. You were still stuck in the corner, as usual, though a part of you felt more willing to get out than before.

Maybe Charlie really was changing you.

“Do you want to deal with my family for Christmas?”

Charlie and you had moved into a small flat together recently, and the days had been complete bliss. The only thing that really separated you was work, though you always managed to find a way back into each other's arms again.

“Why wouldn’t I?” you asked him.

“They’re loud.” he shrugged back, placing the letter that his mother had sent him down in front of you. She had sent you one separate, since only the twins, Ginny, and Harry knew you were dating him. “Plus, mum is really touchy.”

“I’ve dealt with it for years.” you shrugged simply. The twins had always invited you over for Christmas every year, and she was just as physically loving as one could get.

“Doesn’t mean you have to.” he reminded you, his face just as gentle as ever.

You looked up at him with a small but grateful smile, feeling a part of yourself healing with every time you two talked or touched. “I know.”

“So you’d want to?” he asked, taking a small bite of his yogurt. “I can buy you those noise cancelling headphones as a gag gift, you pretend to put them on. Or just some charmed earplugs that only zone in on someone talking to you.”

“I think those earplugs sound nice.” you smiled, leaning forward a bit as you looked at him with all the heart eyes you could ever muster.

“Perfect, earplugs it is!” he smiled brightly, standing up a bit straighter once he finished his yogurt.

Christmas at the Weasleys was always a loud event. Everyone was busy hauling packages left and right, the tree absolutely stoked to the brim. Mrs. Weasley was the loudest of them all, the seasonal stress making her absolutely panic over everything that she could.

Even with the earplugs that Charlie had made for you, you still eventually found yourself sitting on the back porch. Everyone had been enthralled in dinner, enjoying the meal as you expertly sneaked off to get some fresh air. The scents and the sounds were always overstimulating, just as much as the constant rubbing against your skin from ugly sweaters and sweaty bodies.

You probably shouldn’t have expected to stay out there for long though, you realized, since Charlie seemed to always notice whenever you went away.

“You okay?” he asked, sitting down on the porch step next to you.

“Just too much.” you mumbled, resting your head on his shoulder.

“That’s okay.” he whispered, wrapping his arm around you. You nuzzled into his grasp closer, feeling comforted by any form of contact you could muster. “You wanna go home?”

“I don’t know.” you whispered, rubbing your hands together.

“That’s okay.” he repeated, kissing your forehead. “You ate something at least, right?”

“Mhm.” you nodded. “Made sure of it.”

“Good.” he said, his hand caressing your waist.

You both sat in silence for a while, his arm resting around your body as your head leaned itself onto his shoulder. Even with the freezing cold weather outside, you still felt rather warm yourself. Your eyes closed themselves as you both nuzzled closer, the moon rising higher in the sky the longer that you both sat outside.

It was then that you truly knew what Charlie meant to you.

Not only was he your boyfriend, the love of your life that you never knew you would even find on the Earth that you once hated, but he was also home. He was the lifeline you found yourself always able to rely on, just as you were his. Being with him felt safe and loving, a home that you had been missing out on for years.

And while you were sad you didn’t have it before, you were certainly glad you had it now.

AUTHOR'S NOTE

HELLOOOOO EVERYONE thank u guys so much for reading this, it's a lot longer than my usual fics but i just felt that it felt a little unfinished you know? i might maybe do a second part where molly finds out about y/n and charlie, who knows?

AS ALWAYS, please like, comment, reblog, and all that jazz! i thank everyone who does VERY dearly, very very dearly even. HAVE A GOOD DAY LOVELIES BYEEEEEE

256 notes · View notes

narrycherries · 2 months ago

Text

call it what you want ✨ pt6

And so, the battle between guilt and jealousy continues…

masterlist

word count: 4.1k

warnings/tags: harry x reader, best friends to lovers, secret relationship, angst, fluff

As you were waking up, you could feel the cover rubbing against your bare skin. You completely forgot you went to sleep naked last night, even after Harry took initiative to clean you up, you didn’t get dressed. Neither did he. His body was molded into yours, his strong arms wrapped around you.

Your eyes opened and you groaned softly, not sure of the time but the sun was peeping through the blinds. Harry felt you move a little and it caught his attention. He had been awake for a few minutes already, and he was just waiting for you. He shifted his head back to look at your pretty face. Your cheeks were flushed and your eyes were barely opened.

“G’morning.” He uttered softly, a smile shaping to his lips as your eyelids lifted open more.

You licked your lips and sweetly smiled back. “Morning.”

“How do you feel?” His brows furrowed slightly as you snuck your hand up to his face.

Your fingertips softly touched his skin before sliding up his jaw. There had been a fascination with touching him building up in you over the past few weeks and last night’s events only made it stronger. He didn’t mind, though. He quite enjoyed it.

“Pretty good.”

“Not sore or anything?”

You shook your head as your eyes shifted to his neck. You silently began to admire the veins hiding beneath his skin. The little things about him were easily becoming your favorite things.

“I can’t.. believe we actually.. did that last night.” You gently laughed as the thoughts began replaying in your mind.

“Me either.. but everything’s okay, though, right? You’re okay with it?” As usual, Harry was trying to get your total reassurance that everything was fine.

“Well.. I have to be. We can’t undo it.”

He licked his lips and swallowed the lump in this throat. “I mean.. um, you liked it?”

“Yeah..” You nervously nodded. “It was.. amazing.”

Harry gave you a sigh of relief. “Yeah? It was so amazing.”

You grinned back and let out a squeal as his mouth started to attack your face, leaving sloppy kisses across your skin.

Sometime around lunch, a couple of your friends came up with an idea of going to play tennis at the recreational courts, and although you weren’t keen on the idea.. Harry thought it would be fun. He mentioned something about missing a few days at the gym and needing the exercise. You were not thrilled about him leaving you, so you lied and said you wanted to tag along. Harry believed you when you told him it would be a fun idea.. he didn’t realize you were lying.

Even though your day didn’t go as planned, you still were able to be with him. Your plan of relaxing on the couch or in bed all day with him rotting away while watching movies would have to happen another time. It was a hard pill to swallow, but no matter what happened between you two last night.. you had no choice but to move on.

So there you were at the tennis court sitting on a bench with one of your closest girl friends, Stephanie. A few of the guys showed up but it was just the two of you girls there. You opted to sit on the bench with her and leave the rough housing for the boys. They were way more competitive anyway. Harry and your brother were on a team so they were being extra obnoxious together.

Your eyes were glued to Harry’s duffle bag sitting on the ground next to the bench. It contained his water bottle and a change of clothes. You wanted to snatch his keys up, grab him, and run for the car to escape.. but you couldn’t. Your day with him would end after this.. You came in your own car to not raise any suspicions.

“I have a confession.” Stephanie sighed heavily next to you, her sudden words pulled you from your mindless trance.

“What is it?” You asked, adjusting yourself so you were now facing her.

She grinned, then rolled her eyes to herself. “It’s so stupid. Promise you won’t tell anyone?”

You laughed, then nodding. “I promise.”

“Harry’s kind of cute.”

Her words instantly made your heart jolt. You looked to her eyes and realized that she was staring at a him. All you wanted to do was scream at her and tell her off, but you stayed still and played it cool.

“What?”

“I mean, yeah. He isn’t ugly. He’s always been cute, what do you think?”

You shifted your eyes to Harry, who was currently laughing with celebratory joy after winning the first match. Austin was mocking the other guys and waiting for them to start the new match. Harry was covered in a layer of sweat. His sleeveless shirt didn’t leave much to the imagination with its low cut sides. The hem raised every time he swung his arm up, exposing his lower abdomen. You weren’t aware of how jealous you were until just now. You licked your lips and let out a fake laugh.

“That’s weird. I’ve known him forever.”

“God knows I have no chance and I don’t actually want one.. I was just admitting my observation to you. I feel like some of our other friends would mock me and tell him.” She shrugged as her eyes dropped down to her phone. She was reading a text she received.

“Yeah.. I wouldn’t say anything to him. It’s just weird to hear.”

Stephanie smiled, then looked over at you. “So you don’t think he’s cute?”

For a moment, you had a feeling of paranoia. Was Stephanie trying to get you to say something that would lead to a confession? Was she trying to get you to admit that you and Harry had more going on than just a friendship? Was there some sort of plan or scheme your friends came up with and put her in charge of? Was something happening.. or were you just very guilty? You hated lying to the people you care about - including your family. Lying about the situation with Harry was difficult and you made you feel horrible at times, but it was your life and no one else's…

You shook off the thoughts and sighed. “No.. not really. He’s not my type.”

The following ten minutes were absolute torture for you. There was a raging fire in your gut and you knew it was pure jealously. Stephanie had never admitted anything like that to you before, regarding Harry. You wondered if she was just lying about not having a thing for him to save herself some embarrasment. There was nothing else you could think of, not even Harry could distract you. You were watching him but your brain wasn’t registering him at all.

After a while, he glanced your way and noticed you were practically pouting on the bench. He made a mental note to call for a break after this match so he could check on you. Stephanie, on the other hand, wasn’t aware of your mood. She was spending most of her time watching the guys and laughing as they missed the ball.

“I’m going to run to the bathroom, do you need to go?” She asked as she nudged your knee with hers.

“No, I’m good.”

She mumbled something you didn’t care to hear as she stood up and grabbed her small purse. She disappeared from the court and you felt a bit of relief lift off your shoulders. Harry took the opportunity to call for a break. Austin and the other guys ran off towards the bathrooms, too, leaving you two alone.

“Hey, peach.” Harry jogged over to you, smiling as you looked up at him.

“Hi.” You whispered back, huffing as he sat down next to you.

“What’s wrong? Are you getting hot?” He asked, resting his hand on your thigh.

The intimate feeling of his sweaty palm against your skin made you swallow harshly. The realization of how this would look from another’s perspective took over your thoughts. You grabbed his wrist and tried to nicely push his hand back. The intent wasn’t to be mean to him, just to silently tell him it wasn’t appropriate now.

You shook your head. “No.. I’m fine.”

Harry frowned, easily noticing that you weren’t okay. “Baby, what’s wrong?”

“Don’t call me that here.” You snapped, crossing your arms on your chest.

He had only called you that a handful of times last night, and as much as you liked it, you didn’t want to hear it. Liked would be an understatement though, each time the word slipped from his mouth your body received a wave of euphoric energy - it was like the word itself could give you an orgasm. It was a new term he started to use, and it was obviously meaningful to you both already.

“Okay, m’sorry.” He wasn’t sure why you were being this way towards him, and he didn’t want to make it worse. “Anything I can do?”

You rolled your eyes and looked at him, instantly feeling your stomach drop. You were being rude to him when he hadn’t even done anything. This was going to be the last time you saw him for a few days and you didn’t want to end it on a sour note. You let your angry pout fade away and your eyes fall back to your lap.

“I can’t tell you what’s wrong.”

“Who said you couldn’t tell me?” He asked, slipping his hand onto your lower back. He knew that showing affection would be risky, but he didn’t care anymore. You weren’t okay and it was worrying him.

“I said.”

He moved his hand under your shirt and that made you anxious. Your brother could easily come back from the bathroom within seconds and witness this.

“Peach.. don’t be upset, okay? Whatever it is.. just ignore it.”

“I can’t ignore it.” You huffed back, still slightly annoyed.

Harry leaned into you and pressed a kiss to your temple. “You let things worry you too easily, love.”

“Just forget it.” You mumbled back, pushing him away from you.

He stood up, deciding to leave you alone. The last thing he wanted to do was upset you any more than you already were. If he had something wrong, he figured you’d tell him. So maybe it wasn’t him.. maybe something else had happened and you were being stubborn. That was exactly what was happening..

When Stephanie returned, you had hoped she wouldn’t bring Harry back up. Unfortunately, she did. You were focused on Harry as he swung his arm back to hit the tennis ball. Her sudden talking interrupted you.

“You know.. I got to thinking.. Harry’s never really had a relationship, at least not since I met him.”

You clenched your jaw and tried to think about something else as you replied. “A lot of our group haven’t been successful with those.”

“Hm, he must be.. like bad in bed or something. He’s too attractive to be single.”

You were somewhat repulsed by her comment. Even if you had no feelings for Harry at all, you wouldn’t say something like that. His sex life was definitely none of her business and making statements on it was weird.

“Or maybe he’s so good that he doesn’t want to be tied down.” She added.

“I mean.. I don’t really think about that when it comes to any of my friends. He probably just can’t find anyone decent around here.” You said with a shrug, pretending not to care.

“Well, Heidi found someone. You’re in the wedding, right?”

You were glad she moved past Harry again. “Yeah.”

“It’s in what, like, four weeks?”

“Something like that.”

Stephanie started to mumble about the wedding but you didn’t care to listen. Harry let out a heavy groan that caught your attention and reminded you of what occurred last night. You bit down on your cheek and watched closely as he struggled to hit the ball again. He was straining himself and you were concerned with him pulling a muscle. The exact same thing happened to you during the last baseball game, and that cramp was not fun to endure.

“Have you been talking to anyone recently? I remember you telling me about that one guy a few weeks back.” Stephanie stepped in the way of your fixation yet again.

“Um, not really. He was nice, but he was weird.”

She laughed a little. “Too weird for our friends? Have you met us?”

The truth was that you were talking to a guy recently but things ended abruptly on your end. You blocked his number and decided to not say anything about ending the situation to him. You had only met him once and there were no plans for a date. Besides, Harry completely took over that area of your life and he was worth way more than some guy you met at a bar. He wasn’t weird or unattractive or anything along those lines, but you simply weren’t interested. The day Harry kissed you, everything changed.

“Ah, fuck!” Harry yelled out.

You jumped up, terrified to know what had gone wrong. You were becoming more angry with Stephanie because she kept distracting you from Harry. Despite being concerned, you refrained from rushing to his side.

“Time for a break!” Austin said through a laugh.

“I’ll take his spot!” Stephanie said excitedly as she grabbed her own racket and joined your brother on the court.

Harry plopped down on the bench next to you, but not as close as before, with his hand gripping his upper arm tight. You swallowed the lump in your throat and scooted closer.

“Are you okay?”

He huffed. “Caught a cramp.”

“Do you want some water? You’re all.. sweaty.”

He nodded, his eyes still hadn't met yours. You reached into his bag and grabbed his water bottle. You popped open the cap and handed it to him.

Your stomach filled with butterflies as you watched the water run down his chin and drip onto his thighs. He was messily throwing the bottle up, sloshing water all over the place.

“If you weren’t so competitive.. you wouldn’t try so hard and hurt yourself.”

“M’not hurt. It’s just a cramp.” He made a weird face that rubbed you the wrong way. It reminded you of one of your brother's annoying sarcastic faces..

“I’m just saying..”

He didn’t reply, which sort of hurt your feelings a bit more. You were rude to him earlier but you didn’t think it would cause him to be the same way towards you. Normally, he does whatever he can to make you smile or laugh or feel better. Right now, he was giving you exactly what you gave him.

“Do you want me to massage it?”

He let out a breath that seemed more like a sigh. “You don’t want us to touch here, so.. no.”

For some reason - one you weren’t ready to admit to, your emotions were on edge and you felt your heart crack. Harry was never mean to you, he hardly ever said anything negative to you. He’s never really raised his voice or stayed mad at you before. You didn’t like this.

“Okay.”

He sat the bottle down on the ground and leaned his back against the bench. You didn’t know what to say, so you just kept your eyes on him. He was staring off, mindlessly watching the new match. Part of you was worried that he was hurt and he was just lying about being okay, while the other half was nervous that you were annoying him.

Harry’s roaming eyes caught your stare and he furrowed his brows, unsure of why you were looking at him the way you were.”Why are you staring at me?”

The coldness of his words made your stomach fall. You looked down to your lap and instantly everything shifted. You could feel your face reacting as the emotions rushed through your body. All you wanted to do was cry.

“You don’t have to be so mean..” Your voice was gentle, and you got his full attention when you stood up from the bench and walked towards the gate.

You heard footsteps behind you, but you didn’t stop. The destination was the women’s bathroom where you could get some alone time. Harry was hot on your trail though and just as you reached the door, he grabbed your waist and spun you around.

Instantly, he frowned. Tears were swelling in your eyes and your cheeks were red. He knew they weren’t just red from the sun..

“Hey, why are you getting upset?” He asked in a calm voice, one much more pleasing than what he spat out moments ago.

“You’re being mean.” You tried to push his hands down but you weren’t strong enough.

“I wasn’t trying to be. I’m just tired.”

You shook your head. “I was mean to you and you have every right to dish it back out.. but I hate it.”

“Hey, I’m not being mean to you. I’m sorry if it sounded that way.”

Harry didn’t care where you were at, he wanted to comfort you. His hand moved to press against your jaw and you let out a sad whimper. He felt a wave of guilt flood his body. Maybe he spoke with a tone he didn’t realize he had used..

“Peach, don’t cry. I promise I’m not mad at you or being mean, okay? You can be mean to me all you want. But I’ll never be mean to you, baby.”

You whined, frustration building up. “Don’t say that, Harry.. someone could hear you.”

“There’s nobody around us. Relax.”

“I don’t want people to know right now.”

He put his other hand in the small of your back, guiding you closer to him. “I know, I know.”

“Then stop.. being this way right now.” You scratched at his wrist but he still didn’t move his hand.

“I’ll stop if you tell me you understand that I wasn’t trying to be mean to you.” His eyes were pleading with you.

As much as you thought he was being that way, you knew he would never intentionally do anything like that. You could treat him like the worst human on the planet and he’d still worship the ground you walked on - even before he ever kissed you..

“I know, Harry.”

“Promise?”

“Yes.” You nodded, and sighed in relief as his hands left your body and he took a step back.

“Thank you for offering to take care of me, peach.” He said with a smile that made your heart skip a beat. “But I’m okay right now.”

“Just don’t want you to be hurting.”

He chuckled and licked his lips. “I know. You’re too sweet, hm?”

“Shh.”

“Sorry, sorry.” He knew none of your friends were around, but he opted to make you happy.

“I should’ve stayed at home.” Your words made him furrow his brows and slightly frown.

“What happened earlier, hm?”

You groaned and bolted your eyes shut. It felt like steam was rolling from your ears and you were about to explode. Harry could tell that whatever occurred had really made you upset.

“Stephanie said something stupid.”

“Stupid?” He lifted a brow, not believing that was the whole story.

“Yes. Stupid and it pissed me off.”

Usually you were very vocal and stood your ground when someone said something you didn’t like, even if it was one of your friends. But Harry didn’t notice any kind of confrontation earlier. Was it not stupid enough to warrant a verbal protest from you?

“What did she say?”

“It was.. just something rude.”

He lifted his brows as your eyes found his again. “About you?”

He knew that you and Stephanie were close, so the thought of her saying anything mean towards you or about you was hard for him to imagine. You let out a deep sigh and shook your head.

“No.. about you.”

He chuckled, sort of shocked. “Me?”

Harry expected you to give him a short answer, maybe even avoid saying what was actually said. But you surprised him again by rambling out the situation to him. He listened and watched your expressions switch from annoyance to anger to disbelief..

“Just.. she just said she thought you were attractive and she asked me if I thought you were cute.” You rolled your eyes and clenched your jaw for a second. “I kept telling her that I don’t see my friends that way. Then, she kept going. She said something about.. being surprised that you were single and maybe it was because you were bad in bed, or maybe too good, and I kept cringing and telling her it was weird to think about that.”

Harry licked his lips and slowly exhaled as the story unfolded before him. He noticed how irritated you were, how red your face had turned and how hard you were tapping your foot on the concrete. It was sort of amusing to him, but he refrained from laughing. You were being serious, and he didn’t want to make you think you were over reacting.

You turned away from him and threw your hands in the air, your attention was now on your own thoughts as they fell from your mouth.

“What kind of person says that about their friend? I mean, it’s nobody’s business what any of us do or don’t do or whatever, it’s so stupid. She really, really pissed me off.”

“I-“

You cut him off, not even realizing he was trying to speak. “This is why I don’t want to tell anyone about this shit because they’re so judgmental. Just because she thinks you’re cute doesn’t give her the right to say creepy things about you. And then have the nerve to ask me what I thought.”

Harry reached for your hand as your arm fell down, but you moved too quickly for him. You were facing him again, that same irritated pout on your face. He figured since you were quiet now, he’d take the opportunity to speak.

“You’re just a little jealous.” He grinned.

“Harry.” You huffed, not pleased with his amused expression.

“You’ve always been a bit jealous when it comes to me, yeah? Even before.. everything happened. And I’m the same with you.. it’s okay.”

Even though you knew he was right, you didn’t want to hear him say it out loud.

“I.. I’m not jealous.”

He scoffed and shook his head. “Yes you are.. and I would be if one of the guys said that about you.”

You groaned and balled your hands into tight fists. “I almost.. exploded. I wanted to tell her to shut the fuck up.”

He chuckled back. “Well I’m glad you didn’t, peach.”

Telling him how you felt sort of made the frustration fade away. You were still annoyed and rubbed the wrong way by the things that were said, but other thoughts were taking over. What if you didn’t control yourself earlier and you lashed out? Would Stephanie think you were just taking up for Harry and calling out her rude behavior or would she read into it more? Would she suspect you had feelings for him? The anxiety was building up immensely.

A sigh slipped from your mouth as your eyes fell to the ground. “This is.. hard, Harry.”

He wanted to wrap his arms around you and assure you everything was fine, but he was respecting your wishes of not showing affection publicly. So, he just gave you a gentle smile instead and kept his voice low.

“I know.. just remember that you’re the one in control.. Whoever you want to tell, whenever you want to tell them.. it doesn’t matter to me.”

You shook your head. “No, I’m not telling anyone right now. I’m not ready.”

“I know, and that’s fine.”

You figured it was time to return to the court. “She better not ever say anything like that to me again.”

Harry laughed louder this time. “You’re cute when you’re jealous.”

He laughed even more as you rolled your eyes and walked past him, ignoring his comment. He followed you back to the court, a smile stuck on his lips as he thought about your jealousy. It was sort of attractive in an odd way. The thought of you being protective over him was intriguing. No matter what though, he knew that if he were in your shoes.. he would’ve been just as jealous.

[a/n: sorry I’ve been away for a while.. had a lot of personal things happen back to back that wrecked me.. anyway, here’s a little update :) I know it’s not very long or filled with smut but pls remember this is a series that will have multiple part that aren’t smut. thanks for coming back for this one! More to come soon ❤️]

taglist: @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @victoriasigaard @ariiscringe @harlowsgirl @lomllover @haniaaa04 @sideboobrry11 @tenaciousperfectionunknown @fangirl509east @fruity-harry @storyschanging @tpwk-kiley

#harry styles #harry #harry styles smut #harry styles x reader #one direction #harry styles blurbs #harry styles stuff #harry styles fanfiction #harry smut #best friends to lovers #Harry styles friends to lovers #harry styles series #harry styles one shots #angst #fluff #smut #harry styles fic

190 notes · View notes