#seamus x reader

[ibbythebee]

hi!! can you write a seamus x reader one shot where he sees reader getting closer to ginny and gets all pouty cause he never thought he'd be jealous of someone younger than him but eventually he gets his head out of his ass (maybe ginny herself does it for him cause she's tired of them pining or whatever) and confesses to reader

totally okay if you dont feel like it btw cause i know you dont usually write for seamus

a/n: Yabsolutely! Thank you so much for your request, anon. I'm up to write for any of the Harry Potter bois. They all deserve some love. Can I also just say, that I love Seamus' rings.

Green-Eyed

gif credit: @X_phantomhorseman_X on wattpad

pairing: Seamus Finnigan x Reader | best friends to lovers

summary: Seamus shouldn't be jealous of Ginny spending more time with you. You're just a friend to him, nothing more... right?

genre: a good dose of fluffy angst

warnings: jealous Seamus, slightly possessive, pining, 'spud' nickname, Ginny and Seamus banter, little bit o' good old kisses

words: 3.8k

masterlist

»»————-　⌁　————-««

There you are again, doubled over at something Ginny’s told you. You’d just gotten back from a Quidditch game, and to Gryffindor’s delight, they’d won the game.

It was intense, exhilarating, thrilling. Gryffindor won for Godric's sake, so why—

“—do you look so down?” Neville inquires, settling himself on the couch next to the said teen.

The Irish boy doesn’t do much but sigh and shrug, leaning a cheek on his fist and staring into the fire pit.

"It's the O.W.Ls coming up, isn't it? Yeah." The dark-brown haired boy nods as if he's just said something genius. "I can't say I'm any good at Transfiguration, but I'll definitely help you with Herbology."

Seamus still doesn't react, intently listening in to what might be so funny for Ginny to say to make you laugh so much. Just the sound of you giggling across the common room is causing his heart to skip. He should be the one making the jokes. He should be the one to see how beautifully you grin, how the bottoms of your eyes water once your laughter turns into wheezes of breath.

Dean appears into the Irish boy's vision, and he has to force himself to look up at his tall friend.

"Damn. Why the long face Seamus?" Dean asks with a soft frown.

The said boy only huffs in response, and shakes his head to return his focus to the dancing flames.

"Oh I know what it is..." Dean nods as if he's just said something genius and situates himself between his friends. "It's the O.W.Ls isn't it?"

"That's what I said!" Neville chirps. "Come on Seamus I'm sure you'll be fine. For now, let's just celebrate our Quidditch win."

"Yeah mate, you don't have to look so—" Dean goes to tap his friends shoulder and is instead rewarded with a glare.

"I'm fine, alright?! Nothin's going on. Not the stupid O.W.Ls or class or anythin'. It's nothin'."

The voice he hears next has his stomach in a twist and the tips of his ears turning red.

"What's nothing?" You come out of nowhere, face just inches away from his. You giggle when you see Seamus flinch at your sudden appearance.

He wants so badly to steal you away. Like you used to do when you were in your early teen years. You both loved to just run together, to be outside and be loud. He so badly wants to just take your hand and run off somewhere, away from everyone, away from Ginny.

He'd initially been able to tolerate the youngest Weasley hanging out with you when you had began to talk to each other more often in your third year. He was ecstatic to see that you were getting along with more girls in Gryffindor, but then it got to the point where he began to feel neglected. Where he felt he was second best. Where, when he'd invite you to hang out, you'd tell him that Ginny had already asked you.

"Nothin's nothin'," he answers, standing up with another huff. He runs a hand through his hair and when his eyes dart to yours, your smile is gone and your eyes have softened.

"Is... everything alright?" you ask. Gosh, why is it that anything you say or do now gets his stomach feeling funny?

"I... I said I'm fine," he glances around at his friends, all of them look concerned. Even Ginny who's standing beside you has her brows pulled together.

He looks to you last, eyes lingering on yours for longer than a few seconds. And you look so worried, and he hates it when you're sad. But then he sees Ginny's arm thread through yours and so he combs his hair with his fingers again, voice dropping in volume. "I think I'm just gonna call it a day. Night guys."

Dean, Neville and Ginny chorus in 'goodnights'. You, on the other hand, freeze in place until he begins to walk in the direction of the stairs to the dorms.

You catch the sleeve of his robe and thankfully he doesn't pull away immediately, despite how agitated he looked just seconds before.

"Let's talk about it tomorrow okay? Just us two." You utter. And when he doesn't say anything, you continue gently. "Sleep well, stinky."

With pursed lips, he smiles. "You too, spud."

You watch him walk away, his robe slipping out of your fingers. You stay there staring, until the last bit of his clothes disappears behind the wall of the stairs.

"What was that all about?" Dean asks beside you. "I don't think he's ever been this stressed for a test."

"I don't think that's the reason," Ginny squeezes your arm. She gives you a knowing sort of look, only you have no idea what she's trying to insinuate through her eyes. "Come on, you said you'll chat to him tomorrow, I think it's best we all get to bed. I'm sure he's fine."

"You don't think I said something to him? Have I said anything to him to make him so mad?" You murmur to her. "Oh no, what have I done Ginny?"

"Hey, hey, hey. Shut your mouth right now," her brows pull together when you pout. "You know he's not gonna stay mad at you for long. He never does. You know that."

"But, what if I actually did do something wrong and he... and I haven't even said sorry and he..." An ocean of worst case scenarios flood your brain and you're not sure if you want to talk to him tomorrow, fearing that what he might say will break your heart. Fearing that you'll lose him forever.

Ginny rolls her eyes gently, and pulls on your arm to lead you to the dorms, away from the ears of your nosey classmates and peers. "He doesn't hate you. And he won't hate you. Ever. I just know it, so please stop worrying. Please stop thinking so much... hey, I can see you thinking. Stop."

She taps your head, the place between your eyebrows and it's as if she's just pressed a restart button.

You spring back into action, back straight, eyes less droopy, no more pout.

"There." Ginny says, letting go of your arm as she turns to her dorm room.

You send her a weak smile, and she returns with her own, a more motherly sort of grin.

"It'll be okay, you and him are gonna be just fine tomorrow. Plus, he still called you 'spud'."

"You're... you're right!"

"I'm always right," she makes a show of blowing you a kiss and then opens the door, closing it in front of her until you can only see her face between the wall and the edge of the door. "Goodnight!"

You catch her 'kiss' and hold it to your heart with a theatrical sigh. "Goodnight, genius. Enjoy dreaming about Harry."

»»————-　⌁　————-««

That night Seamus had only one thing on his mind. Dean pressed on to try and get an answer out of the Irish boy as to why he's been acting so strange lately. When there was no notable answer, the taller boy gave up and rolled over to sleep. Seamus, would eventually surrender to his pillow, however then wake up an hour or so later. Such a pattern presented itself that night as he thought meticulously about what sort of answer he'd give you tomorrow, he thought about whether he should lie or tell the truth.

He could tell you the truth, the whole truth; then there's the risk that you won't accept him. That you'll grow even further away from him. That all these years of being inseparable, all these years of being comfortable with one another could fall down the drain in a few words.

And then he could lie. But you don't deserve to be lied to. He hates lying, especially to you.

Seamus is simply in too deep. He thought that this pathetic jealousy over Ginny, a girl a year younger than him, would simmer down over time. It's only grown since. And he hates the way he hates how well you and her get along. He hates how much he envies the smiles you give her, the laughs, the time with her even.

He hates it all because Ginny doesn't deserve any of it. He hates it all because he sees how genuinely happy and excited you are to see her everyday, and you don't deserve to lose a beautiful friend like her, just because he's absolutely fallen head over heels for you.

He has to tell you the truth. Even if you'll never talk to him again, even if his heart breaks into a million pieces, he's going to tell you everything.

Someone's shakes him awake and he groans, rubbing at his eyes and yawning hard. When Seamus' vision finally adjusts to the new morning light, he finds Neville in front of him already in his uniform, smiling down at him.

"Morning, Seamus."

"Hey Neville."

It's a routine. Neville being the morning-person of the friend group, it was decided since their second year that he would be the other boys' alarm clock, so that they could go to breakfast together. If only he'd be able to wake you too, so you could tag along.

As Neville wakes the rest of the group, Seamus is quick to get himself ready for the day. Despite his restless night, his eyes don't look very sullen, he actually looks alright. So he smiles at the mirror, and slips on his rings, those ones that you love. Ever since you complimented them in his second year, a day didn't go by where he didn't wear them.

Dean, Neville and Seamus all make it to the Great Hall and situate themselves by Harry, Ron and Hermione. Even Ginny's already there.

Seamus cranes his neck, but he doesn't see you anywhere. Like a magnet his gaze is pulled toward the Weasley girl and she waves her hand, motioning for him to come to her side.

As the rest of his mates tuck in, he carefully makes it to Ginny and sits on the opposite side of the table.

"Hi," he says.

"Hi."

"Is there... somethin' wrong?"

"Yeah." She simply says and lowers her voice as she leans in closer to his direction. "I know what you're so upset about. And there's no shame in admitting it."

"What are you talkin' about?"

To mask the intentions of their conversation, Ginny picks up a hash-brown and starts to chomp on it. "You know what I'm talking about. There's a reason why I didn't wake up Y/N this morning. I wanted to talk with you alone before she gets to."

"Stop bein' so vague, Ginny. Just tell me what's goin' on." He tries hard to keep his voice calm but firm, remembering that she is also your most beloved friend and he shouldn't be so envious over her. "I'll stop walkin' on eggshells if you promise to too."

"Agreed." She swallows the last bit of her hash-brown and turns to him. "You need to tell Y/N that you like her more than a friend."

Taken aback by her bluntness he coughs into a closed fist and fills his goblet with some juice. "Right. Well. Straight to the point. I was gonna tell her anyway."

"You were?"

"After I sort of yelled at everyone last night, I did a lot of thinkin'."

"That never ends well."

He sends her daggers and she grins back. "I was thinkin' that she deserves to know the truth of what's happenin'. I'm tired of... holding it in."

He wasn't going to admit to her that he's completely tired of being envious over her. Besides, she probably already knows that. With that grin on her face, she definitely knows.

"Good then. I'm glad," she says with a nod. "And for the record sorry not sorry for stealing her away from you."

He wants to glare at her again, but instead he chuckles with a shake of his head. "I can understand wantin' to steal her away. She's... she's brilliant."

"Don't tell me that. Tell her that." With a flick of her chin, Seamus' attention is turned to the entrance of the Hall and he sees your form sauntering in.

Maybe it's because he's going to tell you the truth today, maybe it's because the sun rays pooling through the windows are illuminating your figure like an angel who's just come down from heaven, but you look more beautiful than ever. And when you find his eyes and smile, that toothy giddy sort of smile, Seamus almost stumbles out of his seat to stand.

"Mornin' spud," he runs his fingers through his hair.

"Hi stinky. Did you sleep okay? Are you... feeling a little better?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. I just uh... are you good to talk now or do you want to eat first?"

"Oh, well we can..." You find Ginny waving at you from behind the Irish Boy and then she sends you a thumbs up and a nod. "We can talk now."

"Great, um..." He looks around the room, especially at the Gryffindor table and a few people turn away their gazes when he sees them watching you speak.

Witnessing you both converse so seriously wasn't a regular sight to your peers. You'd instead always be joking around, filling the Hall with noise and trying to stop Seamus from practicing his charms at the table. So, it's no surprise that they're all staring now, eager to dig up new gossip.

"You wanna go somewhere more private?" You murmur, as you step closer to him.

Feeling heat begin to burn on the back of his neck, he tells you 'yes', and without warning takes your hand and sprints out of the room. The last thing he wanted was people seeing him blush.

You yelp at the sudden action, none the less following him, not before glancing at the youngest Weasley, who's looking at you with a smirk.

Seamus takes you through the halls, and soon you realise that you've been here before. You've held his hand and ran in this way together before.

A few students gasp, stepping out when you almost collide. Each time it happens you share a laugh with him, and before you even get to your destination you're completely out of breath, small beads of sweat sticking loose strands of your hair to your forehead.

You're at the flying lesson grounds. Your favourite place when you were younger students, the best place to play tag, complain about the pettiest problems and the best place to just run around until you both can't feel your lungs.

Your feet slow once they touch grass and then to your disappointment Seamus removes his hand from your wrist and falls to the ground in a sigh. His chest moves up and down with each catch of breath.

In no time you've joined him, letting your knees buckle and landing right beside him. Fixing your messy hair, you speak with a breathless voice. "We have to do that more often. I don't know why we stopped."

"Because of Ginny."

Seamus is met with silence. And your eyes. And your pupils are asking him, 'what?' 'Why?' 'How?' 'Why?' 'Why?' 'Why?'

A small bump appears by the edge of his jaw, and then he's sitting up, so you quickly do the same. He looks ashamed; head ducked, corners of his lips turned downward, fingers fiddling with his rings.

Goodness, now that you are looking at him, now that you are actually here and ready to listen to his every word causes his heart to race. Is he really going to go through with this? The possibility that in a few minutes you're never going to want to see him again looms in his mind and when he opens his mouth, nothing comes out.

"Seamus." Firmly, you say. "Is this what you wanted to talk about? Ginny?"

"No." He finally turns to you, and the moment your eyebrow raises the tiniest bit he folds. "And yes. There's... a whole bunch of things I want to say. Ginny is one of 'em."

He expects you to respond, only silence ensues. Your gaze is stern, yet there's a hint of concern as your bottom lip is pulled between your teeth, gently nibbling.

This is it. He sighs a big sigh, and shifts in his seating position till his knee taps against yours. To his relief you don't move away, you're simply completely ready to listen.

"Okay. Firstly... this is the most stupidest thing ever. To admit out loud, you're gonna think I'm an absolute sod, but you deserve to hear it. Basically... gosh. Ever since you and Ginny have been getting closer and closer, I've been spendin' less time with you and..." He clutches onto one ring and squeezes, as if it would squeeze out all his nerves. "And to sum it up, I'm... well I'm jealous. Of her. Takin' you away from me."

Your face is unchanged, still concerned, but still solid and stern. Your eyes move from watching as his hands fiddle in his lap to his face.

"And it kinda, like, pisses me off a little how much she makes you laugh." He turns till you can only see the back of his head, and the gentle dust of pink over the apple of his cheek. "I used to be fine with it. I really did, I was happy that you made such a good friend, especially a girl after hangin' out with just us boys. But then, I just couldn't stay happy. Every time I'd see her... like take your arm or whisper something in your ear or told you a joke that only you could understand I felt... I felt like, y'know, like 'I should be the one doin' that', 'only I can make her laugh that much'. And all that stuff."

He huffs, and manages to move his attention back to his hands, so you can see how much he chews the inside of his cheek, you can see how much he's thinking but how hard it is to let it all out. So, you nudge his knee with yours to continue. To let him know that you're still listening and that he's okay.

"Last night everything came together and I've figured out why I'm so mad with Ginny. You... you can probably guess what it is. But—." With a hand combing through his hair, he takes all the Gryffindor bravery in him to meet your gaze. "I... I really like you, spud."

And all you can feel in the thump thump thump of your heart hammering through your veins.

"Now, I-I-I know that it's out of the blue, it might be weird to hear — I don't know — I don't expect an answer from you. You can hate me. You can never speak to me again, if you want, but I can't keep these feelings from you anymore."

You've never heard him speak so seriously before. So earnestly. So vulnerably. The way his eyes fall on you, you feel like screaming, like kicking your feet. You're relieved to be sitting down, because your legs feel like jelly under his gaze, under his words. Under his spell.

"I like you so much, Y/N. More than a friend."

There's so much you're experiencing internally. And like a cup that's been overfilled, you feel the trace of a line drawing from your eyes down to your chin. The way Seamus' expression softens at your reaction causes you to go overboard and suddenly you tackle him in a hug, burying your face right into his neck, just beneath his jawline. And you sob in between silly giggles as you feel his arms settle around you.

"S-Spud?"

Another round of sob-giggles ensue, as your grip only tightens. "I-I love you, you sod."

It's hard to decipher who's heart is pounding with your chests pressed to tightly together. It's practically all you both can hear other than his and your chuckles of relief.

You finally pull away from him, hands pressing into the grass on each side of his head, your knees straddling his hips.

There's no more words verbally exchanged, as his hands slowly come up to cup your jaw, a calloused thumb tenderly moving across the skin of your cheek bone to wipe a tear. When he sees you grin, he immediately reciprocates.

Those ocean eyes of his look to you with complete adoration. They're apologising to you for taking so long to confess, and they're telling you how much he loves you, with the way his eyelids slightly droop and the corners of his eyes crinkle with his smile. It's now do you realise how long and pretty his lashes are. With the help of his hands by your jaw and neck, you lean down to get a better look. You lean in till your noses touch, and then you twist your head and you're so close to him that your lips collide.

His fingers squeeze into your skin, desperate to feel more of you here. At first you're both hesitant, slow with just light touches, getting comfortable with each other's movements. Then to test boundaries, your mouths open a little wider, and he presses against you harder. So much so, you both forget how to breath.

"You taste like orange juice," you whisper.

The rumble of his chuckle reverberates against your body. "And you're just beautiful. I-I can't believe it."

"I know. How is this happening right now?"

"I suppose Ginny is the one to thank. Though I hate to admit."

You laugh, as you help each other to sit up before anyone happens to see you in your compromising position. You take his hand and begin to stand up, pulling him to your side. "Then guess what we're gonna do now?"

"Um... what?" He doesn't like the look of your smirk.

"We're gonna go back to the Hall and you're gonna tell Ginny thank you. And sorry."

"Oh, no, no, no."

You're already dragging him.

"No, no. I've used up all my bravery today, I can't face her now— she's just gonna rub it in!"

"Do you want to kiss me again?"

"Absolutely."

"Then you have to do what I say."

Good Godric, you're the only one he'll listen to, the only one he'll let to boss him around. The only one that can make him melt. Allowing you to pull him back through the grounds of the school, he feels a new sense of heat rise to his chest and neck. You're no longer friends. But you are his. And he is yours.

It's all thanks to a girl with red-hair, and for him being green-eyed.

[rainydayathogwarts]

ɢᴏʟᴅᴇɴ ᴛʀɪᴏ ᴇʀᴀ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ

ˋ°•*⁀➷ navigation

꩜ smut ❀ fluff 𖤓 angsty/angry 𖤐 funny

ʀᴏɴ ᴡᴇᴀꜱʟᴇʏ

✩ jealous, jealous, jealous girl - ron notices you upping the PDA when Lavender starts flirting with him and you decide to show her who he belongs to (꩜𖤓)

✩ popular!shy!reader - ron’s friends think you were the one who made the move but are shocked to find out the opposite (❀𖤐)

✩ the dream - ron has a dirty dream and wakes up hard next to reader (꩜𖤐)

✩ needy - needy!ron misses you because you've been taking NEWTs too seriously but he finds the perfect moment to drag you into an empty classroom (꩜)

✩ overstimulation with dom!Ron (꩜)

✩ goodbye kisses that last longer than intended (❀𖤓𖤐)

✩ opposite teams - You play a Quidditch match against your boyfriend, who's a very sore loser (❀꩜𖤓)

✩ glossy lips - Wiping off lip gloss from his lips after a kiss (❀𖤐)

✩ late to class - Ron doesn't want you to leave to class so soon and manages a convincing excuse for you to stay (꩜)

✩ unsteady desk chair - When ron's been locked in his dorm trying to finish an essay all afternoon, you decide to help motivate him a little (꩜)

✩ shameless - Ron and his gf are absolutely shameless about pda, even with their friends around. They face some friendly consequences (𖤐)

✩ the chosen one - Ron has lived in the chosen one's shadow since they became best friends, so when he gets the one thing Harry wants, he decides to never let go (𖤓)

✩ sewing kit - "The instant Ron came to you asking for help sewing a rip in his t-shirt, Molly knew you were the woman he was going to marry." (❀)

✩ i think i've seen this film before - when sirius found out that bellatrix lestrange was having a daughter, he did everything in his power to protect her. he never met her until one day she showed up at his doorstep the same way he had at the potters. but what he didn't know was that she was dating a boy who was under this very roof. (❀𖤓)

✩ buy you a drink - when ron unexpectedly meets the girl of his dreams through a one night stand, he rushes to tell his friends the next day. but unfortunately, that reveals some new information about you, the apparent love of his life. (❀꩜)

Ron won't stop complaining about Seamus and his girlfriend taking up the dorm until he's the one with a girl in there. coming soon...

ʜᴀʀʀʏ ᴘᴏᴛᴛᴇʀ

concussions and interruptions au wolfstar!daughter au

✩ Harry's bi awakening (𖤐)

✩ "you knew?" "you didn't?" - In which the twins only just find out their sister is dating Harry (𖤐)

✩ me and you - You keep telling Ron to just 'ask her out' but he won't take your word seriously until you take your own advice. Somehow, you both end up with dates... (❀𖤐)

✩ long kisses, risky places - When kissing in the library leads to something more... (❀𖤐)

✩ love, mum and dad - Harry gets the memory book you and James made for him to open on his 17th birthday, but he gets it a little sooner, and discovers things about the family he could have had (𖤓)

✩ more than anything - keeping your relationship a secret is difficult when you just can't stop staring at your boyfriend (❀𖤓)

✩ what boyfriend? - when you are bed ridden due to your period, Madame Pomfrey comes to check in on you and play match-maker (❀𖤐)

✩ summer lovin' - you decide to visit harry over the summer, playing the classic 'girl next door' so harry's uncle lets you in (❀)

✩ a job for a godparent - harry knows you're the love of his life, but he just needs to know that you want kids as much as he does. a day at his house over the summer confirms it. (❀)

✩ a motherly visit - when harry sends you another owl claiming that professor snape has it out for him, you decide to pay them a short visit (❀𖤐)

✩ second time's the charm - when you're bitten by greyback again during the battle of the astronomy tower, you find yourself with new company (❀𖤓)

✩ always the prefects bathroom - despite harry potter's presence in the prefects bathroom, you aren't stopped from taking a soothing bath (❀𖤐)

ɴᴇᴠɪʟʟᴇ ʟᴏɴɢʙᴏᴛᴛᴏᴍ

✩ snake ring - In which the twins pull you into a game of seven minutes in heaven. (❀𖤐)

✩ dry-humping Neville at a party (❀꩜)

✩ kiss and tell - In which a very aware y/n of Neville's crush on her gets the courage to make a move (❀𖤐)

✩ stolen glances - Stealing glances at each other across the room until your friends notice (꩜𖤐)

✩ strangers to friends - Neville, terrified of a scary, confident slytherin, finds out that she's more welcoming than some of his own friends... An unlikely friendship develops (❀)

✩ grim greenhouses - when you defend neville against your cousin, he is convinced he has to give you a little gift as a thank you. but what happens when you decide to thank him for his gift? (❀꩜)

✩ creepy crawlers - your usually calm and composed front breaks in herbology, but neville comes to the rescue (❀)

ɢᴇᴏʀɢᴇ ᴡᴇᴀꜱʟᴇʏ

✩ into the woods - Waking George up to go out for a morning walk at the Burrow has him feeling quite frisky (❀꩜)

✩ in this together - When you find out that your mother, Bellatrix Lestrange has escaped Azkaban, you have a crisis, thankfully short lived due to your boyfriend's care for the situation (❀𖤓)

✩ dear diary - Ron can't help his crush on his older brother's girlfriend, and catches himself in some inconvenient situations (꩜𖤐)

✩ bloody quills and teary eyes - George comforts you after your first detention with Umbridge (❀𖤓)

✩ god, i missed you so much - when you and george have spent the last few months doing long-distance, with you at hogwarts while he runs the shop, the reunion is bound to be good (❀𖤓)

✩ reasonless hatred - severus snape's daughter causes him nothing but chaos, hatred where love should be in their relationship. but she is finally given a real reason to hate her father, and she decides to give him one to hate her too (❀𖤓)

ᴏʟɪᴠᴇʀ ᴡᴏᴏᴅ

✩ I already won - even though he very much lost the game, he still won you (❀𖤓)

✩ how he reacts when you tell him you're in the mood (꩜)

✩ blood, dirt and reunions - You almost die and reunite with an old ex-boyfriend... or not (❀𖤓)

ꜱᴇᴀᴍᴜꜱ ꜰɪɴɴᴇɢᴀɴ

✩ tipsy - Seamus takes care of you when you're drunk (❀𖤐)

✩ safe in his arms - Brother!Harry Potter makes Seamus promise him to keep you safe because of how obvious your feelings are for each other (❀𖤓)

ᴄʜᴀʀʟɪᴇ ᴡᴇᴀꜱʟᴇʏ

✩ guilt trip - Charlie tries to guilt trip the reader to visit his family with him (❀𖤓)

✩ bloody introductions - When some of Charlie's siblings break in to his apartment to surprise him, they find out about his roommate/girlfriend (❀𖤐)

ᴘᴇʀᴄʏ ᴡᴇᴀꜱʟᴇʏ

✩ just a swim - Percy's partner tries to get him to break a couple of rules (❀𖤐)

✩ how they react when you're in the mood (꩜)

'For the first time in his life, Percy pushes academics aside to focus on a girl, but his family doesn't know and thinks he has gone down a dark road.' coming soon...

ꜰʀᴇᴅ ᴡᴇᴀꜱʟᴇʏ

✩ before you go -  fred weasley has relentlessly asked you out for years, but you’ve never given the younger boy a chance. not until sixth year, when he makes the compelling argument that if the date goes terribly, at least it’ll be the last year you’ll ever see him at hogwarts. (❀꩜)

✩ ready for bed - ready for bed, you didn't bother to cover your hickeys, because you had nowhere to be, right? (𖤐)

ʙɪʟʟ ᴡᴇᴀꜱʟᴇʏ

a certain malfoy au m.list

ᴄᴇᴅʀɪᴄ ᴅɪɢɢᴏʀʏ

✩ no disturbances - You and Cedric make such a cute couple that teachers have turned a blind eye to several accounts of PDA (❀𖤐)

ᴠɪᴋᴛᴏʀ ᴋʀᴜᴍ

✩ what's her face - Rita skeeter being annoying (𖤐)

ᴘʀᴇꜰᴇʀᴇɴᴄᴇꜱ

✩ someone finds out you're dating

✩ he gets turned on at the wrong time

✩ she gets turned on at the wrong time

[blackfyrerebels]

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ Harry Potter Series *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

smut = ❤️‍🔥 (please note I may forget to add the heart, so read the tags yourself)

This masterlist is mostly for my own use, but also serves as a recommendation to anyone who stumbles upon this blog, and an archive in case any fics are deleted or blogs go inactive. If you would like your fic removed please message me.

Harry's Era

Cedric Diggory

tags: #cedricdiggory No Disturbances - @rainydayathogwarts Golden Daffodils - @hirayalore "Seven Billion Smiles" - @deusfoundry Plain Sight - @softboyluvr Just You - @mirclealignr Godsend - @pariahsparadise Woes of a Prefect - @wondernimbus Fate - @wondernimbus Once Upon a Time - @wondernimbus A Ghost Story - @wondernimbus Silly Girl - @cauliflowertree Gold Rush - @irrevocableloves

Draco Malfoy

tags: #dracomalfoy Veritaserum - @wondernimbus The Minister's Niece - @mysterioushogwartsrequests

Fred Weasley

tags: #fredweasley The Desired Slip-Up - @mysterioushogwartsrequests You Belong with Me - @mssorceressupreme Anything - @ibbythebee Just One Smile - @lqveharrington

George Weasley

tags: #georgeweasley Home - @wondernimbus Meet the Weaslys - @wondernimbus Luck on Our Side - @thimbleandakiss

Harry Potter

tags: #boywholived He's Like a Poem I Wish I Wrote - @fear-less

Hermione Granger

tags: #hermionegranger Unspoken - @nickeverdeen Summer Lovin' - @panandinpain0 I Wanna Kiss Your Lips - @cauliflowertree

Neville Longbottom

tags: #nevillelongbottom Hospital Wing Hermits - @ibbythebee

Oliver Wood

tags: #oliverwood The Hate Game | Part 2- @heartthrobin C'est Magnifique - @wondernimbus "Cupid Twins" - @mysterioushogwartsrequests

Percy Weasley

tags: #percyweasley Quiet ❤️‍🔥 - @vanillesuiker Gatherings at the Burrow - @mastermindmiko

Seamus Finnigan

tags: #seamusfinnigan Green-Eyed - @ibbythebee

Marauders Era

Barty Crouch Jr.

tags: #bartycrouchjr Restless Silence - @bartonomy Tow the Line - @crescenthistory And if I Said I Could Love You, Would It Land? - @bartonomy

James Potter

tags: #prongs Begin Again - @maraudersilver Book Thief - @wondernimbus A Glimpse Beneath the Veil - @bartonomy Just My Luck - @thatdammchickennugget

Quirinus Quirrell

tags: #profquirrell Quirinus Quirrell | Reader - @delusioniste

Regulus Arcturus Black

tag: #regulusblack Tired - @wondernimbus Pause to Breathe | Part 2 - @ellecdc Tryst - @dragonfruitramune Le Coup de Foudre - @prythiansprincess "The sunshine to his clouds" - @ellecdc Dulcet - @dragonfruitramune

Remus Lupin

tags: #moony Moonlight and Mending | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 - @evermoreness note: this series can get repetitive It's Nice to Have a Friend - @crescenthistory Steady - @thatdammchickennugget "Rotten Company" - @ellecdc Mistletoe - @cassielovesdeadwizards I Want You | Part 2 - @laufeysvalentine

Sirius Black

tags: #padfoot Starry Skies, Starry Eyes - @mysterioushogwartsrequests The Bet - @evermoreness A Drop in the Ocean - @wondernimbus Those Were Your Rules - @ellecdc Puppy Love - @delicrieux

[yellowflwrss]

ALL JOKES; luke hughes

• based when luke was still playing at umich

• you decide to play a little prank on your bf where you call him your brother after you kiss him

you were on tik tok way too much. and luke was too but definitely not as much as you. he wasn’t on it to the point where he saw the lastest couple pranks when they were still very popular. so of course as his amazing girlfriend you had to pull a little prank on your boyfriend whom you loved so much.

you were sitting on the couch in the house luke shared with some of his hockey buddies. a few of them were sat on other parts of the couch watching tv with heir girlfriends who were going from talking with you and then talking with their respective boyfriends while you sat with a single headphone in on tik tok. luke had sat next to you mere moments before until he had to use the bathroom.

it was perfect timing because that’s when the tik tok pulled up on your “for you page” and gave you the idea to mess with your boyfriend.

the tik tok was of a girlfriend next to her boyfriend. she said some words and then turned to him, he kissed her and she said the words to the camera: “best big brother ever!” and he started laughing.

obviously, you began to think how luke would react to this and knew you had to film this tik tok for yourself.

luke walked out from the bathroom and began to walk over to you till you stood up “babe come here.” you told luke and like a puppy he followed you into the kitchen which was right next to the living room.

you set up your phone and turned to luke who looked at you confused. in the corner of your eye you could also see mark, ethan, seamus and gavin giving y’all some questionable looks. everyone else payed somewhat attention to the both of you with their eyes still trained on the tv.

“okay so when i turn around just kiss me.” you smile up at luke. he was pretty tall compared to you (actually very tall compared to you) so to the camera it was a funny shot.

“okay..” luke gave you a suspicious glance as he watched you step forward to press play. when you backed up in front of luke you began to giggle which made the boys in the living room chuckle and luke laugh at you suspiciously, he knew you had something planned.

“if you wanna get to me, you have to get through him first.” you managed to get out through your giggles.

“preach!” one of the boys yelled from the living room, the culprit being duke tucker. mark let out a laugh at this. the two knew this tik tok and had their eyes glued to the scene.

you turned around to luke and on cue he gave you a kiss. he tried to make it go on for longer but because of the audience before you and the fact that you were in the middle of a tik tok, you broke the kiss and turned back to the camera. “best big brother ever.” you tried to keep a straight face. from behind you both, the boys broke out in laughter and you wish you could rewatch luke’s reaction over and over again like it was the first time.

his jaw dropped as he looked at you and then proceeded to look around awkwardly. “i am not your brother.” his lack of words made the event even funnier to you and all his friends as well. the girls were laughing too and it made the scene all the greater.

luke didn’t know what to do so he grabbed your waist from behind and pulled you into a bear hug “brother?” he laughed “brother?” he repeated, still in disbelief.

“woah big bro you’re getting a little too close there.” luca shouted.

“shut up.” luke laughed as he kissed you “look at what you started.”

“STOP KISSING YOUR SISTER LUKE.”

“SHUT THE FUCK UP.”

[pucking-rowdy]

[2.8k]

blowing smoke (2/?)

pairing: luke hughes x childhood best friend!reader, ethan edwards x fem!reader summary: adjusting to life without luke and with ethan proves to be more difficult than you thought

warnings: underage drinking notes: ethan edwards i love u so much!! all my luke lovers, don't fret he'll get his comeback in part 3 :)

unedited

the rink doesn't change — the sound of pucks clattering, blades sailing across ice, and the freezing air you've grown so accustomed to throughout the years. the boys laugh and yell, chasing each other down on the ice as practice ends. you briefly catch a glimpse of some familiar faces: dylan laughing by the bench, rutger digging for his water bottle. they offer you lazy waves and bright grins as you take your usual seat.

then, you see luke.

his helmet off, curls damp with sweat and sticking to his forehead. his eyebrows are drawn tight in concentration as he listens to coach. the skin peeking out from beneath his gear is shining with a gleam of sweat, and you can't help but take notice of his broad shoulders.

he'd spent the summer working hard and eating right in an attempt to beef up before hockey season started. despite your initial annoyance at losing your late-night sweet treat buddy, you had to admit his work paid off. he looked good.

he doesn't see you. or at least if he does, he doesn't let it show.

it’s been a week since the party. since you left ethan’s room wearing one of his t-shirts and a knot of guilt in your stomach. since you passed luke in the hallway the next morning and he didn’t say a word. just brushed past you, eyes straight ahead.

"hey, sunshine."

you jump, startled out of your thoughts. you turn to see ethan. his cheeks pink from his time on the ice and hair damp from his shower. he smells like spearmint gum and the citrus body wash he swears by. it's familiar. safe.

you smile softly, "hey."

"he's still not talking to you?"

you don't have to ask who he is.

you shake your head, a tight-lipped smile on your face.

ethan huffs, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. "he's being an asshole."

you shrug, but it's stiff. "he doesn't owe me anything."

"that's bullshit," ethan mutters, more to himself. he tugs you into his side, pressing a kiss to your temple.

you used to know every corner of this rink like your own heartbeat — the annoyingly squeaky locker room door, the smell of rubber and sweat, the exact seat in the bleachers where luke always looked for you after he scored a goal. now, you feel like a stranger. and he doesn’t bother to look at you at all.

-

the kitchen is half-lit, the only light coming from a string of battery-powered fairy lights the boys had purchased after you and some of the other girls complained about sterile kitchen lights.

most of the boys are asleep by now. only a few stragglers hang out, half-sprawled across the living room, nursing protein shakes, still high on the buzz of tonight's win. you’re perched on the counter, feet swinging, scrolling through your phone while waiting for your frozen pizza to finish cooking. ethan stands between your legs, his head resting on your shoulder.

your voice is quiet, careful to not disturb his peace. "you tired?"

ethan nods, his arms tightening around you. you bring your hand up to his hair, softly stroking it.

the sound of a set of keys hitting the counter makes you jump. you turn to see luke. he doesn't say a word, but for the first time in over a week, his eyes meet yours.

there's a beat before he tears his gaze away, grabbing a water bottle from the fridge. his voice is stiff and quiet, "didn't mean to interrupt."

he leaves without another word. the oven beeps and ethan pulls away to grab the pizza, muttering. "asshole."

-

the hockey house bustles with drunk college students. shitty pop music blares through the house, reminding you that dylan was playing dj tonight. the floor is sticky, and the air smells of cheap beer and sweat as you make your way through grinding bodies.

you find mark and adam in the kitchen, both of them already plastered as they watch you grab another drink. mark slings a friendly arm around your shoulders, his other hand grasping a red solo cup full of mystery liquid.

"so, you and eddy, huh?"

adam laughs, egging it on. "yeah, he's been obsessed with you since freshman year. thank god you finally threw him a bone."

mark nods, "i was honestly getting sick of listening to him whine."

you laugh, sipping your drink. you glance up, catching emma's eye. you can feel her eyes on you, her expression unreadable.

you hadn't told her. you, truthfully, hadn't told anyone.

she lets out a bitter scoff, storming out to the back patio. you let out a deep sigh, passing mark your drink as you follow after her.

"em-"

the autumn air is cool against your skin, sharp with the familiar bite of late october. the patio is dark, lit only by the dim outdoor lights. you're the only two outside, everyone else tucked away in the warm house.

she whirls around, her blonde hair whipping behind her. her voice is stern. "don't."

you clear your throat. “i was gonna tell you.”

emma laughs, dry and disbelieving. “really? when?”

you hesitate. “i don’t know. it just… happened.”

she turns, eyebrows furrowed. “right. it just happened. and you didn’t think it was worth mentioning to your best friend?"

“i wasn’t hiding it to hurt you,” you offer, trying to sound steady. “i just didn’t want to complicate things.”

“you mean like how you’ve been dancing around luke for years but swearing nothing’s going on?”

you flinch. “that’s not fair.”

“no, what’s not fair is finding out from adam and mark that my best friend slept with ethan. and then realizing maybe she was lying to me the whole time.”

you shake your head. “i didn’t lie.”

“you didn’t tell the truth either,” she snaps. “and you know what that makes me feel like? like I’m the last to know in a life i’m supposed to be part of.”

that hits harder than you expected.

she exhales, eyes glossy now, and you can tell she’s fighting tears. “i'm not mad about ethan. I like him for you. but this? you making me feel like I’m on the outside now? that’s what hurts.”

“don’t worry,” she says over her shoulder. “you’ve got ethan now. and maybe luke, too. you don’t need me.”

your heart stutters. “this isn’t about luke.”

her face twists, like she’s trying not to cry or scream. “isn’t it?”

you blink, stunned. you open your mouth — to defend yourself, to explain — but she’s already turning. you watch her walk away, a pit in your stomach.

-

you'd met emma during your freshman year.

the dorm hallway smelled like industrial-grade lemon cleaner and nervous sweat. students and parents clogged the corridor with boxes, carts, and mattress toppers spilling out of plastic wrap. you were already sweating, trying to maneuver your suitcase through the narrow door of room 133 when you hear it:

a loud thud, followed by a muffled “shit. sorry! that was a lamp, i think.”

you peered inside the room, half expecting chaos, and find it.

a girl crouched by one of the beds, a tangled mess of blonde hair falling out of her clip as she frantically checked over a box labeled “FRAGILE (pls be nice)” in big pink letters. she glanced up at you, eyes wide, slightly panicked.

you smiled, stepping fully into the room and dragging your suitcase behind you. “you must be emma?”

she stood, brushing dust off her jeans. “in the flesh.”

she looked around the room, then pointed at the left bed. “i kind of claimed that side? but if you’re a left-side sleeper or you feng shui better that way, i’m totally flexible. i’m not a monster.”

you laughed, already liking her. “right side’s fine. less sun in the morning.”

“look at us, already compatible.”

the two of you fell into an easy rhythm, unpacking, unboxing, and decorating. emma pulled out a string of fairy lights and insisted on hanging them up immediately.

at one point, as you hung up your clothes and emma unpacked her endless supply of hair ties and dry shampoo, she glanced over at you and said, “i was really hoping my roommate wouldn’t suck.”

you grinned, grabbing a sweatshirt to fold. “same.”

“i think we’re gonna be okay.”

you didn't say it then, but you agreed. something about this, about her, felt solid. like the beginning of something good.

-

the dim fairy lights seemed to mock you now. you'd left the party, only muttering a quick goodbye to seamus casey, who was keeping out by the front door. your dorm room is quiet except for the occasional buzzes of messages you’re not ready to read just yet. emma’s side of the room is empty, and you don't expect her back tonight. the thought of her curled in luke's warm, navy blue sheets made your throat tighten.

your chest feels heavy. it wasn't about ethan, not really. you know that.

there's a knock at the door. you almost ignore it before a familiar voice calls out.

"it's eddy."

you sigh, tugging the sleeves of his hoodie over your hands. "come in."

he opens the door, stepping inside. his face is different, more careful, unsure. unlike your usual ethan who cracks jokes first and thinks later.

he takes a cautious seat at the edge of your bed, like he's not sure where he belongs in your space. he glances at emma's side of the room. "mark said you two fought."

you nod, eyes rimmed red with tears.

"she thinks i've been lying to her. that's i've always wanted luke, and i've been keeping her out on purpose."

ethan's quiet. "have you always wanted luke?"

you close your eyes. the silence stretches too long.

"do i really have a chance here? with you, i mean."

your throat tightens.

"ethan..."

"i'm not mad," he quickly clarifies, "i'm just...confused, i guess. one minute, you're curled up in my bed, wearing my clothes, and everything feels good. the next, you're somewhere else."

"i care about you," your voice shakes, "but luke's been part of my life forever, and lately everything just feels...different. i hate different."

ethan nods slowly, as if he's trying to understand. it's quiet again.

"i think i always knew," he keeps his gaze on the linoleum tile of your floor, "that...maybe i was just here because he wasn't. i told myself it didn't matter, that at least i was here."

he lets out a shaky breath and you bite your lip to hold back tears.

"it's hard. when i'm sitting here, giving you everything that i've got, and i still feel like the second choice."

you vehemently shake your head. "you're not a second choice, eddy."

"but i'm not first, either," he looks at you, so soft and understanding that you can feel tears welling, "and i think i wanted to be."

it's quiet again.

"do you want me to go?"

"no," you whisper, "i don't ever want you to go."

ethan nods slowly, taking in the meaning behind your words. he slowly moves over, lying next to you. he tugs you into his chest, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

"you deserve to be loved," his voice is soft, "even if you don't know what to do with it yet."

-

the semester was quickly coming to an end and christmas break was right around the corner. in the chaos of everything, you'd forgotten that you were due to spend christmas with the hughes family.

your parents were going out of town, and ellen hughes had graciously offered you a place with her family at christmas. at the time, you'd eagerly accepted, always excited to spend more time with luke and his family.

now, however, christmas break instilled a feeling of impending doom within you.

you let out a deep groan, laid back against ethan's pillows. he laughs.

"come on, it's not gonna be that bad."

you sit up on your elbows, giving ethan a deadpan look. he winces, "yeah, okay, it's not gonna be fun, but at least you get to see jack and quinn."

"it's gonna be so awkward," you flop back down, head hitting the soft sheets. ethan laugh again, hovering over you.

"baby, it's gonna be fine. they love you."

you let out a sigh, "gonna miss you."

ethan grins, leaning down to give you a gentle kiss. his lips are soft and he tastes like the strawberry chapstick he'd stolen from you. you grin against his lips, a wave of content washing over you.

his lips trail to your neck, pressing softly against your pulse point. "it's only two weeks. everything's gonna be okay."

-

the cold, michigan air nips against your skin, snow crunching under your boots as you make your way up the driveway. your duffel bag is slung over your shoulder, just as heavy as the feeling in your chest.

the house hasn't changed. a warm light emits from the windows, a homemade wreath is hung on the door, and you can see the faint flicker of a hockey game playing inside. it almost feels like peace again.

the door swings open before you can knock. luke stands there, his curls cut a bit shorter than the last time you'd laid eyes on him. he's wearing his favorite hoodie, one that you're surprised to see still in one piece with how much it's been worn.

for a moment, neither of you say anything.

"hey," he finally speaks, taking your duffel and letting you inside.

"hey," you reply, stepping into the warmth of the home.

ellen appears from the kitchen, wiping her hands on a dishtowel. “there’s my girl!” she beams, crossing the room to wrap you in a hug that smells like peppermint. for a moment, all the tension leaves your body.

you catch quinn's voice floating from the living room, “tell her she’s on hot chocolate duty again. she makes it better than luke.”

luke snorts softly behind you. “still not true.”

you glance at him over your shoulder, the two of you wearing matching grins. for a moment, everything feels normal again.

-

the house was quiet. jack's loud laughter had faded hours ago, quinn's holiday playlist had stopped looping, and ellen and jim had retreated to bed with cups of tea.

you sat at the kitchen counter, the dim lights casting the room in a cozy glow. a cold cup of cocoa sits in front of you. soft footsteps approach and luke's voice fills the silence.

"you made the good kind."

"didn't feel like punishing everyone with your recipe," you shoot him an easy grin because that's how things were meant to be. easy.

that earns a soft grin. he opens the cabinet, grabbing his favorite mug. "funny."

it's quiet for a minute.

then, finally, he breaks it. "so, you and ethan?"

your chest tightens. "what about it?"

"i didn't realize it was serious."

you shrug, stiff, "you stopped asking about anything."

he flinches like you slapped him, and he thinks you might as well have.

luke pours the water, fixes his cocoa the way he always does. three marshmallows, not two. he leans against the counter across from you, mug warming his hands.

“you think I stopped caring?” he asks quietly.

“no,” you whisper. “i think we're not good with change.”

he swallows hard, the muscle in his jaw twitching. “you think I liked watching you with him?”

"i just know you stopped being my person.”

his breath catches, but he doesn’t look away. he crosses the kitchen slowly, sets his mug down beside yours. “you’re still mine,” he says, barely audible.

"i miss you," you whisper back. you heart aches as you watch the way his face twists, as if he's trying not to get too emotional.

"i'm right here."

"are you?"

luke doesn't answer, not because he doesn't want to, but because he doesn't know what the answer is.

instead, he shifts a little closer, and lets his head rest gently against your shoulder.

he doesn’t move. doesn’t speak. just lets out a quiet breath and leans his cheek against you.

you lean your head atop his.

you stay like that for a while, basking in the normality of having your best friend back.

as you both sit in silence, the soft hum of the fridge the only sound between you, your phone buzzes on the counter. you glance down. a message from ethan: "did you make it there okay? miss you!"

you don't answer right away. you just stare at the screen, thumb hovering, while luke breathes quietly beside you.

[sammigrll]

thibking abt college frat boy bf Ron im spiraling he so fine i wont him🙁

frat house rules | ron weasley

warnings: underaged drinking, 18+ characters, it gets a little steamy

|an: yayyy this is a lot of plot kinda not enough dialogue but pt 2 ganna bc sm better & steamier i swearsiez this is also lowkey based on real events LOL

w.c: 1.2k

part one part two

“oorrrr…we could pregame here.” you said, finalizing the last few touches of your makeup, slight worry was laced within your words, evident to your best friend beside you, who was straightening her hair. 

“yeah, OR we could drink with a bunch of hot frat boys surrounding us,” your friend said, looking at your face for a response, which she received in a worrisome facial expression. a large sigh from her filled the room before she spoke again, “c'mon, we need to get out there more. and the guy i’ve been talking to is actually really cool. i don’t think it’s one of those freaky frats.” she’d said, already up and changing into her clothes for the night with you following her lead. 

“yeah, okay, well, i'm ready, so let’s just go.” slightly frustrated, you finished lacing your sneakers and huffed out in feigned annoyance. your friend, knowing you, smiled and rolled her eyes as you smiled back. although the thought of getting drunk with a bunch of random guys left you a little anxious, you were still excited to party with your best friend. 

“it’s all a part of the college experience, babe. i’ll be right there with you, eevenn if my tongue is shoved halfway down dean thomas’ throat.” you felt your worries begin to subside as you let out a laugh at her statement while you both walked, arms linked, out the door.

“i’m telling you, ron, total BOMBSHELL! you’ll see when she gets here for the pregame…and i think she’s bringing a friend...” dean said as he looked at ron and raised a brow.

ron laughed and shoved his friend as let out a laugh, beginning to work on inserting a tap into their keg of beer. 

“i don’t know, dean, i just got out of that weird situationship with lavender… i don’t want to seem like a man-whore or anything.. of that nature.” ron said, turning the tap clockwise into the insert until it was snug enough to his liking. 

“you mean your snogstuaonship? come on, mate, i don’t think it was that serious.” dean said, chuckling and clapping ron on the shoulder, trying to convince his friend. the only response he received was an unsure look from ron. 

“listen, man, offers on the table. i could set you up if you meet her, and if all goes well.” dean offered with a sympathetic smile, leaving ron to sit with his thoughts as he exited the room to join the other brothers in setting up for the party. 

“i think i'm going to throw up.” you told your friend as you walked up the stairs to the door of the frat. anxiety bubbled in your stomach as you heard the music that was already blaring through the walls, but the lights were still on. 

“you’re not gonna throw up.” your friend said, rolling her eyes in feigned annoyance, calling dean on the phone to let him know you guys were there.

you waited a few moments before the door swung open and the music, once muffled, was now damn near deafening. 

“girls! come in.” dean said, moving to the side and staring only at your friend with the biggest fuck-me eyes you’d ever seen. it was going to be a long night for you, you could tell. 

the pregame had gone well so far; you mostly kept to yourself and spoke only when spoken to, making light conversation as you stood in a group with your friend, dean, his friend ron, and two of their other brothers from their frat. 

you were drunk, however not drunk enough to not realize how absolutely ridiculously hot dean's friend ron was. as a matter of fact, you thought the drunker you got, the easier it would be to talk to him.

little did you know that ron felt the same. when you and your friend walked in, he gawked at you a bit before elbowing dean and giving him a sly smile. elated, dean slapped him back before mouthing an ‘i told you so.’

ron stared at you in awe, feeling a bit nervous before shooting his shot in the form of pouring you all your shots. declaring himself as your ‘drinking buddy’ for the night and taking all of them with you. He decided it would be easier to make his move drunk off his ass as compared to stone-cold sober.

you and ron were getting along so well, feeling the liquor invading both of your senses; you started getting progressively touchier as you engaged in random conversations together that derived from topics the group mentioned, because he didn’t care about what everybody else had to say, he just wanted to know more about you.

then all of a sudden, the boys decide it’s time as people start pouring in from all openings of the frat. shutting the lights off and turning the music up just a bit louder, if that was even possible. your friend immediately grabs your hand, ripping you from ron and leading you to the dance floor. 

as the night progresses, so do yours and ron’s drunken states, as you both start eye-fucking each other from the separate groups you’re in on the dance floor. feeling a warm heat pooling between your legs, as well as a surge of confidence, you decided it was time to make your move. 

your move being making eye contact with him, then looking at the bathroom a couple feet away and cocking your head toward its direction. he got the memo and shot you a goofy grin, nodding his head in agreement. 

you shuffle your way through the crowd and walk past him, stealthily grabbing his hand on the way, ripping him from his friend group, which went pretty unnoticed from his friends, and pull him into the bathroom.

“were you going to keep eye-fucking me all night or make a move?” you stated with a smile before he backed you up against the wall farthest from the door, slotting his hands under your arms and around your waist, pressing your hot bodies together. 

“regardless, it seems like i got you right where i wanted you.” he said before connecting his lips with your own. you sighed into the kiss before bringing your hand up to tangle your fingers into his red head of hair; his grip on your waist tightened as you pulled slightly on the hair laced between your fingers. 

eager for more, ron dragged his tongue along your plump bottom lip, asking for permission to elevate your kiss. you gladly let him in and let the heated kiss became messier as the sounds of smacking lips and moans filled the room. 

ron pulled away for a moment to attach his hot, wet lips to your neck, licking, sucking, kissing, and biting at the flesh as you began to whine and work on the belt of his jeans. 

knock knock knock 

you both instantly froze in your positions. fear stilling your movements as you thought, ‘maybe they’ll go away if we stay really quiet.’

knock knock knock 

“ron? you in there, man?” he heard seamus’ voice from the other end of the door. ron muttered a ‘fuck’ before remembering the rule that was introduced to him the day he was initiated.

“roonn, 10 minutes is up. you know the frat house rules, dude.” the smirk plastered on seamus’ face could be heard from behind the door.

frat house rules? 

[spencersmopbucket]

The Party & The After Party (3) | Oliver Wood

Pairing: Oliver Wood x Reader Summary: You taste the very beginning of moving on, but it isn't as sweet as you'd expect — a certain hot-headed, Scottish quidditch freak still plagues your mind. And you his. What will you do about it?

For the first time in months, you got ready with the intention of impressing someone. The last time you'd done that was right before you and Oliver had broken up.

You curled your hair, letting it fall in gorgeous spirals. You put on a small bit of makeup, but a thick layer of sticky lip gloss. And finally, you got dressed, wearing a pair of leggings and a Hufflepuff jersey. The gold and black shimmered slightly in the light of your dorm, catching your eye. The letters on the back slightly mocked you.

Usually, those letters said "WOOD" in gold letters. Today, they said "DIGGORY" in inky black. You shivered in a mix of emotions and nerves before sliding it on over your black jumper. You looked at yourself in the mirror — you looked different. You wouldn't go as far as to say odd, but.. different.

The difference was Oliver. For months, the difference had been Oliver in everything you did.

Sighing, you gathered your things and got ready to go. You heard a knock on your dorm door, walking over to open it. Lavender smiled at you brightly, reaching forward to tug on the jersey slightly.

"Cedric Diggory? Damn! Upgraded?" She teased.

You gave her a half-hearted laugh, rolling your eyes as you stepped out into the hallway. “Hardly,” you muttered, adjusting the hem of the jersey as if it would suddenly feel more comfortable.

Lavender raised a brow. “Come on. He’s hot. Like, objectively. Captain of the team, sweet, smart, charming — bit of an upgrade from grumpy Quidditch boy, no?”

You shot her a look. “He wasn’t just a grumpy Quidditch boy. And Ollie's hot too.”

“Sure, sure,” she said breezily, linking her arm through yours. “He was your grumpy Quidditch boy. I get it. I’m just saying… maybe this is good for you.”

You didn’t respond right away. The two of you made your way through the castle, laughter and chatter echoing around the corridors as everyone headed down toward the stands. Your stomach twisted with nerves — not because of Cedric, not even because of the jersey.

Because you knew Oliver would see you.

And you didn’t know if you wanted him to.

“Do I look okay?” you asked suddenly, halting near the top of the stairs to the pitch. Your fingers toyed with the edge of your sleeve, glossed lips pressed in a tense line.

Lavender blinked, then softened. “You look stunning. If he doesn’t trip over his broom, I’ll eat my wand.”

You cracked a smile. “That’s unsanitary.”

“Still true,” she said, squeezing your arm.

The sun was just beginning to dip, casting golden light across the field, and the stands were already buzzing with students waving house flags and wearing face paint. You took a breath and stepped forward, walking into the chaos like it didn’t make your chest hurt.

The moment you stepped into the stands, the noise felt a little overwhelming — too much gold, too much light, too many butterflies crawling up your stomach. You clutched the edge of Cedric’s jersey like it was a shield, trying to steady yourself as your heart pounded beneath it.

You didn’t have to search long — Cedric spotted you almost instantly.

He was standing near the base of the pitch with his teammates, already half in game-mode, but when he saw you, his whole expression changed. His eyes lit up and that signature Diggory smile spread across his face — genuine, bright, a little crooked in a way that made your knees feel stupidly weak.

He jogged over without hesitation, his broom slung casually over one shoulder, golden Hufflepuff gear gleaming under the sun. The closer he got, the harder your heart thumped.

“You came,” he said, eyes trailing over your outfit — the jersey, the soft curl of your hair, the way your lip gloss glinted.

You smiled, a little unsure. “Didn’t think I would?”

“Just hoped, really.” His voice dropped ever so slightly, warm and kind. “You look amazing.”

And then, before you could respond, he leaned in and pressed a light kiss to your cheek.

Your breath caught — not out of romance, not really — but surprise. He smelled like grass and aftershave, like effort and intention. And you could feel your cheek heat instantly.

Cedric chuckled softly at your reaction, not smug, just pleased. “Wish me luck?”

“Good luck,” you managed to say, your voice just a touch breathy.

He grinned again. “Guess I’ve already won a bit.”

Then he turned and jogged back to his team, leaving you in a stunned daze, cheeks hot, fingers grazing where his lips had been. You weren’t falling for Cedric — not truly — but it was hard not to see him. Hard not to notice how easy he was to like.

Still, despite his charm, his smile, and the way your heart fluttered a little more than you wanted it to — you couldn't stop that other part of your brain. The one screaming that somewhere across the bleachers, Oliver had definitely seen that.

Interrupting your anxious thoughts, Lavender squealed.

"You. Just. Got. KISSED! By Cedric bloody Diggory!"

You groaned, tugging her down into the bench beside you. “Lav, seriously—”

“No, don’t Lav me! He kissed your cheek! In front of, like, everyone! I thought he was just gonna say good luck or some Cedric-y gentleman thing, but he kissed you. Like—like he likes you!”

You felt your face flush. It had been soft. Sweet. A casual little peck that shouldn’t have made your heart thump, but it did. Because he did like you. And part of you, a part you were trying desperately to listen to, wanted to be liked. Needed to move on.

You smiled at Lavender half-heartedly, trying to keep your eyes on the field where Slytherin’s team was now circling like vultures, their green robes billowing dramatically. But your gaze drifted.

And then you saw him.

Oliver. Sitting several rows up in the Gryffindor section, slouched low on the bench like he wanted to disappear into the shadows—but still very much watching. His expression was unreadable from this distance, but his arms were crossed tightly, jaw set hard. The sleeves of his crimson sweater were bunched up to his elbows, and he wasn’t blinking.

Your stomach twisted.

Lavender noticed too, her smile faltering. “He’s not playing,” she said quietly. “Didn’t think he’d show, but then again.. Scouting.”

You swallowed. “Me neither.”

But he was here. Watching. And you suddenly weren’t sure if it was your nerves over Cedric, or the weight of Oliver’s stare, that made your hands shake just a little when you reached for your butterbeer.

Because even now, wearing someone else’s colors, sitting in someone else’s section — you still felt like Oliver Wood’s girl. And that terrified you more than anything.

The whistle blew on the field, signaling the start of the match, but your eyes weren’t on the game. They were pulled—inevitably, helplessly—back to Oliver. To the stiff set of his shoulders, the tense way his jaw flexed when Cedric swooped past the stands and gave you another grin.

Lavender nudged you gently. “You okay?”

You blinked, looking down at your butterbeer like it held the answer. “Yeah,” you lied.

But your heart was split down the middle. Part of you wanted to be swept up in Cedric’s easy confidence and golden smile. The other part still remembered what it felt like to wear a Gryffindor jersey three sizes too big, standing in the same stands with Oliver’s arm around your waist.

You leaned back on the bench, letting the cheers and chants around you drown everything out.

For tonight, you’d try to be the girl in the Diggory jersey.

You clapped for him, returned his charming smiles, cheered with Lavender. You tried just about anything to get into it, throw your mind into Cedric Diggory and forget the last few months of pain. It worked, for the most part. But there was a nagging part in the back of your brain that knew it was fake.

Of course, the end result for Hufflepuff was a loss. Draco Malfoy was a dirty, cheating player.

But you marveled at the fact that Cedric remained positive. He still smiled charmingly, congratulated Slytherin on their win even though their snobby arses didn't have much to say in return. At the end of the game, he approached you for a final time.

As he walked up, you almost swooned. Lavender was right. Cedric was hot, objectively. There wasn't a single girl in Hogwarts, regardless of her type, that could say Cedric was unattractive. His hair was tousled gorgeously, his face glistening with perspiration. His honey brown eyes gazed into yours as he got closer.

��Sorry I couldn’t give you a win,” Cedric said, slightly out of breath, somehow managing to look effortlessly good. “I owe you one for showing up. Especially in my colors.” His eyes dropped briefly to the Diggory on your back before flicking up again with a smile that could melt snow in December.

You shook your head, returning the smile as best you could. “You played brilliantly. Everyone saw how Malfoy grabbed your broom.”

He shrugged, humble to a fault. “That’s just Quidditch. I’ll get him next time.”

Lavender was pretending not to eavesdrop, but you could practically hear her buzzing beside you.

Cedric stepped closer, just enough that you had to tilt your chin up to meet his gaze properly. “There’s a Hogsmeade trip next weekend,” he said gently, his voice lower. “Would you… want to go with me? Just the two of us?”

You opened your mouth — hesitated. Your heart gave a confusing stutter. Cedric was gentle, humble... Everything Oliver wasn't, in some ways. And maybe that was what made it feel wrong to even pause.

But you did.

You hesitated.

“I—” You forced a smile. “I’d like that.”

Cedric grinned wide. “Great. I’ll find you later, yeah?”

You nodded, trying to ignore the ache in your chest. “Yeah. See you.”

He gave a small wave before jogging off toward the changing rooms, leaving you standing there, Lavender practically vibrating at your side.

“You’re so going to Hogsmeade with Cedric Diggory,” she said, linking her arm through yours.

You didn’t respond.

Because despite everything—his kindness, his charm, his sweetness—you couldn’t ignore the part of you that still wanted someone else to ask first.

Your walk back to the dorm was filled with confusing feelings. You just wanted to bury yourself in the ground and stay under there for years. A moment that was supposed to be happy, a moment that any girl around you would kill for. And what were you thinking about?

Your asshole ex boyfriend that chose quidditch over you.

You crossed your arms tightly over your chest, trying to hold yourself together — physically, emotionally, mentally. The Hufflepuff jersey swished around your thighs with every hurried step, a taunting reminder of your choices. Of Cedric’s sweet smile. Of Oliver’s silence.

“Ugh, I’m an idiot,” you muttered to yourself, storming up the stone steps toward Gryffindor Tower, ignoring Lavender’s confused glance behind you.

You weren’t sure what you felt more of — guilt, anger, or sheer frustration. Maybe it was all of it. All tangled up into one massive knot sitting right at the base of your throat.

You climbed through the portrait hole, stormed into your dorm, and threw the jersey off like it burned. You tossed it across the room, letting it crumple on the floor, then dropped onto your bed with a dramatic groan muffled by your pillow.

You should’ve felt excited. Cedric Diggory just asked you out.

Instead?

You felt like you’d just lost Oliver all over again.

And you didn’t know how many more times you could survive that.

You couldn't even sleep. It was only 9:30, but you wanted to get to sleep as soon as possible to forget everything that had happened. Even for just a little bit. It wasn't coming easy. The thoughts plagued you, making you frown with frustration.

You rolled over for what had to be the twentieth time, sheets tangling around your legs as you shoved your pillow aside with a huff. The soft chatter of the other girls in the dorm faded into background noise—Lavender giggling with Parvati about something trivial, the rustle of parchment, the clink of a makeup tin.

You felt like screaming.

Instead, you pulled the covers up over your head, trying to disappear inside them. Trying to forget the weight of Oliver’s eyes on you from across the Quidditch stands. The heat of Cedric’s lips brushing your cheek. The smile you gave Cedric that didn’t quite reach your eyes.

Everything about today had been wrong. So, so wrong.

You were supposed to be moving on. Supposed to feel like your heart wasn’t going to cave in on itself every time you saw him.

But that ache… it just wouldn’t go away.

Every part of this place—this school, this dorm, even this stupid bed—was stitched with memories of him. You could still hear his voice whispering in your ear during late-night talks, still feel the way his fingers used to toy with yours when he thought no one was looking. You still knew exactly where he liked to sit at meals, the way he looked when he was focused at practice, that stupid crooked grin he only gave you.

You wanted to scream. Or cry. Or maybe both.

Instead, you clenched your eyes shut, fingers fisted in the blanket, and whispered to yourself, “Just sleep. Please. Just sleep.”

But your mind had other plans—because Oliver Wood still lived there, rent-free.

Sitting up with a sharp huff, you got out of your bed, putting sweatpants and a thick jumper over your pajamas. You couldn't do this. You needed to get out for some air.

Ignoring the whispered questions from your dorm mates, you silently left.

The castle was quiet at night, just the way you liked it—empty corridors glowing dimly from enchanted torches, portraits snoozing in their frames, the occasional creak of centuries-old wood beneath your feet.

You padded barefoot through the common room, not bothering with slippers. The cold stone floor grounded you a little, pulled you out of your head, even if only for a moment. Still, it wasn’t enough.

You didn’t even realize where you were going until you reached the Astronomy Tower.

The stars were scattered across the sky, the moon hanging low and full, casting silver light over the castle grounds. You stepped onto the balcony, wrapping your arms around yourself as the wind bit through your jumper. But it felt good. Clean. Honest.

You leaned forward on the railing, staring out into the night.

Why does it still hurt so much? You weren’t together. You weren’t speaking. And yet, every move you made, every breath you took, felt somehow tied to him. You hadn’t realized just how much of yourself had been wrapped up in Oliver Wood until you didn’t have him anymore.

And now?

Now you didn’t know how to be without him.

You pressed your forehead against the cold stone, eyes fluttering closed. Maybe you were selfish. Maybe you shouldn’t have worn Cedric’s jersey. Maybe you should’ve told Cedric no.

But gods, you just wanted to feel wanted again.

You just wanted to stop aching.

You stayed up there for a while, letting the silence wrap around you like a blanket. And when you finally turned to leave —exhausted, raw— you paused.

Because down below, sitting alone on the pitch, broom at his side and hands raking through his hair, was Oliver Wood.

You tried to sneak away silently, not wanting to alert him and get yourself into a situation, but of course, you were an idiot. You fucking tripped and tumbled, yelping and trying to hush yourself in the same moment.

Of course, that was the exact moment Oliver looked up. His sharp gaze snapped toward you instantly, and he let out a huff of a laugh, though there wasn’t much humor in it.

“Need a hand, then?” he called, his voice rough with a mix of teasing and something else — something more serious than his usual banter.

You straightened yourself up, brushing off the dirt from your jumper and making yourself look somewhat presentable, even though your heart was thudding in your chest. “No, I’ve got it,” you muttered, not quite meeting his eyes.

Oliver tilted his head, like he was assessing whether or not you were genuinely fine. There was a flicker of concern in his gaze before it softened a bit. “Didn’t think I’d see you up here,” he said quietly, a touch of something unfamiliar in his voice. “Not with everything goin’ on. You have Diggory to warm you up at night, yeah?”

Oliver's words hit you harder than you expected, and for a moment, everything inside you froze. You could feel the familiar sting of tears threatening to spill, but you bit them back, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of seeing you break again.

But as he stepped closer, his expression shifting, softening, you couldn’t stop the wave of emotion that hit you all at once.

"Stop, Oliver," you whispered, voice trembling. "Please don’t say that."

He looked at you, his own expression shifting, his brow furrowing as he reached out hesitantly, as if trying to gauge your reaction. "I didn’t mean to hurt you," he said quietly, his voice thick with regret. "But seeing you with him—it killed me. It still does."

You shook your head, trying to push him away, but it was too much. The tears broke free, falling down your cheeks before you could stop them. You wiped them away quickly, but they kept coming, hot and uncontrolled. "I don’t—why does it matter to you now? After everything, after the way you chose Quidditch over me—why are you doing this now?"

Oliver’s face faltered, the raw pain in his eyes cutting through you. "I never wanted to choose Quidditch over you, I—" He took a step forward, but you held your hand up, stepping back, not ready for the closeness yet.

He paused, his throat visibly tightening, and you could hear the pain in his next words. "I fucked up, okay? And I can’t take back the things I said, or the way I acted. But this, seeing you with him, it’s eating me up inside, and I don’t know how to handle it, lass."

You choked on a sob, finally letting the tears fall freely. "Why couldn’t you just love me like I loved you?" you whispered, your voice breaking. "Why couldn’t you just choose me?"

His face softened with guilt, and he took another step forward, his voice low. "I don’t know. I don’t know, and I hate that I don’t have an answer for you. I hate myself for hurting you like I did."

You shook your head, taking another step back. "I can’t do this again. I can’t keep going around in circles, Oliver." You were trying to be strong, but everything inside you felt fragile.

Oliver’s eyes welled up, the emotion raw in his gaze, and for a second, you saw how much he was struggling too. "I won’t give up on you," he said softly, his voice breaking. "I know I’ve right screwed things up, but I don’t want to lose you forever."

You stood there in silence, both of you just looking at each other, the weight of everything between you.

You wanted to say something—anything that would fix this, but the words wouldn’t come. There was too much history. Too much hurt.

"I don’t know what I’m supposed to feel anymore," you finally whispered. "I just don’t know."

Oliver stepped forward. His familiar scent, cologne and broom polish, filled your nostrils as you tensed slightly. He took one calloused hand, enveloping yours and lifting it to press it against his chest.

His heartbeat was steady beneath your palm, but it felt like a wild contrast to the chaos inside you. You could feel the thrum of it, the life that was still there, still holding onto something. You had almost forgotten how strong he was, how much he could make you feel with just the slightest touch.

"Lass," Oliver whispered, his voice rough with emotion, "I can’t undo what’s been done. But if you’ll let me, I’ll spend every single day making it right. I’ll prove to you that I can be what you need."

Your breath caught, the weight of his words almost too much to carry. "I don’t know if I can believe you," you said, your voice small, shaky. "I don't know if I can trust you again."

Oliver's face tightened in a mix of frustration and regret, but he didn’t pull away. Instead, he held your hand against his chest, as if willing you to feel the truth in that moment. "I’ve been a bloody idiot," he said, his words strained, and for the first time in ages, you saw the vulnerability in his eyes—the one that you hadn’t seen when you needed it the most. "But I’m not giving up on us. Not without a fight."

You shook your head slightly, the tears now flowing freely, no longer something you could hide. You were drowning in the rawness of it all. "I can’t keep hurting, Oliver," you whispered, your voice cracking.

He closed the gap between you, his free hand gently cupping your cheek, wiping away the stray tears with his thumb. "Then let me help you," he said softly, his voice almost pleading. "Let me show you that I can be the man you deserve."

You began to cry. One sob, then another, then multiple. Oliver cooed, taking you into his muscular arms and tucking you into his chest. He rocked you in a familiar fashion, the one he'd used to calm you any time you'd been upset for the past three years he'd loved you.

Oliver’s arms tightened around you, his breath warm against your hair. “Oh, sweetheart.. I cannae stand seein’ you like this,” he murmured, his voice thick with regret.

You couldn’t help but cry harder. The emotions you’d been holding in for so long spilled over, and you found yourself clinging to him, needing the comfort he once provided. The pain of losing him and the confusion of being here with him now, so close but so far, was too much to bear.

He stroked your back, his touch gentle but firm. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice breaking. “I never meant to hurt ya... I’ve fucked this up, and I hate myself for it.”

His thumb gently wiped away the tears falling down your cheek, and the tenderness in his touch made your heart ache even more. “You deserve so much better than this. I should’ve chosen you from the start.”

You pressed your face into his chest, trying to calm your breathing. His familiar warmth surrounded you. It felt like everything you’d been missing.

"I don’t know how to fix this," you said softly, your voice shaky.

“Ye don’t need to fix it,” he replied quietly, holding you even tighter. “Let me do that. I’ll fix it. I’ll show you I can be the man you deserve. Just... just give me a chance, aye?”

You nodded slightly, not trusting your voice anymore, but feeling the sincerity in his words. There was no arrogance, no pride. Just vulnerability, something you hadn’t seen from him in a long time.

Oliver kissed the top of your head, his voice soft and steady. “I’ll wait, lass. Whatever it takes, I’ll wait until you can trust me again.”

You stayed there for a moment, the quiet of the night settling around you, and for the first time in a long time, you felt a flicker of hope.

That night, stupidly and recklessly, but so pleasurably, you spent the night in Oliver's dorm. You were wrapped into his blankets, tangled in the cologne scented sheets, wrapped in his thick arms. It was the best sleep you'd gotten in months. You betrayed yourself, yes. You'd disrespected yourself by letting Oliver back in so quickly.

But you didn't even care. It didn't matter.

The weeks that followed mattered more.

Because in the weeks that followed, Oliver showed up.

He didn’t just say the right things—he did them. He was early to meet you, late to leave you. He remembered little things, like how you hated pumpkin juice with breakfast or how your nose scrunched when you were trying not to cry. He walked you to classes, waited outside the library when you studied late, and touched you like you were glass—precious, delicate, treasured.

He didn’t push. He didn’t beg for things to go back to the way they were. He just stayed. Quietly. Steadily. Like he was rebuilding the bridge between you, one brick at a time.

And you? You tried not to fall all over again.

But it was hard. So hard.

Because some nights, he’d kiss your forehead and whisper, “Sleep well, love,” in that soft voice of his, thick with that lilting brogue, and it would wreck you. Or he'd hold your hand in the hallway, squeezing it when a group of Hufflepuff girls passed by, whispering something teasing to make you laugh — and your heart would ache in that annoyingly familiar way.

You still had doubts. You still remembered the pain. But there was something different in his eyes now. Like he saw you — really saw you — and wasn’t about to let you slip through his fingers again.

You couldn’t help it. You started hoping again.

One night, curled into his chest under the invisibility cloak up in the Astronomy Tower — your favorite spot — he pressed a kiss to your temple and murmured, “I don’t expect forgiveness, not all at once. But I’ll earn it, aye? Every bloody day if I have to.”

You believed him.

And that terrified you just as much as it thrilled you.

For all the soft, quiet moments Oliver shared with you in private, he was still Oliver Wood — arrogant, competitive, a little too loud when he was trying to prove a point. Especially in front of Cedric Diggory.

It happened at lunch, a week after you'd let Cedric know that things wouldn't work between the two of you. Of course, as humble and kind as Cedric was, he was completely understanding.

You were sitting beside Lavender, trying to enjoy your meal without any drama, when Oliver strode into the Great Hall like he owned the damn castle. His Quidditch jacket slung lazily over his shoulder, hair a little messy from flying, grin annoyingly confident.

He spotted Cedric before he even saw you.

“Oi, Diggory!” he called, clapping him on the back a bit harder than necessary. “Heard you had a rough go against Slytherin. Shame, that.”

Cedric, always graceful, gave a polite smile. “Yeah, well, can’t win ’em all.”

Oliver leaned in just a little. “Aye, but it’s easier when yer not getting hexed outta the sky, isn’t it?”

You nearly choked on your pumpkin juice. “Oliver.”

He turned to you with the most innocent expression. “What? I’m just sayin’. Don’t worry, love, I’ll show Diggory a proper match when Gryffindor stomps Hufflepuff next term.” Then, flashing a smug grin, he threw an arm casually around your shoulders like he hadn’t just caused a minor scene.

Cedric just chuckled under his breath and gave you a little knowing glance, like you chose this chaos.

And you had.

Because no matter how smug or ridiculous Oliver got—especially when puffing his chest like a bloody peacock—you couldn’t stop your heart from doing that stupid fluttering thing.

Especially when he leaned in later and whispered in your ear, “Didn’t like seein’ him kiss yer cheek, y’know. Had to remind him who you go home to.”

You elbowed him in the ribs. But you didn’t stop smiling for the rest of the day.

[ambitiouspotions]

GREENERY | NEVILLE LONGBOTTOM | ONESHOT

summary — the plans for new year’s eve change so you smoke with neville instead

word count — 2.4k

warnings — 18+ MDNI, marijuana usage, smut

author’s note — university au! modern au!happy new year!

new year’s eve was as to be expected, especially in finding neville couped up in his college apartment with nothing to do because he didn’t want to go out to the bars. you were dressed to go out with seamus, his roommate, and a group of friends that decided it would be easier if you met by the strip of bars. though when you entered the unlocked apartment shouting seamus’ name, neville peeked his head to the side, stuffing a silver container into his pocket. you walked into the living area as neville exited the kitchenette, ensuring his body was blocking the archway with his tall frame.

“hey nev, where is seamus?” you asked, pulling up the waistband of your jeans casually.

“he’s at the bar waiting for you.” neville was still concealing the container in his pocket, but his body language relaxed completely. you sighed at his response. seamus had completely misread your messages. the only reason you went out of your way in the first place is because you didn’t want to walk alone on one of the busiest nights of the year.

“do you mind if i wait here until he answers?”

neville shook his head and motioned casually to the couch. you knew you didn’t have to ask, but you wanted to be polite. there were many times before that you were here or they were in your dorm. neville didn’t move from his spot, knowing the counter in the other room was his opened stash of weed. his body language was back to stiff, knowing you weren’t leaving until seamus contacted you.

as you sat down on the worn sofa to call seamus you wiped the cushions of the crumbs that one of the boys had left. many unanswered calls and texts later you rolled your eyes. while you tried to contact seamus one last time, you noticed neville was mindlessly scrolling on his phone. you tapped your foot in annoyance, finally, a ding came through. seamus would be back to walk you over to the bar when he finished his first drink. he figured you could help yourself to his personal reserve as an apology until he arrived.

“he said to get the liquor off the counter to pregame with,” you stood up, walking to the archway where neville was standing he leaned more into the frame.

“there’s none in there,” neville said, sliding his phone into his pocket.

“nev, don't be silly. it’s seamus; there is some form of alcohol in that room.” you laughed softly, only thinking of the times you were laid on the floor of the den halfway excited and halfway dying because you were trying to out-drink seamus.

“maybe it’s in his room.” neville said, clearing his throat and fidgeting with the ridge of the frame.

you eyed neville suspiciously. he had always been awkward and a bit quirky, but never so abrupt and stiff.

“what are you hiding?” you questioned, watching his cheeks go red and his hands start fidgeting with his pockets.

“nothing, i just don’t think—”

the moment he had moved his hands you caught a glimpse of the kitchen, the bottles of liquor were grouped on the table. “now, nev,” you said, pushing past him directly to the liquor as you whipped your head around, neville was trying to make it to his rolling tray on the counter.

“you smoke?” you were surprised, to say the least. neville was trying to collect his items quietly.

“yes, but don't tell anyone. only seamus knows,” he admitted, cringing at himself for the day his friend found out. he forgot to open the vent in the bathroom, and the moment seamus was in from class, the whole apartment smelled like a mix of majuarina and an ungodly amount of air freshener. neville was asking for forgiveness the moment seamus walked into their apartment. his eyes were red from his smoke session but also from crying. he truthfully thought seamus was going to kill him for smoking in the apartment.

“seamus got you to smoke? i mean, i am not going to say anything, but that's hilarious.” you took a bottle of clear liquor and got a couple of clean cups from the cabinet. even you had smoked before, most of the time with seamus and the friends you were meeting tonight.

“uh, no, actually i got him to smoke,” neville said, moving his shaggy brunette hair to the side. seamus had never tried it, to nevielle's surprise, but with a lot of apologizing and very little convincing, seamus had begun occasionally smoking socially from that point onward. he boys would sometimes get home from their classes or jobs, and both needed a little relaxation.

your phone dinged again right as you were about to pour the shots.

won't make it

girl from physics thinks i’m cute

your face dropped as you read the message. good for seamus, not so good for you. it was already dark outside and the street lights weren’t enough to comfort you on the walk to the bar. you stacked the cups to their original position and put seamus’ liquor in its setting.

“i’m sorry for bothering you tonight, nev. i think i’m just gonna go home.”

neville had a slight frown on his face when he noticed how disappointed you were.

“i was just going to get high and play video games, but you can join me.” he offered, placing his rolling tray and papers back on the counter. “i mean i know it isn’t as fun as the bar but i s’pose you wouldn’t be bored at your place.” he began rolling a singular joint and wiping his spilled greenery into his hand to throw away.

soon you were both situated comfortably on the sofa passing the blunt back and forth. your eyes were fixated on the screen as your hands moved on the controller. neville was carrying the match, but truthfully, you were just happy to be there after your friend canceled on you at the last minute. you eventually laid your head back and looked away from the television. your eyes were watery, causing the mascara on your lower lash line to begin getting liquidy. your mouth was parched, and seeing neville easily rise off the sofa to return to the kitchen for snacks seemed like too much of a task for you. you were grateful he was going.

“can i have something to drink?” you asked softly, only seeing neville nod his head while collecting a couple of goodies from the cupboards. when he returned you laid your head on his shoulder, his cologne still apparent even though the odor from the weed. you sipped the water he gave you and laughed. neville switched to some movie he didn’t have to focus on and leaned back against you. his face was flushed, but his anxiety was lessened due to the weed. you both shared a package of chocolates his grandmother had sent him for christmas.

neville had been a silent yet involved a friend with you. although you were closer to seamus because you went out to parties with him, the moments you were in their apartment, neville always made you feel welcomed. you never wanted to make him feel left out, especially in his own home, so you were usually the person to invite neville to come into your group, and neville was the person to ensure everyone in the group was happy.

you noticed him looking at you rather than the screen and looked up curiously. he had put down his candy package and cleared his throat.

“you okay?” you questioned.

“yeah, just haven’t been alone with someone so pretty in a while.” he rubbed his thumb over the mascara streaks to rid them from your face, causing some inner embarrassment seeing the black makeup come off on his pale digit.

“oh, nev,” you mumbled as he came closer to your face. he leaned his forehead against yours and felt your heart skipping beats as he caressed your cheek softly.

the softest kiss you ever experienced was in that moment. both of you were deeply fixated on each other rather than the background noise of the television or the beginning of the fireworks outside that would occasionally cause the dimly lit apartment to light in different colors. the night was still young as neville deepened the kiss, his hands moving to your back and your hands moving under his hoodie.

you switched your position to mounting his lap, and his eyes were locked on yours as you managed to slip his hoodie over his head. he swallowed hard, unbuttoning your jeans and folding the waistband down, his hand grasping your waist tightly as if you were going to leave. you pulled off your shirt, allowing neville to unzip your front closure bra. it made you shiver as his hands ran down your arms to take it completely off.

he was putting on a confidant facade as he allowed you to grind against him with both of your bottom halves clothed. loosely guiding your hips to adjust your position so you could feel his bulging erection. he was needy kisses against your chest, one hand now fixated on your nipples. he could tell you were enjoying his teasing touches because your breathing would stall for seconds at a time. every touch he gave was otherworldly.

“do you wanna, y/n?” neville had taken his hands off of you and took a moment of clarity.

“yeah,” you said confidently and brushed his bangs away from his eyes. the moment you got up to take down your jeans, he followed your lead, undressing himself. he reached into the drawer of the coffee table and grabbed a condom, sliding it on in preparation for you. your panties were slightly stuck to you as you pulled them off, as your arousal was already present.

you sat on his lap this time; nothing was separating you two. you leaned your face into his neck and gasped when you were fully seated. neville ran his fingers down your spine to settle you. your knees were on either side of him, beginning to bounce on his shaft he leaned his head back and placed another sturdy hold on your bottom. with this, it allowed you to sink deeper into his erection.

your eyes were closed tightly as you rode him, but occasionally peeking to see his facial expressions distort from pleasure. his mouth was agape every time you would flick your ass back just right, causing your walls to tighten onto the tip of his manhood.

neville settled you to a stop, he sat back further into the sofa and put you against his sweaty chest. he began to thrust into, his motions were faster and more consistent which caused him to repeatedly hit your g-spot as if it were a sport. the moment he heard your moans get louder he continued his upward thrusts.

“jeez, nev.” you moaned out, getting a fuzzy mind as he kept pounding into you. your heart felt as though it was going to beat out of your chest because of all the breathing you were forgetting to do in between the moans and gasps as he was causing you to perform.

“tell that to yourself, y/n. you're making me wonder why i’ve been smoking alone.” he took a deep breath and kissed your temple. he laid you down and slid his hands under your back, his hands grasping your shoulders as he entered again. your legs wrapped around his waist. the sweat on his hairline was beading as he continued his repetitive motions. he had to remove one hand to steady himself on the couch, looking down on you lustfully. neville felt as though he was in another dimension, his libido had excelled and the weed was giving him the extra courage to last longer inside your sopping wet walls.

your plump lips were parted, muttering his name, giving him more courage to continue pushing his hips into yours. your legs were looser on him now as they were shaking and your nails were digging into his chest. you arched your back letting out a loud and whiny moan as you reached your high.

it was hardly bearable to let neville finish. each thrust after your climax became more pleasurable than the last, making your already stoned mind get even more of a heightened sensitivity. when neville finished you shared a kiss, but he soon laid back on the sofa to keep the heat away from each other.

you lay staring at each other from opposite ends of the couch, the couch that had also scooted in the wrong direction, from your vigorous activities, before you knew it your eyes were closed and so were neville's. the loud bangs and pops from the fireworks didn't interrupt any of the well-deserved sleep. within a few hours, you vaguely remembered neville lying in between your legs and drifting back to sleep.

though the next morning when the light was barely creeping in seamus came in loudly, causing neville to quickly cover you with his discarded hoodie, he pulled his sweatpants over his crotch so he wasn't fully naked when his roommate would saw you on the couch together.

“YOU PULLED AND I DIDN’T?”

his anger was well deserved because the girl from his physics lecture led him on the whole night only to get free drinks. instead of getting laid, he slept on the dorm room floor using his jacket as a pillow.

“oh, mate, ew,” he continued as he stepped further into the living area to see the half-eaten chocolates, ashtray, and condom lying messily in the den. “gross,” he said looking around at the clothes and noticed a scuff on the floor from the couch moving.

you sink into the sofa, happy that you are somewhat covered from seamus’ judging glare.

“just go in the other room so y/n can get dressed,” neville said, leaning against you more so you weren't as exposed to seamus’ eyes.

seamus shooed him with his hand, cringing as he walked back to his bedroom. “we need a new couch!” he exclaimed, then the slamming door was heard.

“next time don’t cancel then!” you yelled back to hear him curse. you and neville pulled on your clothes tiredly.

“i’d kind of want him to cancel again,” neville admitted, pushing back your messy hair.

“i don’t think he will again, so that means have to make our own plans now.”

[ellswritings]

About Time

Harry Potter x Gryffindor!Reader

TW: Harry being jealous, Y/N is really ‘that girl,’ fluff.

╭────────── ♱ · 𓆩🤍𓆪 · ♱ ─╮

╰─ ♱ · 𓆩🤍𓆪 · ♱ ──────────╯

The announcement of the Yule Ball sent the Hogwarts student body into a frenzy. Professor McGonagall’s proclamation during breakfast was met with gasps, whispers, and cheers. Even the more reserved Ravenclaws exchanged eager glances over their plates.

“Now remember,” McGonagall said, her tone stern as she surveyed the Hall, “this is a formal event. Dress robes will be required, and students are expected to conduct themselves with decorum.”

A chorus of whispers erupted across the Great Hall. Y/N L/N, sitting with Ron, Hermione, and Harry at the Gryffindor table, raised her brows.

“Formal event, huh? Hope you boys have your frilly dress robes ready,” she teased, nudging Harry’s arm.

Harry smirked. “I don’t even know how to dance.”

“Figures,” she quipped, leaning closer with a mischievous glint. “Can’t wait to see you step on someone's toes all night.”

Ron groaned, ignoring their banter. “I just hope my mum didn’t send me anything embarrassing.”

“You’ll look like a prince, I’m sure,” Y/N teased, before turning to Hermione. “What about you? Got anyone in mind to ask you yet?”

Hermione flushed but quickly steered the conversation away. “The Ball is meant to unite the schools. You might want to think about representing Gryffindor without making a scene.”

Y/N put a hand to her chest, feigning offense. “Me? Make a scene? When have I ever—”

“Don’t answer that,” Harry interjected quickly, earning a grin from her.

It was moments like this—lighthearted and filled with their easy camaraderie—that made Y/N’s dynamic with Harry so unique. Their teasing often bordered on flirtation, though neither would ever admit it.

The moment McGonagall’s announcement ended, Y/N became a focal point for Yule Ball chatter, much to her bemusement. Boys seemed to appear out of nowhere, all vying for her attention.

Seamus Finnigan caught her in the common room first. “Y/N,” he said, bowing dramatically, “let me take you to the Yule Ball and save everyone else the heartache.”

She laughed, patting his cheek. “Nice try, Seamus, but I’ll have to pass.”

“I’m crushed,” he said, clutching his chest theatrically before retreating with a grin.

Later, Michael Corner stopped her outside Charms, stammering through his request. “Y-Y/N, I was wondering if maybe you’d, uh, go to the Ball with me?”

Y/N smiled kindly. “Michael, that’s sweet of you, but I’ve already got someone in mind.”

“Oh,” he mumbled, cheeks burning as he scurried away.

But the real kicker came when Viktor Krum approached her after lunch one afternoon. His imposing figure seemed to create a vacuum of silence as students watched the Durmstrang champion approach her.

“Y/N,” he said, his thick accent wrapping around her name. “I vould like to take you to the Yule Ball.”

She tilted her head, surprised but not flustered. “That’s quite the offer, Viktor. Why me?”

“You are... strong. Confident,” he said simply. “And very beautiful.”

“Flattery will get you everywhere,” she replied, smirking. “But I’m afraid I have to say no.”

Krum looked genuinely surprised. “You do not vant to go?”

“I’m flattered,” she said sincerely. “But I’ve got my eyes on someone else.”

Viktor nodded respectfully. “You are honest. I admire that.”

​​Harry’s jealousy simmered for days. He couldn’t help but notice how Y/N seemed to glide through the chaos, turning down every suitor with grace and humor. It was maddening, especially since he couldn’t summon the courage to ask her himself.

“What’s stopping you?” Hermione asked one evening in the common room after he’d spent several minutes glaring at Cedric Diggory, who had been talking to Y/N outside.

“She’s got better options,” Harry mumbled.

Hermione rolled her eyes. “Honestly, Harry. If she wanted to go with Krum or Diggory, she would have said yes already.”

Ron chimed in, his mouth full of Chocolate Frogs. “Yeah, but what if she says no? Imagine the embarrassment.”

“Helpful, Ron,” Hermione snapped before turning to Harry. “You won’t know unless you try.”

As the days went on, The Chosen One wasn’t sure when it started, but he couldn’t seem to look away when Y/N entered the room. It was almost painful to watch her interact with others, especially when those others seemed to linger too long or laugh a little too hard at her jokes.

Take breakfast, for example. She was laughing at something George Weasley had said, and her laughter drew half the Great Hall’s attention. George smirked, leaning in conspiratorially. Whatever he said next made her snort, her hand lightly smacking his shoulder.

Harry frowned into his porridge. “What’s so funny?”

Ron looked up from his plate. “What?”

“Over there,” Harry said, nodding toward the Weasley twins and Y/N.

Ron shrugged. “Dunno. George probably made some ridiculous joke about Blast-Ended Skrewts. Why?”

“No reason,” Harry muttered, stabbing at his food.

Hermione, ever observant, arched a brow. “You know, for someone who doesn’t care, you’re awfully focused on her.”

Harry glared. “I’m not focused. She’s just… loud.”

“Oh, yes, it’s definitely her volume that has you glowering like a thundercloud,” Hermione said dryly.

A week before the Ball, Y/N found herself heading to the library to escape the endless string of admirers. The quiet sanctuary of the shelves was a welcome reprieve until she spotted none other than Harry Potter, buried in a book that he looked thoroughly uninterested in.

“Since when do you study this hard?” she teased, dropping into the seat across from him.

Harry jumped, nearly knocking his inkpot over. “I could ask you the same. Don’t you have another suitor to fend off?”

“Not at the moment,” she said with a smirk. “Figured I’d hide out for a bit.”

“Hide?” he asked, furrowing his brow.

“Yeah, you know, to avoid the inevitable ‘Y/N, please go to the Ball with me’ speech from yet another poor soul.”

Harry tried to smile, but it came out strained. “Sounds... exhausting.”

“It is,” she replied with a sigh, leaning back in her chair. “So, what are you doing here?”

“Trying to figure out how to dance without looking like an idiot,” he muttered, his cheeks turning pink.

Y/N couldn’t help but laugh. “Harry, you’ve faced trolls, Dementors, and a giant snake. Surely, a little dancing isn’t going to kill you.”

“It might if I step on someone’s foot,” he quipped, finally cracking a genuine smile.

Y/N tilted her head, studying him. “You know, you don’t have to be perfect at everything. Just... have fun with it.”

“I’ll try,” he said, though his tone was doubtful.

“Well,” she said, standing and grabbing his hand, “no time like the present.”

“What?” Harry stammered as she pulled him into the open space between the shelves.

“Let’s practice,” she said, placing one of his hands on her waist and holding the other. “It’s not that hard. Just follow my lead.”

Harry’s heart was racing as he tried to focus on her instructions. But it was difficult to think straight with Y/N so close, her laugh filling the quiet library as she teased him for his clumsiness.

“See? You’re getting the hang of it,” she said after a few minutes.

“Yeah, sure,” he muttered, looking everywhere but at her.

She stopped, her eyes narrowing. “Alright, Potter. What’s going on with you? You’ve been acting weird lately.”

“I’m fine,” he said quickly.

“You’re a terrible liar,” she replied, crossing her arms. “Is this about the Ball?”

Harry hesitated, his mouth opening and closing as he struggled to find the words.

Before he could respond, Madam Pince appeared, glaring at them. “No dancing in the library!”

Y/N grabbed Harry’s arm, pulling him toward the exit with a laugh. “Guess we’ll have to finish this later.”

Harry’s anger ended up reaching new heights when he stumbled upon Y/N and Cedric in the courtyard. They were standing under a tree, laughing about something Harry couldn’t hear. He hesitated behind a pillar, close enough to see but far enough to avoid being noticed.

“So,” Cedric said, leaning casually against the trunk, “are you always this difficult to impress, or am I just unlucky?”

Y/N smirked. “I have high standards. You’re doing alright so far, though.”

Cedric placed a hand over his chest in mock relief. “Good to know. I was worried I’d have to resort to reciting sonnets.”

“Oh, please,” Y/N teased, crossing her arms. “You don’t strike me as the poetry type.”

Cedric feigned offense. “And what type am I, then?”

“The charming Quidditch star who thinks his smile is enough to get by,” she said, though her tone was playful.

“Well,” Cedric replied, grinning, “is it working?”

Y/N laughed. “Maybe a little.”

“Enough to get a yes to the Yule Ball?” Cedric asked, his tone shifting to something more sincere.

Y/N hesitated, her smile softening. “Cedric, you’re sweet. And honestly, if I didn’t already have someone in mind, I’d probably say yes.”

Cedric tilted his head, a curious look in his eyes. “Someone in mind, huh? Lucky bloke. Should I be worried?”

She shook her head. “Not at all. But thank you for asking—it means a lot.”

Harry, still hidden, felt his stomach churn. She had someone in mind? Was it someone else he didn’t know about?

The revelation haunted Harry for the rest of the day. Who could she mean? George? Fred? Or someone else entirely?

By the time they reached the common room that evening, he couldn’t hold it in any longer. “So,” he began, trying to sound casual, “you’ve been spending a lot of time with Cedric lately.”

Y/N looked up from her Charms textbook, clearly amused. “Not really. Why?”

“No reason,” Harry said quickly, though his tone betrayed him.

Hermione groaned, setting down her quill. “Oh, for goodness’ sake, Harry. Just ask her already!”

“Ask me what?” Y/N asked, her brows knitting together.

Harry’s face turned crimson. “Nothing. Forget it.”

For the next few days, Harry avoided her entirely. Y/N noticed immediately, her confusion growing with each passing hour. By the time Defense Against the Dark Arts rolled around, she’d had enough.

When Harry excused himself to the bathroom mid-class, Y/N followed, cornering him just as he passed an empty broom closet.

“Inside,” she said, tugging him by the sleeve before he could protest.

“Y/N, what are you—”

“Shut it,” she snapped, closing the door behind them. “What is going on with you?”

“Nothing,” he said too quickly, avoiding her gaze.

“Don’t lie to me, Potter,” she said, crossing her arms. “You’ve been acting weird ever since—oh.” Her eyes narrowed. “This is about Cedric, isn’t it?”

Harry’s jaw clenched. “It’s not—”

“Don’t bother denying it,” she cut him off. “What, are you jealous?”

Harry’s eyes flashed. “Why would I be jealous? You’ve been flirting with half the school.”

Her brows shot up. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me,” he said, his voice rising. “Every guy in Hogwarts and Durmstrang is lining up to ask you, and you just—just laugh and smile like it’s nothing.”

“It is nothing!” she shouted back. “I turned all of them down, Harry! Including Cedric.”

Harry froze. “You... did?”

“Yes,” she said, her tone softer now but still firm. “Because there’s only one person I want to go with.”

“Who?” he asked, his voice barely a whisper.

She stared at him for a long moment before stepping closer. “You, you idiot.”

Harry’s heart stuttered in his chest. “Me?”

“Obviously,” she said, a teasing smile tugging at her lips. “Now, are you going to ask me, or do I have to keep turning people down?”

Swallowing his nerves, Harry met her gaze. “Y/N, will you go to the Yule Ball with me?”

Her smile widened. “I thought you’d never ask.”

Before he could process what was happening, she leaned in, capturing his lips in a kiss that was both gentle and electric. When they pulled apart, Harry couldn’t stop the grin spreading across his face.

“About time,” she teased, tugging him out of the closet. “Now let’s get back to class before anyone notices we’re gone.”

The Yule Ball ended up being magical, but for Harry, the real highlight was dancing with Y/N under the enchanted ceiling, knowing they’d both found exactly what they were looking for.

[ivqnx]

Felix Neumann

(guess who just manually draw the clothes' writing and putting random ass historical facts 😌)

[orphicdreamers-wp]

Hi! I wanted to send a request for rutger. Reader and rutger are dating and theyre at a frat party. Readers drunk and gets taken advantage of. Rutger finds out and him and some of the other hockey boys (who readers grown close with) take matters into their own hands.

Rescue You — Rutger McGroarty

Summary: In which you find yourself needing rescued.

Content Warning; Underage drinking(Reader is 20), sexual assault, victim blaming themselves, blood, fighting, protective Rutger & UMich Hockey Boys, 18+ content!!

Pairing: Rutger McGroarty &Reader(Romantic) Umich Hockey players & Reader(platonic)

Notes: I hope this does the request well. I also added a bit of JJ McCarthy bc I love him.

You honestly didn’t even want to be at this party, Rutger and Seamus had practically forced you to come. But nonetheless you put on a cute dress and spent the better part of the night under Rutger’s arm. You had grown bored of watching your boyfriend and his friends play beer pong. You pressed a kiss against Rutger’s cheek, “I’m gonna go grab a drink Rut.” Rutger’s hands snaked around your hips as he pulled you into a kiss that left you speechless, “I’ll be here my love.” Your heart soared as you walked out of the room and heard Rutger’s friends poke at him for being overly affectionate towards you. Which he always was when he had when he was drunk.

You entered the kitchen and began to pour vodka into a solo cup. “Pretty lame party right?” You jumped at the voice, you turned around to find it belonged to a boy in one of your lectures, Logan or Landon was his name. You smiled sheepishly, “Could definitely be better.” He grinned at this, as a sinking feeling overcame you, “I’m Landon by the way. Your in my intro to gender in media lecture right?” You nodded, “I think so, I’m Y/N.” He grinned as he grabbed a beer, “A pretty name for a pretty girl.”

Your stomach churned at his words, “Ha thanks.” He had his arm on the cabinet above your head, “You look like you could use something strong. Come on, I have fireball in my room.” You stomach sank, but you’d been drinking beer while observing your boyfriend for most of the night so your judgment was impaired as you agreed and followed him to his room. Your drunken state seemed to poise an opportunity for him. He shut his bedroom door before leading you to the bed. As you sat down you saw the look in his eyes darken as he leaned forward, further and further until his body weight was on top of you. He was easily 6’5 and potentially double your body weight so you had no way of moving.

Anna, Seamus’s girlfriend furrowed an eyebrow as she searched the house for you. She turned to Rutger, “McGroarty, where’s your girl?” Rutger furrowed an eyebrow, “I’m not sure. She said something about going to get a drink.” Anna furrowed an eyebrow as she got up to find you. Landon had both of your hands pinned down with a harsh grip. You had your back to the door, the door creaked open and you heard Anna’s voice, “Sorry, shit my bad, wait Y/N?” She would have recognized the lacy black mini dress on your body, she made it. “Your seriously cheating on Rutger when he’s downstairs?”

Landon was panicking and pulled up his pants and hurried out of the room. Once you realized he was gone from the room you broke into sobs. Anna rushed to your side, she reached out to pull you into a hug when you flinched and your tears streamed down your face, “Anna, don’t tell him.” Anna looked at the bruises forming on your wrists and her jaw clenched, “Okay, honey I won’t tell Rutger but you should.” You sniffled, “He wouldn’t be able to look at me the same. I’m scared Anna.” Anna sniffled, “Can I hug you Y/N?” You nodded through your tears and melted into your friends arms.

You finally calmed down enough to go downstairs with Anna. Rutger, Luca, Seamus, Ethan, Mark and Adam were all still playing beer pong. The game was quickly abandoned as soon as Rutger got a glimpse of your tearstained cheeks and bloodshot eyes. He was immediately heading for you, “Baby, what happened?” You pulled back from him slightly, “It’s my fault. I shouldn’t have been drinking so much.” Luca’s jaw clenched, he put two and two together.

Jazz, Luca’s girlfriend shook her head, “No, you didn’t do anything wrong sweetie.” Rutger’s hands found their way into a ball, “Who did it? I need you to tell me who did this to you.” You let out a small sob, “His name’s Landon. I don’t know anything else.” Adam’s jaw tensed, “Dark hair? Big guy?” You nodded as Anna held you into a warm embrace. Adam turned to his brother, “I’ll be back.” He walked out of the room, “McCarthy!” JJ’s head shot up from the redhead he was doing a body shot off of, “What’s up bro?”

Adam scoffed, “Where’s your boy Landon?” JJ shrugged, “Last I saw him he was headed out back. Why?” Adam clenched his fist, “He just took advantage of my boys girl. I’m about to kick his ass.” JJ shot up, feeling anger course through his veins, “He did what?” Suddenly you were left standing with Anna and Jazz on either side of you. The drinking game long forgotten as your boyfriend and his teammates stormed outside. You insisted on following them.

The minute the backdoor opened, the entire feeling of the backyard changed. Landon was sat on a lawn chair with a perky blonde on his lap. JJ approached the pair and looked at the girl, “If I were you I’d move.” The girl took one look at JJ and got up, sensing the blonde football player was serious. Landon glared at his teammate, “Man I was working my magic here.” JJ scoffed, “I really don’t give a damn dude. Your such a piece of shit.” Landon scoffed and began to speak only to be cut off by Rutger punching him in the face.

Landon barely stumbled and went to retract his fist only to be punched in the face from the opposite side by Luca, “Don’t even try it bitch.” Mark came from behind pulling Landon around and punching him so hard Landon fell to the ground. Landon looked to JJ for assistance, “Bro your not gonna help me out?” JJ crossed his arms, “Not when you take advantage of a drunk girl under the same roof as me. I’m not defending you. You did it yourself.” Landon scoffed, “That’s what this is about? That bitch?” Rutger could have sworn he was seeing red as he pulled his hand back and repeated hit Landon in the face. Only stopping when he saw blood on his hands and saw the horrified look in your eyes. He scoffed, “Expect a appointment with your coach and the dean.” He walked away from him and towards you, “Y/N baby I am so so sorry.” You felt your body give way as you leaned into your boyfriend’s arms.

[ravenclaws-stuff]

Here is a list of all the characters I write for. I will also post a list of all the prompts I do. Please request any if you would like🩶💚

Harry Potter

Marauder Era

James Potter

Remus Lupin

Regulus Black

Sirius Black

Barty Crouch Jr

Golden Era

Gryffindor

Harry Potter

Ron Weasley

Neville Longbottom

Seamus Finnegan

Dean Thomas

Fred Weasley

George Weasley

Lee Jordan

Oliver Wood

Colin Creevey

Charlie Weasley

Bill Weasley

Percy Weasley

Slytherin

Draco Malfoy

Blaise Zabini

Theodore Nott

Adrian Pucey

Other

Roger Davies

Children Era

Teddy Lupin

James Sirius Potter

Scorpius Malfoy

Hugo Weasley

Albus Potter

Fred Weasley

Black Clover

Black Bulls

Asta

Finral

Zora

Gauche

Magna

Luck

Henry

Nacht

Golden Dawn

Yuno

Langris

William

Klaus

Silver Eagle

Nozel

Crimson Lions

Fuegoleon

Leopold

Coral Peacocks

Kirsch

Aqua Deer

Rill

Naruto

Naruto Uzumaki

Sasuke Uchiha

Sai

Shikamaru Nara

Choji Akimichi

Shino Aburame

Kiba Inuzuka

Neji Hyuga

Rock Lee

Gaara

Kankuro

[rainydayathogwarts]

Hi! I love your writing! Can i have a Seamus Finnigan request where the reader is Harry Potter’s little sister & Harry asks Seamus to take care of her while he is away trying to solve the horcruxes? They both have strong feeling for each other and Harry knows Seamus will protect his baby sister?

Safe in his arms - Seamus Finnegan

It all started with the lingering glances between you. Despite the prison Hogwarts had turned into, teachers acting as propaganda testimonials, you'd always managed to find each other through the darkness. Harry stared across the common room from where he stood at the entrance with Ron, eyes locked on you cuddling into Seamus's side, an arm locked around his own, wide smiles on both your faces. It was obvious the two of you shared feelings for each other, staying in the common room together until ridiculous hours, aware that you wouldn't be seeing each other throughout the day due to being in different year groups.

Harry approached the two of you, your conversation quieting down when he stopped in front of you, leaning down to cup your face in his hands, pressing a kiss on your forehead. He felt your eyebrows furrow beneath his lips, and when he pulled away he met your worried gaze. "You okay?" Harry nodded, glancing at Seamus who had looked away respectfully, giving you a moment of privacy. You held each other's gaze for a long moment, the knowledge of Harry's absence the next year loud in the room, even though nothing had been said.

Your older brother liked keeping you in the dark, and no matter how furious it made you, you understood why. You'd want to protect him as much as possible if you were in his place, and by knowing as little as possible about the horcruxes and Voldemort, he was making sure of it. There was one thing he couldn't protect you from though; the dangers of staying at Hogwarts next year as a Potter in a school full of death eaters. Looking away from you, Harry patted a hand on Seamus' shoulder, grabbing the older boy's attention. "Can I speak to you mate?"

Untangling his arm from yours, Seamus followed your brother into a secluded area of the common room. Their conversation started and ended very quickly, Harry bringing Seamus into a hug, patting him on the back at the end of it. When Seamus returned to sit with you, he didn't say a word about his conversation with your brother, instead asking "Are you all packed up to go home tomorrow?"

By the end of the summer, Harry had hurriedly fled with Ron and Hermione, only leaving you with a quick hug and 'Stay safe', leaving you no option but to go back to Hogwarts for your sixth year. You, Ginny and Luna had been abnormally quiet on the train ride to Hogwarts, the absence of both you and Ginny's brothers and her boyfriend casting a shadow upon you. It was only when the doors to your compartment slammed open, and two familiar people poked their heads in that your spirits were lifted once more.

"Seamus!" You hadn't seen the boy since that last day at Hogwarts, both of you being stuck indoors due to the fear surrounding the upcoming war. He wrapped his arms around your waist and dug his face into the crook of your neck as you held him close to you by his shoulders. When you pulled away from the hug, your cheeks heating up when you realised how long you had embraced for, you greeted Neville, who now sat next to Luna. Seamus took the spot next to you, arm wrapping around your shoulders to tug you closer to him, promising himself that when the war was finally over, you'd be his. But for now, all he could think about when he looked at you were your brother's words ringing in his ears and the promise he had made.

Just keep her safe for me.

[delayed-affection]

Partying

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Y/n.Hughes

Liked by Alexturcotte_, Luca.fantilli and 19,282 others

Y/n.Hughes back to back parties are not the move

View comments…

Dylanduke25 You did well soldier🫡

User2 the last pic 🥸

Y/n.Hughes 🤫

Edwards.73 Party rockers in the house tonight

User4 Wait jacks there?

Seamuscasey26 Try to keep up

Y/n.Hughes I’m trying!

User6 Girl start tagging people please 🙏🏻

Mackie.samo let’s get twisted 🌀🌀

User5 do you have any girl friends

Y/n.Hughes Yeah but I’d rather them not get attacked by random people online tbh

User5 valid

User9 Everyone looks so good 🤤😵‍💫

_quinnhughes stay hydrated

Y/n.Hughes yes sir 🫡

Markestapa Live laugh love

Jackhughes I should be the first pic not the third

Y/n.Hughes Can’t be picked first for everything

Jackhughes Yeah I can

User1 okay but like Ethan looks hella good

Mbeniers10 Bunch of studs

Lhughes_06 I didn’t even make the post

Luca.fantilli can’t relate 🤴

Taglist: @calesmaker @huggybearluvr @daveyjoneshat @jayda12 @sweetestdesire @dasiysthings @kiarabellerum31

[miryum]

Trust (Mattheo Riddle x Reader) Southern Regency AU

Warnings: Reader is a bit of a brat/empty-minded at first but it gets so much better, 10-ish age difference, Reader is in love with Harry Potter at first (or thinks she is), set in the South (of the US), inspired by Gone With the Wind

Y/n L/n was the belle of the South. She had the Weasley twins running after her every weekend and at the weekly balls, their older brother, Charlie, had to have the first dance with her. Her father had rejected numerous suitors, but that didn’t mean they stopped trying. The Diggory family had made a large offer, but their estate was too small for the L/n family.

The L/n’s consisted of the patriarch, William, and the matriarch, Peggy. While William ran the fields, Peggy ran his heart and household. Their oldest was their pride and joy, Y/n, followed by Odessa. Odessa hated being in her sister’s shadow. It meant her infatuation for George Weasley was seen as childish and unwanted. The L/n’s had one last daughter, Della, who was ten years younger than Y/n. Della was a sweetheart who trailed after her mother, following every step religiously.

The family had many acres of fields stretching around their mansion, as did everyone else in the county. Their fields were rich with grains that shipped out to the rest of the state. William had built up an empire that was now run smoothly by his wife. So, no, not a Weasley or Diggory was good enough for their daughter. She was much too young and had years ahead of her before she was considered an old spinster.

Many boys trailed after Y/n, begging for a chance to court her, and she was happy to flirt with them. The boys, after years of growing up around the same children their entire lives, soon learned how to gain Y/n’s attention. They had to catch her when her father was busy, otherwise she would turn into his perfect, sweet little girl who could do no wrong. If her sisters were around, the younger girls would try to steal the attention and Y/n would revert to her cool, unimpressed self that none of the boys could crack. However, if the girl was at a ball or they rode over to her house to catch her reading on the porch, that’s when she would flirt and touch their arm lightly with her coy smile.

But it was not the Weasley twins or the Diggory boy that Y/n wanted. It was Harry Potter. The boy was so oblivious, it was tantalising. He had a mature air around him that no other boy did. He would ride up to her house every Sunday on his majestic white horse, Hedwig, and speak to her like no one else did. He read her poems and took her riding and was just so pretty. He talked a lot about politics and the different families of the South, and that Y/n didn’t like, but he made it up with the little gifts he brought her. There was that lace fan he brought her after his Grand Tour and even some pressed flowers in a thick book. She tried to read the book to show Harry that she cared, but it had such tiny print and was about boring law that she gave up after the first couple of paragraphs.

It was a cool June evening and the windows were open at the L/n villa. The soft breeze ruffled the curtains when the neighbour’s gossip finally reached the ladies in the house. A new engagement in the state! The four females sat at the dining table, William at the head, seemingly bored. Odessa asked excitedly who would be going to the engagement party, thinking of her dear George Weasley.

“It seems like everyone in the county,” Peggy commented, regurgitating what she had learned from the women in her cross-stitch group. “The Weasleys, the Longbottoms, the Malfoys.”

William scoffed and rattled off, “the Weasleys? Their entire brood? And the Longbottoms? They’re hardly in high society. Why invite them? And must we engage with the Malfoys? You know how they get, dear Peggy.”

“William,” Peggy reprimanded, clicking her tongue. “It’s Ginerva’s engagement. Do be kind.”

Y/n raised her head from her plate and asked, “Ginny’s getting married? The little one? To whom? Wasn’t that boy Dean Thomas pursuing her?”

“No, no,” Peggy waved her daughter off. “He was a nice young lad, but they never got along.” She took a bite of food as if she wasn’t about to deliver earth-shattering news to her unsuspecting daughter. “She’s getting married to Harry Potter.”

Y/n didn’t think she heard the rest of the conversation. Small Ginny Weasley, the girl with the choppy red hair and ugly dresses, was marrying her Harry? The Harry that had the most beautiful eyes and lovely lilting words and understanding conversations? Yes, their families were close and Harry was best friends with Ginny’s older brother, but he loved Y/n. She knew it. The way he lit up when he saw her and the way his smile slowly stretched over his lips until he was laughing so hard he couldn’t breathe. All of that was her Harry.

“Y/n?” Della asked from the other side of the table, always aware of her elder sister. “Are you alright?” But the girl couldn’t say anything. For if she did, then her whole family would know her secret. And then her mother would be embarrassed and aghast. Her father would think of her as yet still a child, brushing away her affection. Lousy Odessa would gossip to George Weasley and his twin, wanting to win over their favour, and the twins would surely tell their engaged sister. Della wouldn’t understand, the poor girl just an infant in Y/n’s eyes.

“Yes, yes, I’m alright,” Y/n muttered. “Father, I’m feeling a bit faint. I think something with the salad didn’t sit right with me. I’m to lie down.”

William muttered permission, waving his daughter away. Y/n tried not to run to her room, for fear it would give her emotions away. But the moment her door was locked safely behind her, she fell onto her bed, sobbing. How could Harry do this to her?

Oh, what was her life coming to?

Y/n had a plan. If only she could get Harry alone at his engagement party and confess her true feelings, he would see they were meant to be together. The problem was that Ginny stuck to his side like annoying glue. It seemed as if the two were off in their own little world, gazing into each other's eyes. Well, Y/n huffed to herself, two can play that game. That’s how she found herself surrounded by beaus from all over the county.

Cedric Diggory sat on the bench next to her and the Weasley twins sat at her feet on the grass. Fred Weasley went even farther and laid his head on her skirts dramatically whenever he wanted her attention. Neville Longbottom stood beside them all, looking nervously back at his Gran, who was determined to get her grandson connected to the L/n’s. Even Dean Thomas, still getting over his loss of Ginny Weasley, was there, trying to talk to an anxious Neville.

Batting her eyes and fanning herself playfully under the pretence of the hot sun, Y/n walked the line of flirtatious and bashful perfectly. She could feel the glares of all the other girls at the party, but she ignored them. She was talking to George Weasley when she spotted another boy to catch in her web. “Oh, Georgie, the Malfoy’s are here,” she commented smoothly.

This caught the rest of the suitor’s attention. “Oh, joy,” Fred said sarcastically, rolling his eyes. “Come, Y/n, let me whisk you heroically away before that greased boy tries to woo you.”

“You mean Draco?” Y/n laughed melodically, which made Neville blush deeply. “Oh, he’s no harm. A bit rude and uppity, but just a boy when it all comes down to it.”

“Yes, but a boy,” Fred confirmed. “You, love, need a man.” At that, he took her hand and kissed her knuckles.

Y/n opened her fan and hid her face behind it teasingly. “Oh, Mr. Fred, you charmer,” she chastised.

“Oh, my,” Cedric breathed out, which made Y/n’s attention turn from Fred, who pouted, to the Diggory boy. Did the Malfoy’s bring a girl that captured Cedric’s eye? Oh, that would be horrid for her plan. But, no. Following Cedric’s stare, Y/n saw another man emerge with Mr. Lucious Malfoy.

“Who is that?” she asked without thinking, placing a hand on Cedric’s arm.

“What on earth is he doing here?” Dean Thomas demanded, back stiffening and hands clasping behind his back. His voice was just loud enough for Y/n and her suitors to hear. But he didn’t answer her question.

Y/n huffed slightly and turned to Neville. He would always be at her beck and call. “Neville, who is that man?” she asked again, tone firm.

Neville tore his eyes away from the mysterious man and stuttered, “uh, well, Miss Y/n, that’s Mattheo Riddle.” He slowly sat down next to her, as if testing the waters.

“Mattheo Riddle?” Y/n repeated, the name feeling heavy on her tongue. “Why, I’ve never heard of him.”

“Then your father did a good job,” Fred glowered. It seemed as if he wasn’t the only one shooting dirty looks at the new man.

Dean Thomas agreed, “yes, no respectable lady should have heard of him. An absolute abomination of a gentleman.”

Y/n’s eyes widen in the presence of new gossip and scandal, something all ladies of the county grasped for. None were above whispering to their friends behind their hands whenever they heard something enticing. “Whatever did he do?” she asked desperately.

Cedric was the one to inform her that Mr. Mattheo Riddle was the infamous bastard child of Tom Riddle and Bellatrix Lestrange. That made him the nephew of Narcissa and Lucius Malfoy. Allegedly, Mr. Riddle’s father had left him and his mother at a young age, only making visits when he felt it necessary to shape Mr. Riddle into a harsh young man. Mr. Riddle had left to join the military, but was dishonourably discharged when he shot and killed another man for speaking ill of his family and upbringing. He then followed in his father’s footsteps of backalley trading and illicit affairs. With his father and mother’s separate fortunes, along with the one he earned, he had amassed large wealth.

Y/n couldn’t help but watch Mattheo Riddle. Neville tried to hold a conversation with the girl, and she tried to entertain him, she really did, but the way Mr. Riddle held himself on the outskirts of the party captivated her. With a drink swirling in one hand and the other tucked smartly behind his back, he looked… perfunctorily debonair.

For a man a decade older than her, he was incredibly handsome. He was easily the best dressed man at the party, even better than Lucius Malfoy himself. And his hair was most unusual. Rather than the slicked back style that most young boys wore, his had more volume, showing his curls. Y/n could see his striking and calculative eyes from across the yard. They took one sweep around the party, yet glazed over her.

It took everything within Y/n not to march over to the newcomer and demand his attention. Why were his eyes not on her? But then Neville placed a concerned hand on her back and asked if she was okay. He really is a sweet boy, Y/n thought to herself. “Yes, I’m alright,” she assured him. “I just may go lie down with the rest of the ladies.”

“Oh! Of course!” Neville scrambled to his feet and helped her up. Fred Weasley let out a whine when his headrest disappeared, but understood how a delicate lady needed her rest.

“Thank you, Neville,” Y/n said sincerely. She patted his hand and whispered theatrically, “you know… you didn’t hear this from me, but I think Miss Luna Lovegood fancies you.” Neville turned a dark shade of red as Y/n made her way to the house.

But she wasn’t going to nap. With the rest of the girls also laying down, including Ginny, this was her chance to speak to Harry. She would confess her love and he would tell her he always reciprocated and then he would break off his engagement and perhaps Ginny would be sad, but Y/n’s parents couldn’t get mad once they saw how happy their daughter was.

Once inside, Y/n saw Harry bid a loving goodbye to Ginny, the latter who went upstairs to nap. Her future fiancé then turned around and noticed her. “Y/n,” he greeted with a grin. He leaned down to press a chaste kiss to her cheek. “How are you? You’ve been so busy all party, I didn’t have the chance to talk to you!” Ah, so he had seen her with her suitors. Pride filled her. This was going perfectly.

“Harry, could we talk in the library?” Y/n asked, smiling up at him, an intoxication of love filling her veins. Harry raised a curious brow, but agreed. He followed her into the library where he asked if everything was alright. “Yes, I’m fine,” she told him. “I only need to tell you something, Harry.”

“And what is that?” Harry replied with a grin, thinking it was all some lighthearted joke.

Y/n pressed a hand to her chest and looked up at him, eyes wide and pleading. “Oh, Harry,” she began. “I must say something now before you go on with this whole affair! I mean, it is truly noble of you to sacrifice yourself for the poor girl, but I couldn’t let you go on with it! Especially when I know your feelings, Harry,” she said. The boy’s expression slowly changed to one of merriment to one of guarded concern. “I’m in love with you, Harry!” Y/n exclaimed, reaching forward to clasp his hands. “I have been all my life and I know you feel the same! So why marry Ginerva when you could marry me?”

Harry didn’t say anything for a moment before he slowly retracted his hands from her gloved grip. “Y/n,” he said slowly. “I’m utterly flattered. But I’m marrying Ginny. I can’t… I can’t love you, you know that, yes?”

Confusion showed on Y/n’s face, but a small smile still managed to quirk up on her lips. “But you do, don’t you?” she asked. “Love me, I mean. I know you do, Harry.” After a moment of hesitance, she added, “right?”

“Dear,” Harry said, taking her hands in his and patting them reassuringly. “I’ve always been fond of you. You’re very witty and brave. But that’s not… that’s not who I need. I need Ginny,” he stated, looking uncomfortable. “You’re a lovely girl. Any man would be lucky to have you. But… I’m not that man for you.”

Y/n didn’t remember the rest of the conversation. She was sure Harry said some more nice things, all very awkwardly, and she remembered that he kissed her lightly on the cheek, but then she was left alone. She let herself fall onto a nearby settee, face flushed and hand on her stomach. She felt sick. But she also felt mad. Terribly mad. And yet, depressed. Too many emotions were swirling around her that she wasn’t herself when, with a yell, she picked up a vase and hurled it across the room. With a satisfying smash, it crackled and split onto the floor, just like her poor heart.

A low, amused chuckle filled the room and Y/n whirled around to see Mattheo Riddle sitting up on a couch. “What- who- what are you doing here?!” Y/n cried.

“Why, I was just taking a nap when I got disturbed by an unrequited declaration of love and a splintered vase. Whose is that anyways?” Mr. Riddle asked smoothly, shoulders still shaking from his laughter. “Whom will your father have to pay off?”

“Don’t you dare tell my father!” Y/n said, somewhere between desperate and demanding. “Oh, you sordid man! You have no right to listen in on a private conversation.”

“A rather amusing conversation,” Mr. Riddle chuckled, a wry smile stretching his lips. “I never thought you the type to lust after Mr. Potter.”

Y/n’s skirts swirled around her as she turned away from him in anger but then rounded on him again. “You don’t know a thing about me, sir! Why, I’ve never seen you before in my life.”

“And yet by the way you court all those other men, them begging after you like dogs, gives me a glimpse into your character.” It was then that Mr. Riddle took her hand in the most gentle way possible and laid a kiss upon her knuckles. The girl stilled. “Mattheo Riddle, at your service only, dear.”

“My service only?” is what Y/n could think to reply, not even giving her name like a proper lady would.

Mattheo inclined his head in a coy manner. “Yes.”

After a beat, Y/n grumped, “is that all you’re going to say?”

“I have nothing else to say.” Mattheo shrugged. One of his brows raised innocently. But Y/n got the feeling he was anything but. “Other than to ask for your name,” he added.

“Miss Y/n L/n and you will address me as such,” Y/n declared. “None of that ‘dear’ sobriquet.”

“Well, Miss Y/n L/n,” Mattheo began. “You best be hurrying along. The other women will wake from their rest soon and you wouldn’t want to be caught in the library with me, a sordid man.” He repeated her words back, but mockery laced his tone.

Y/n’s face grew hot and she spluttered a bit, looking very flustered and angered. Mr. Riddle watched on in amusement. “And how do I know you’ll keep your mouth shut about what you heard?” she asked finally.

At that, Mattheo Riddle smirked. “You don’t. You’ll just have to trust me.”

A week later was Harry and Ginny’s wedding. Y/n wore a deep blue dress, bordering on black. Yet she smiled and cheered along with the rest of the guests, even as her joy slipped away. She had half a mind to propose to Neville just to pull some attention onto her.

Mr. Mattheo Riddle was not there. Not that Y/n noticed.

She was sitting on the porch about three days later, pitying herself as she worked on her embroidery. She was trying to stitch a lovely sunrise, but she just couldn’t get a cloud right. She hardly heard the sounds of horse hooves clopping down the drive. “Miss Y/n L/n,” a gratingly familiar voice called out.

She sighed and her hands fell to her lap in exasperation. “I’m doing my embroidery!” she called back. “I don’t have time for eavesdropping men who dub me frustrating monikers.”

“You sure know plenty of synonyms for nicknames,” Mattheo commented, swinging his leg over his horse to dismount.

“Father keeps me well read.”

Mattheo bounded up the porch steps to reach her, but then realised that looked too childish, no matter how much he wanted to see her. He quickly composed himself. “And what is the lovely lady sewing?” he asked, settling into the rocking chair near her.

“I don’t recall inviting you up for a chat,” she said snarkily. After a moment where he just smirked at her, she replied, “and it’s a sunset. Or a sunrise. I’m not entirely sure yet. Whatever it is, it’s mightily frustrating.” She pricked her finger with the needle and exclaimed out.

Mr. Riddle’s brows furrowed and he took the cross-stitch away, not wanting her to get any more hurt. “Don’t you have a maid to stitch this for you?”

“Mother thinks every proper lady should know how to wield a needle and thread,” Y/n said, her back straightening. She then scowled. “Of course, Odessa has already perfected hers.”

It was then that the girl noticed Mr. Mattheo Riddle carefully stitching her embroidery, his nimble fingers tugging and looping the needle perfectly. Noticing her shocked face, Mattheo explained, “my grandmother taught me how. It was one of her favourite pastimes. I pricked myself many times — just like you. Of course, my father found it too feminine, but I just liked spending time with my grandmother. Perhaps that’s why my grandmother taught me her craft: so I could spare you some trouble and pain. I will gladly do so, darling.”

The air settled around them. Her father’s hounds were barking in the field and she could hear the servants singing from behind the house, doing laundry. She shifted in her seat. “What was her name?” Y/n asked cautiously, still not trusting this man.

“Merope,” Mattheo answered softly. “The poor thing had memory loss, you know. She couldn’t remember my name, much less what we had stitched last time I had visited. But she loved me. And so she taught me how to embroider over and over again.”

Y/n swallowed thickly. She could almost envision Mattheo as a child, climbing onto his grandma's lap to watch her sew out a work of art. Maybe they had sat on a rocking chair on a porch, just like she and Mattheo did now. She watched him finish the cloud she had been working on before handing her back the hoop. “Why are you here?” she wondered, staring down at the cloud, which was done much better than her own.

“To convince you that you can trust me.” And with that, he stood and kissed her forehead before straightening his suit and walking back to his horse. As he gripped the reins in his hands, he yelled back, “oh, and to inform you that I’ll be competing for your hand!”

She saw him next about two months later, at another county party. But this party was special. It was all for Y/n.

William L/n had gone all out for his eldest daughter. This was the day when all the formal suitors presented themselves. Yes, Fred and George Weasley had been courting her for years, but it would now be official. Not only were two of the Weasleys there, but Cedric Diggory, Oliver Wood, Ernie Macmillan, and Dean Thomas and his close friend, Seamus Finnigan. Neville Longbottom was now happily engaged to Luna Lovegood.

As much as Y/n put on a front, being surrounded by men, some of which were years older, was intimidating. She flirted and blushed and acted like a lady, but when Seamus Finnigan talked to Cedric Diggory about the growth of their family’s crops, talking around Y/n as Oliver Wood tried to entertain her with polo facts, she felt useless. Bored. Like a prop to be placed on someone’s arm.

That’s when Mattheo Riddle walked in. He stayed on the outskirts of the party for a long while, observing. He didn’t hide the fact that he was watching Y/n’s attention be snapped up by suitor after suitor. His eyes were already on hers whenever she glanced up to him. It was a dangerous game he was playing, but one he didn’t want to quit. Maybe this was what had drawn him to this little county in the countryside. Maybe Draco’s letter of invitation wasn’t all for naught. It couldn’t be, not when her eyes made him feel more alive than ever before. Mattheo Riddle made a promise to himself, then and there, as he watched the seven suitors surrounding Y/n. He would marry that girl.

Only a few minutes later did Ernie Macmillan chuckle in disbelief. “Is that Mattheo Riddle?” he asked. Y/n let the other men answer, for fear of sounding as if she had been gazing at the forbidden man. Which, if her father asked, she had not.

“Sir!” Seamus Finnigan called out from where he was lounging on the couch. His arm hung over the back of Y/n’s chair, something he found courage to do with the whiskey flowing through his veins. “Come join us, I beg you.”

Mattheo quirked a brow but strode over from where he was leaning against the wall. “Gentlemen,” he greeted smoothly. “How are you all this fine day?” He shook hands with each man. It was only then he allowed his eyes to settle on Y/n. “Ah, my dear Miss Y/n.” Her eyes watched the way his lip curved into a smile. “It’s lovely to see you here.” He took her hand in his and brushed her knuckles to his lips. It took all of Y/n’s restraint not to take in a shaky breath.

“Why, this is her party, after all,” Fred Weasley said, smirking. “Why wouldn’t she be here?”

“Mr. Weasley.” Mattheo turned to the man. “Perhaps if you had paid attention to my words, I never said I was surprised to see her, only delighted. And I can assure you, I am very delighted.” George Weasley snickered and clapped his twin on the shoulder. Fred just glared at the Riddle heir.

Mattheo sat down on the ottoman by Y/n’s feet, posture straight and perfect. An electrifying shiver ran down his spine as Y/n asked how he was. “Splendid,” he told her. “After all, I am in your presence. Darling, if any of these men told you they were less than splendid, I’ll offer to kick them to the street at your command.” The suitors chuckled at the joke, but Mattheo just held his future wife’s gaze. They both knew he meant every word.

Oliver Wood shook his head. “I still can’t believe I have the honour to meet the Mattheo Riddle. From all the rumours, I thought you were surely a ghost story.”

“I hate to disappoint,” came the easy reply.

“No, no disappointment here.” Oliver held up his hands. “Just surprise. I didn’t expect to see you here.”

Mattheo stared down the man. “Why wouldn’t I be here?”

Oliver stammered out, “well, because people see you as- as well, good sir, I needn’t offend, but-”

“Cruel?” Mattheo supplied. After the awkward glances were exchanged between the suitors, he continued, “Unwanted? Cynical, unfeeling, only out for himself and his riches? Well, I can’t say you’re wrong,” he said simply. “I’ve done unhonourable things and I’ve lived my life for my own gain. But that doesn’t mean I don’t have feelings. Or that I can’t love,” he finished, eyes on Y/n.

She shifted under his stare and opened her fan to hide her blush. “I may go lay down,” she whispered out. The seven men around her began to protest, but Mr. Riddle simply held his hand out for her to take. He helped her stand and then bid her farewell. He settled back onto the ottoman to which the other men glared at him.

“Why can’t you corrupt some other girl?” Ernie Macmillan grumbled into his whiskey glass that he took a long swallow of. The other suitors seemed to deflate as well, now calling for more alcohol, slouching in their seats, and using more vulgar language. It was only Mattheo Riddle that kept his posture, his little cup of whiskey, and preserved tone. But even he felt a flare of anger at Mr. Macmillan’s words. “Take another girl for your wife. But leave this one for the rest of us. Why do you suddenly have a claim over her?”

“Another girl, you say?” Mattheo repeated, voice low and protective. “Take another one for my wife and leave her for the rest of you? Is that what you think I want? To just take any girl as my wife? No,” he stated, plain and simple, “I want her and only her. And why do I have a sudden claim over her? I don’t. And do not mistake her for a girl, Macmillan. She is a fierce woman, one none of you boys could handle. But perhaps… Perhaps I have fallen in love with her. Against all reason and sanity,” he added in a mutter, taking a swig of whiskey.

“But it’s foolish!” Fred Weasley exclaimed as all other men were stunned to silence. “You- you’ve only met the girl – pardon, woman – once. More than two months ago. And serving my memory, you never even talked to the Miss.” Fred’s memory didn’t have all the facts, as Mr. Riddle had met Y/n twice and had talked to her on both occasions.

Mattheo shot back, “love often makes us do foolish things, does it not? And I’m willing to be a fool for her, if that’s what it takes.”

Cedric Diggory studied Mattheo for a moment before musing, “you’re an admirable man, Mr. Riddle. But you must know I, along with the rest of these men, will still fight for her hand. And we have an advantage: her father’s approval.”

“What does her father’s approval mean if you don’t have her heart?” Mattheo asked. “If she doesn’t love you, what good does it do?”

“Well, does she love you?” Seamus Finnigan implored, trying to turn the tables on the man.

At that, Mr. Riddle rested his weight on the palm of his hand, leaning back. Even though his face was collected, a brush of pain swept over his heart, knowing the answer was uncertain. “Does she love me?” he echoed, tone soft. “I hope so.” He knew when it was best to shut up, so he didn’t say what he really wanted to; she hasn’t said the words, but I see it in her eyes. I see the fire in her, the same fire that burns within me. “You may think it hopeless,” he observed, looking at the other men. “That it’s foolish, believing she could return my love. Call me a fool, then. But I know what I feel, and I won’t give up on her, no matter how hopeless it may seem.”

Y/n had made it a habit of sitting outside, in case Mattheo Riddle came riding by again. Her efforts weren’t in vain, for a couple days later, his horse trotted up.

The coy look on his face showed he was feeling sly and quick-witted that day. He would make Y/n vie for his affections, no doubt in her mind. He dismounted with a flourish and a smirk, his coattails flipping out behind him. “Ah, my dear Miss L/n,” he called out, his voice carrying mischief. “I hope I find you well today!”

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard you call me by my last name,” Y/n replied, setting her book down. “‘Miss Y/n’, or perchance ‘dear’ or ‘darling’, but never Miss L/n.”

“Hmm, my apologies, my dear,” he said as he strode up towards her, mock formality in his voice. “I suppose I’ve become accustomed to calling you by your given name. But I do like the sound of ‘Miss L/n’ as well. It has a certain… ring to it.” He took a seat on the rocking chair next to her and studied her book. “Never thought you the type to read Hunchback of Notre Dame.”

“It’s a love story,” Y/n defended.

“It most certainly is not,” Mattheo chuckled. “You’ve read it before, I assume?”

Y/n huffed. Why she continued to entertain Mr. Riddle was beyond her. “His devotion is clear. And yes, I have. Anyway, before you so very rudely interrupted me, I was going to say I thought you would detest my last name.”

Mattheo clicked his tongue and leaned back in his chair. “There isn’t much I could detest when it comes to you,” he admitted, glancing over slyly at her.

“How sweet.” Y/n rolled her eyes sardonically, but couldn’t help but smile. She added after a moment, “though I still thought you would dislike it.”

He shot her a lazy smile. He hadn’t felt this relaxed in a long time, looking out over her family’s lands. “And why would I dislike it, my darling?”

Y/n let out a soft, mischievous laugh. “Well, I thought surely you’d want to change it.”

“Change it, darling?” Mattheo raised a brow. “Pray tell, what would I change it to?”

Her eyes travelled to the sky, for if Y/n was to look at Mr. Riddle, her gaze would be transfixed on his lips. She swallowed and said slowly, “something that sounds like yours?”

Mattheo’s stare snapped towards her. “Are you suggesting what I think you are?” he murmured in a soft tone.

Ever playing coquettish, the woman responded, “what do you think I’m suggesting?”

Mattheo leaned in a bit closer, his heart beating faster at the notion he was about to say. “I think you’re suggesting you’d like to carry the Riddle surname, my darling,” he replied. “Is that what you’re implying?”

“Perhaps,” Y/n forced out after a short silence.

“And here I thought you thought me brutish and sordid.” When Y/n didn’t answer, an embarrassed flush on her cheek, he said in a quiet voice, “you know, if you enjoy Hunchback, you should see Notre Dame in person. Paris is lovely. We should go sometime.” He crossed one leg over the other and turned his attention back towards the horizon.

Y/n’s lips curved into a small smile. “I would like that.”

“Of course,” Mattheo added, clearing his throat, “if you’re still hung up on Mr. Potter, then you should probably go with him.”

Why, Y/n hadn’t thought about Harry once in the past weeks. How peculiar. And based on the little smirk on Mattheo’s face, he knew it. “I don’t think Harry and I were the right fit,” she said eventually.

“Oh?”

“No,” she mused. “It’s frustrating, yes? You think you have your whole life planned ahead and then… it gets ripped away from you.”

“Or maybe it’s just getting started,” Mattheo muttered. “Your life, I mean. You’re young, Y/n. And Harry Potter shouldn’t dictate whether or not your life has started or ended.”

“I’m not getting any younger,” Y/n complained. “Father wants to marry me off to a good, wealthy man before I turn twenty-five. I thought with Harry, I could get some love out of it as well.”

Mattheo asked honestly, “would it matter if you loved your husband if your husband loved you with everything in him?”

Y/n’s fingers fiddled with the pages of her book. “I think if someone loved me that much,” she whispered, “it would be impossible not to love him back.”

Mattheo felt his hand twitch as he looked down at her fingers. Slowly, he reached out to encircle her palm in his. His warm hand held hers loosely, so that Y/n could pull away if she wished, but just firmly enough that she could sense his devotion.

“Why… why are you doing this?” Y/n asked.

“The truth?” Once Y/n nodded, he continued, “I see the fire in you… The same fire that burns in me. Well, that used to burn in me.” Mattheo paused. “I’m sure you know of my father. I hated the man, and am ashamed to call him a father. But, even so, after he died, I’ve felt… stuck, Y/n. If we’re to keep with the fire analogy, I fizzled out. Yet with you…” he chuckled and shook his head. “Well, I’m sure you know where I’m going with this.”

“So what do you want me to do?” Y/n whispered. “Is this you proposing marriage, Mr. Riddle?” She smirked, even though her heart began beating a bit more quickly.

When Mattheo shook his head, she couldn't help but feel just a little bit disappointed. “No, that’s much too soon for you. Maybe in two or three years. But…” he threw her a wry grin, squeezing her hand lightly. “This is me proposing I begin courting you.”

“What?” Her hand flexed around his. “Really?”

“You can trust me.”

Four years later, because Y/n was notoriously stubborn when it came to her beau, Mattheo Riddle got down on one knee. “My darling dear,” he teased, using the nicknames he knew she hated. Y/n rolled her eyes in response. “You have made me wait what seems like millennia to finally officially call you mine. Of course, I’d wait aeons more, but I’m hoping that today, you’ll put me out of my misery and give me the honour of being your husband.”

“You’ll take me to Paris for the honeymoon?” Y/n asked, despite the tears shining in her eyes.

Mattheo let out a loud, joyful laugh. “Yes, yes I will.” And as he slid the ring on her finger, he murmured, “you can trust me.”

“I always have.”

[missjomarch]

catching flights

luca fantilli x reader word count: 1.5k warnings: none :) just fluff a/n: unedited and first writing in a while. I needed something to force the writers block out of me :')

You anxiously drummed your fingers against your arm rest as you glanced out the window for what felt like the millionth time. It had been about 10 minutes since the flight attendant announced that the plane would be landing soon, instructing everyone to fasten their seatbelts. However, it wasn't the landing that had your heart pounding.

You hadn't seen your family or your boyfriend, Luca, in 5 months. Originally, you had been ecstatic to embark on your study abroad trip to France. But you had been entirely unprepared for how much you would miss the people back home, Luca especially.

Having moved from your home in New York to Michigan for college, you were accustomed to being distanced from your family. However, you'd been with Luca almost everyday for the past year and a half. While you two had never navigated a long distance relationship, you were both confident your relationship could survive the trip.

You had planned the whole thing out, scheduling FaceTime dates often and promising to update each other pictures throughout the week (yours were admittedly a lot more interesting). Luca even had flowers delivered to you from a local florist in France on multiple occasions. Your love didn't dwindle with the distance, but it was the smaller things the two of you didn't account for prior to the trip.

Both of you struggled with the time difference, of course, but being without each others support on the hard days was the most difficult part. You couldn't go curl up in Luca's bed after a bad day, or meet him for coffee during your class break. There were no pregame naps or post win parties to be had. But the absolute worst part was missing hockey playoffs.

Luca was always incredibly hard on himself after a loss, and the playoffs only amplified this. You had to watch through your phone screen as he broke down after losing in the championship. You didn't think it could get worse than the lose to Quinnipiac the year before, but somehow it had. You did your best to comfort him from afar, but it shattered your heart seeing his pain and being unable to just be there. Not only did it pain you to see Luca's defeat, but the rest of the boys as well. The team had become your family, most of the boys even referred to you as 'mom', and you hated being unable to comfort them.

After that night in April, time seemed to go by a little quicker, and you were now finally headed home. You had begun counting down the days until your return the second your plane landed in France. And, despite him chastising you for this, so had Luca. But the day had finally come, and Luca would be waiting to pick you up and the airport.

He had texted you that morning to let you know he'd be picking you up instead of your mom. To say you were excited would be a drastic understatement. Originally, he wasn't going to be able to come see you in New York until 2 weeks after your arrival because of a golf trip with 'the boys'. But, in his words, he "missed you too much". So he skipped the trip to come welcome you home instead.

The plane landed at the airport right on schedule, and you quickly grabbed your carry-on before making your way to baggage claim. After you told Luca you had landed, he sent you the location of where he'd be waiting. You were about to burst with excitement, entirely prepared to grab your bag and haul ass to the airport lobby.

However, as you descended on the escalator you noticed a familiar blond smiling up at you. Luca had already grabbed your bags, and was waiting for you near a bench in the corner.

You couldn't stop the wide grin that formed, and you had to refrain from toppling over the people in front of you on the escalator. As soon as you reached the bottom, you were sprinting towards him.

"Lu!" you shouted, dropping your bags and practically tackling your boyfriend. Your arms wrapped around his neck as your legs found his waist, and you were finally reunited. You had promised yourself that you wouldn't get overly emotional, but you could feel the tears that were beginning to well. Luca chuckled as you clung to him, wrapping his arms around you to return the tight embrace.

"There's my girl," Luca mumbled into your hair, inhaling the sweet scent of your perfume for the first time in months.

You couldn't care less about the attention you had attracted with your dramatic display. It was just you and Luca in the world right now, that's all that mattered. You basked in his embrace for what felt like hours. He didn't release his hold until he heard your sniffles, only then did he pull away to look at your tear streaked face.

A look of concern crossed his face, "Hey, no tears. What's that all about?"

"I just really missed you," you mumbled, slightly embarrassed by your level of emotion.

Luca had set you down now, and his hands came up to brush your hair from your face before resting on your cheeks. A small smile played at his lips.

"I missed you too, love. But there's no need for tears. You're back with me now, yeah?" You nodded in response, sending a small smile back. "And you're literally not going to be able to get rid of me for the entire summer. You're gonna be tired of me before the month is over."

You shook your head at this, "I could never get tired of you, Lu."

Luca didn't respond, instead leaning down to give you a long overdue kiss. Your hands made their way to grab where his wrists rested by your face. You pulled away before the kiss could get too intense, but you both still pulled away breathing heavily.

Luca rested his forehead against yours, "God, I missed that so much."

"Really?" You scoff, playfully shoving his shoulder, "Is that all I'm good for Fantilli?"

"Well I definitely didn't miss your attitude," Luca rolled his eyes, only to be met with you smacking him across the head. He quickly corrected himself.

"Ouch. I mean of course not, baby. I love everything about you."

"That's what I thought." You were about to place another kiss to your boyfriend's lips when an all too familiar voice sounded to your left.

"You guys can't seriously be fighting already."

"Come on Fants, she just got back."

You look to find none other than Seamus and Rutger approaching you. You gasp, quickly wiggling out of Luca's hold to throw your arms around the boys.

"MY BABIES!!" You exclaim, practically jumping with excitement. Luca stands to the side, jaw dropped as he watches the interaction.

"Damn, Fantilli. We've done stole your woman," Rutger pokes at Luca, giggling at the scowl on your boyfriend's face.

"You two were supposed to wait in the car," Luca grumbles, voice exposing his mild jealousy.

"And miss this reaction? Not a chance, bro."

Luca only glares at Seamus, turning to wrap his arm around your waist. He presses a chaste kiss to your temple before mumbling a "surprise" in your ear.

"Careful, Lu. You're looking a bit green." You whisper back to your boyfriend.

Luca groans, "The least they could do is give me 15 minutes alone with my girlfriend. Who I haven't seen in 5 months, in case you forgot." Luca sends a pointed look to the two boys standing before you.

They both just shrug, throwing their hands up in mock surrender.

"Neither have we, bro. That's our mom. It's on you for bringing us along," Rutger says.

"And I'm sure you guys will get plenty of alone time tonight," Seamus suggests, winking at you.

"Okayyyy, that's enough of that," You joke, "I'm going to guess this means the boys trip wasn't actually canceled on my account."

"More like relocated," Luca responds with an innocent smile. You just roll your eyes, nodding in acceptance.

"We promise not to steal him away too much, y/n. Don't you worry."

You let out a small laugh, "thanks shea."

Turning to Luca, you yawn slightly. "I am incredibly jet lagged though, so can we go home?" Luca nodded, turning to grab your bags. You stop him, and he looks back at you confused.

You jerk your head to the two idiots behind you, "let them get it."

"I think your thinking," Luca smiles at you before intertwining his hand with yours. The boys grumble, but pick up your luggage nonetheless. They complain the entire way to the car, only to be met with your apathy.

"You two are the ones who decided to come inside. You could've been sitting pretty in the car instead," you smarted back. This shut them up quickly, and you looked up to find Luca grinning at you.

"What?"

"I missed you so much."