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pretentious-blonde · 4 days ago

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for you? always

pairing: steve harrington x reader

summary: you’re unravelling—badly—but steve refuses to let you fall apart alone

warnings: toxic work environments, crying, SWEET STEVE OMG

a/n: i made a part 3 but can be read as a STANDALONE, and once again, it is hurt/comfort. i just love sweet steve!!

series masterlist

It might be an exaggeration, but Steve Harrington didn’t think life could get much better than this.

He was standing behind the counter at Family Video, half-listening to Robin as she complained, not really giving her his full attention. She could have been ranting about his terrible sorting system, or the stain on the carpet neither of them had managed to get out since last week. He wasn’t too sure. His focus was more invested at the clock on the far wall, waiting for it to hit 6 p.m.

It was Friday night, closing time. Normally, he’d be stoked to clock out and get home, maybe lounge around or hang with the kids. But for almost four weeks now, his evenings had been filled with something—someone—more exciting.

He was aware of how annoying he had gotten. Hell, even Robin teased him about it, calling him the “lovesick puppy,” for the amount of times he was caught staring out the door wistfully, hoping you would wander in on your lunch break.

She wasn’t exactly wrong, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care. Plus, if he could put up with months of her pining after Vicky, she could put up with it for a little while longer.

Four weeks—four perfect weeks since that first time you let him take you out for dinner. He brought you to Enzo’s, the fanciest spot in town, really trying to impress you.

He couldn’t wipe the grin off his face remembering it: the two of you tucked into a booth, your eyes lighting up when you tasted the pasta, holding it up for him to try it from your fork, your giggle when he got some of the sauce on the side of his mouth. He became acutely aware of your laugh, actually. It was quickly becoming one of his favourite sounds.

After he’d driven you home that night and dropped you off at your door, he’d stood there, wanting so badly to kiss you, but also not wanting to assume just because you let him before, he could do it again.

So, he’d leaned in awkwardly, maybe an inch too far, and you’d given him the sweetest little smile that told him to relax and pulled him in the rest of the way. That moment was etched into his memory, something he found himself revisiting over and over.

And from there, it had only gotten better.

The second date at the local diner (you’d shared fries with him and stole a sip of his milkshake), the movie night where he insisted you pick the snacks—any snacks, your call—and still ended up grabbing M&Ms halfway through the film, claiming it was for “variety.” Then there was the afternoon you invited him over to bake cookies—insisting it would be a fun bonding activity—only to end up with flour in your hair and half the dough on the floor, while Steve practically bent over double laughing at how grumpy you looked in your patterned apron.

And that perfect night at Lover’s Lake. God, he was happy you hadn’t grown up around here. He took full advantage of your lack of knowledge about the location. It was magical, lying on a threadbare blanket underneath the stars. You’d called him “a total sap” when he waxed poetic about constellations he barely remembered the names of.

He had caught you smiling at him like he’d hung the moon himself. He’d stolen a kiss—okay, maybe two, or three—when you’d turned your head toward him, and the surprise on your face melted immediately into something so soft. It made him sure you were feeling the same as him. By the time he was driving you home, hand resting on your thigh, you both felt like you’d just lived out a scene in one of those old romance movies he pretended not to like.

Then came your visits to his territory. He could still picture the day you stepped through the door, a shy smile on your lips. He tried to maintain some level of professional cool, but the moment Robin saw you, she took it upon herself to tease him relentlessly. “So you’re the one Harrington won’t shut up about.”

He’d glared but couldn’t hide the flush in his cheeks. You’d just grinned, leaning against the counter, and introduced yourself to Robin, who then spent the rest of the shift chatting with you while Steve tried to play it cool and failed miserably.

Yet somehow, that failure felt okay—good, even—because seeing you click so easily with his best friend just made his day sweeter.

Yes, the last month had been a whirlwind—one that left him with a permanent giddy glow.

He liked you, really liked you, in a way he hadn’t felt in a long time. Maybe ever.

And it wasn’t just because you looked great in every light—though, let’s be honest, that didn’t hurt—but because you seemed to get him. You found humour in his dumb jokes, shared your own stories with him, and let him into your life without any of the hesitations or expectations he’d grown used to.

Even Robin had mentioned how he didn’t snap at customers as much. He threw a glance in her direction, who was now tapping her fingers on a shelf impatiently.

“Dude,” she said, rolling her eyes, “if you stare at that clock any harder, it’s gonna melt.”

“Give me a break,” Steve smirked, flicking his gaze back at the time. “I’m just… in a good mood, okay?”

“You just want to get out of here to see your girlfriend,” she teased in a sing-song voice.

“She’s not my—” He paused, the flush creeping over his cheeks again. “We haven’t exactly— I mean, yeah, we’re kinda… I dunno, it’s been a few weeks. She might be my girlfriend.”

Robin laughed, smacking him lightly on the arm as she approached. “You’re so far gone, it’s painful to watch. Honestly, it's jarring watching you be all heart-eyed lately.”

He wanted to deny it, but instead he found himself laughing too. Was it that obvious? Judging by the glances from Robin and the kids—especially Dustin—it definitely was. But he couldn’t bring himself to care; if being obvious meant you were in his life, then so be it.

Finally, the clock hit closing time. Steve turned, circling the counter to the front entrance. He flipped the sign to “Closed,” already imagining what he might do for the rest of the night.

You told him to come over that evening at around half past, maybe order some late-night takeaway, or go for a drive, or just hang out on the couch, do nothing but talk about your days. It all sounded equally perfect to him.

As he began turning off the main computer, the store’s phone rang, shrill and unexpected in the quiet. He exchanged a puzzled look with Robin.

Who the hell was calling this late?

You arrive at your apartment with shoulders hunched. Your day at The Hawkins Post had been a complete train wreck. You’d expected to face challenges when you got into journalism—no one just handed out dream assignments on a silver platter—but you hadn’t expected to be treated like the office errand girl.

All day, you’d been fetching coffees, photocopying pages, and biting your tongue whenever they cracked jokes at your expense.

You told yourself you could handle it, that it was just part of paying your dues. But this afternoon, when they were brainstorming story ideas for the week’s paper, you’d jumped at the chance to volunteer something—anything. Before you could even get more than a sentence out, they’d laughed it off, practically shooing you out of the room.

You clenched your fists, trying not to let tears burn at the back of your eyes as one of the senior editors—some balding guy who’d never bothered learning your name—actually said: “Why don’t you just get us another round of coffee, alright hun?”

You’d never felt so small in your life.

Now, alone in your living room, the tears finally came. Hot, embarrassing, unwelcome. You kicked off your shoes and tossed your bag aside, your mind buzzing with memories of the condescending smirks you’d gotten. It felt like a punch to the stomach. Made you question what you were even doing there.

The clock on your bookshelf read 6:00 p.m. That meant Steve was probably about to close. You’d said something about grabbing dinner, or even just hanging out at your place to watch that cheesy horror flick you’d both joked about. Normally, the thought would make your heart lift. But right now? You felt too raw to face him.

Not that you didn’t want to see him—you did, desperately. But something inside you balked at the idea of letting him see you like this: tear-streaked, puffy-eyed, humiliated.

It’s too soon for that, you had only known him for about a month. No point in handing him your emotional baggage just yet. Maybe that was a two or three-month sort of milestone.

With trembling fingers, you picked up the phone and dialed the number he’d scribbled on a scrap of paper “just in case” you needed him. A part of you wished you had the strength to ask for him, to ask for comfort, but you couldn’t bring yourself to do so.

It rang a few times, and your stomach twisted painfully. Then, his voice came through, warm and cheerful, exactly what you needed and exactly what you felt you didn’t deserve right now.

“Steve?” you asked hesitantly.

“Hey, sweetheart,” Steve’s tone instantly made your eyes sting with fresh tears. “I’m just finishing up here. Shouldn’t be too much longer. You alright?”

You swallowed, forcing your voice not to crack.

“Uh… yeah. I mean—no, not really.” You cringed at how shaky you sounded. “I’m not feeling so great, so, um… I think I’m gonna have to cancel tonight.”

There was a moment of silence, and you could practically hear his eyebrows shooting up. “Wait, really? You sure you’re okay? Like fever or something? I can—”

“N-no, I promise, I’m good,” you cut in too quickly, wiping at your cheeks even though he couldn’t see you. “Just think I need some rest.”

“Right. Yeah, okay.” He sounded so disheartened. You didn’t like disappointing him. “If you need anything, will you call me? I can be there in like ten minutes.”

You squeezed your eyes shut, guilt gnawing at you. He was so sweet, and you were lying. Well, half-lying. You weren’t okay. But you couldn’t tell him that. At least not yet.

“I’ll be fine,” you murmured instead. “Just… sorry to cancel.”

He hesitated, that warm voice going even softer. “No, don’t worry about it. Feel better, okay?”

“Yeah. Thanks, Steve,” you said, barely keeping it together. “Talk later.”

You hung up before your voice could betray you. The moment the line clicked, you tossed the phone aside, heart feeling heavier than before.

God, you just hoped he wouldn’t be upset—or that he wouldn’t pry deeper. You didn’t trust yourself not to break down if he asked the right questions.

Still, a tiny part of you wished he’d come anyway.

Steve set the receiver back on its cradle, staring at the phone for a moment longer than necessary. His stomach did a little flip, the kind it did when something was wrong. He could usually read you pretty well by now—your moods, the subtleties in your tone. And that phone call? It screamed distress.

Robin, who’d been watching from across the store, raised an eyebrow. “What’s going on?”

Steve ran a hand through his hair, glancing at her. “She canceled.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry.” Robin’s face immediately fell into sympathy. “That really sucks.”

He shook his head, grimacing. “No, I don’t think it’s… I mean, I hope it’s not that. She sounded off, like… said she wasn’t feeling well.”

Robin tilted her head. “She’s sick? Flu or something?”

Steve chewed on his bottom lip, trying to reconcile the tension in his gut.

“She said she just needs rest. I offered to bring her something, but she shot it down.”

Robin gave him a long look, then sighed dramatically, piecing together the puzzle.

“Harrington, come on. You told me she just moved here, right? She’s got no family around? No close friends yet?”

“Yeah, she’s new,” he admitted, mind flashing back to the time you mentioned how weird it was living in a town where you barely knew anyone.

Robin folded her arms. “So, if she’s not feeling great, she’s gonna be alone.”

“Yeah,” Steve repeated, slower this time. A prickle of realisation stirred in him.

“Which might mean,” Robin continued in her usual exasperated tone, “that you, as the devoted whatever-you-are—boyfriend? friend? something—should maybe check on her anyway.”

His eyes widened. “But she said—”

“People say a lot of things,” Robin cut him off. “Sometimes they don’t want to feel like a burden. Or they’re embarrassed. You, of all people, should get that, right?”

A flicker of memory—Steve himself blowing off concerned offers because he didn’t want to look weak—made him swallow hard.

“Shit,” he muttered under his breath. “You think the pharmacy’s still open?”

Robin gave him a small, genuine smile. “Definitely. Swing by, grab some tea or cough drops, or whatever else might help. And maybe the grocery store for soup.”

Steve nodded firmly, adrenaline already buzzing in his veins. You’re alone. You’re upset. He sure as hell wasn’t going to let you suffer through that. Not if he could help it.

“You’re a genius.”

“Yeah, yeah, get out of here.” She waved him off. “And call me later—if you’re still alive. Just in case she actually has the plague or something.”

“Ha-ha,” he shot back as he flew around the counter, grabbing his jacket and headed for the door.

Steve hovered outside your apartment door, bouncing nervously on the balls of his feet, an overstuffed bag clutched in one hand. He’d stopped at three different stores, grabbing tea, soup, your favorite candy, a variety of painkillers—everything he could think of to help you feel better.

Maybe he was totally wrong about the situation. I mean, hey, it wouldn’t be the first time. Maybe you truly wanted space. Maybe he’d overstepped. Maybe he’d come off overbearing.

But the memory of your shaky voice on the phone nagged at him. He couldn’t just stay away. You’d insisted you were fine, but your voice cracked at the edges. Better to let you tell him in person than for you to suffer in silence.

So he took a breath, rang the doorbell, and braced himself.

When you opened the door, it was worse than he expected. Way worse. Every bit of resolve he’d mustered wavered.

You were still in your wrinkled work clothes, eyes red, cheeks blotchy. It was obvious you’d been crying, and the sight of it knocked the air from his lungs. Instantly, all of Steve’s doubts vanished, replaced by a need to do whatever he could to help.

“Hey,” he said softly, attempting a small, reassuring smile. You looked ready to apologise, but before you could say a word, your eyes brimmed with fresh tears. His heart clenched as he gently pushed the door open wider and slipped inside, letting the bag drop beside him.

“Hey, c’mon,” he murmured, pulling you toward him immediately. Not expecting to find you in this state, but nonetheless prepared to help. “It’s okay. Talk to me, yeah? Are you—are you feeling sick, or…?”

You stood there, overwhelmed, arms shaking as you let yourself cling to him. Steve’s heart ached—the same way it did when he saw one of the kids upset, except this was deeper, more urgent.

Your lips parted, but the words wouldn’t come. Instead, you closed your eyes and sank further against him, your breath catching in a muffled sob.

It was all he needed to hear.

He readjusted his arms to fit you better, cradling the back of your head, letting you cry into his shoulder. He could feel how shaken you were, how close you were to coming completely undone. It made him want to bury you in every comfort he could possibly give.

“Shh,” he whispered, voice steady. “I’ve got you. You’re okay. You’re alright.” He didn’t know if those things were true, but by the end of the evening, he would make sure they would be.

You pressed your face into his chest, holding him like he was the only solid thing in your life right now. He felt the tremor in your shoulders, the ragged rise and fall of your breaths, and it lit that familiar spark inside him—he needed to fix this. Except he didn’t know how yet. But he would try. So for now he just held you, gently running his hand across your back.

Eventually, he guided you away from the door, nudging it shut behind him with his foot. He decided it would be better to get you settled before trying to get you to talk.

“C’mon,” he murmured, leading you to the couch. “I…I brought a bunch of stuff—tea, soup, that candy you like…” He tried a tentative smile, but worry still ached in his gut.

Those things seemed rather redundant now that he spoke them aloud. When he looked at you, it appeared you didn’t even register what he was saying. Whatever was ailing you, it certainly wasn't the flu.

“Hey,” he said again, voice hushed so as not to scare you. “Please tell me what’s wrong.” His gaze flicked over your tear-stained cheeks, and you could practically feel the genuine concern radiating off him. “I just… I want to help. I can’t help until you tell me what’s wrong. So… let me try, okay?”

His words hung in the air, soft and pleading. There was so much earnestness in his eyes, it almost hurt. He was trying so hard, and you could tell he was moments away from offering every solution under the sun.

That was who he was—a guy who dove in headfirst, wanting to protect and fix. And though part of you still felt hesitant, the rest of you knew you needed him right now. His soft, brown eyes begging you to let him in.

It would be cruel to tell him not to worry, especially since he already saw the state you were in. You took a deep breath as you tried to gather your thoughts.

“Work was… hard,” you start, voice trembling on the last word.

Steve nods, encouraging you to continue. “Yeah?” He scoots a little closer. “Tell me about it, angel.”

You bite your lip, hesitating. The humiliation still burns in your chest, but as soon as you see the concern in his eyes, the words begin tumbling out.

“All the guys at the paper,” you say, swallowing hard, “they basically laughed in my face today. I wanted to pitch an idea—I thought, maybe if I showed some initiative, they’d take me seriously.” You pause, a bitter laugh escaping your throat. “Turns out, they don’t.”

He inches forward, the couch creaking beneath his weight. “They laughed?”

“Yeah,” you confirm, blinking away tears. “The whole room, practically. They didn’t even let me finish. Just told me to go make more copies or bring them more coffee. I felt so stupid. Like I’m not cut out for any of this.”

Your voice cracks, and Steve’s expression tightens with empathy. He raises a hand to your cheek, carefully brushing away a stray tear with his thumb before tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

“I know how you feel,” he says softly. Then he corrects himself with a small shrug. “Well, not exactly. I know someone else who went through that crap. I don’t know the full story, but from what I heard, it was awful.”

Nancy let slip here and there snippets from her time at The Hawkins Post. The incessant ridicule, the constant demeaning remarks. It irked him then, but now? He was vexed. Grown men picking on you all for a power trip? Unbelievable.

He had to school his anger before he said something regretful, he always did have a sharp tongue. What you needed now was comfort, not someone going on a rampage on your behalf.

“Really?” You ask.

“Yeah. But you know what I do know?” Steve continues, his voice dropping to a firm, truthful tone. “Those guys? They’re idiots, alright?”

“Maybe…” A shaky laugh escapes your lips, and you sniff, wiping at your nose with the back of your hand. “They made me feel like a complete joke.”

“No way. Not even close.” He shakes his head firmly, like he wants to banish that thought forever. He won’t allow you to linger in self-doubt. “You’re brilliant. Look, you picked up and moved across the country by yourself, found a place to live, and started a brand-new job in a town where you barely know anyone. That takes guts.”

You wrap your arms around yourself, feeling the weight of the day pressing in again.

“Feels like it was a dumb move,” you admit, voice quieter. “Like I’m playing dress-up in a grown-up’s world, and everyone else can see I’m an imposter.”

A flicker of protectiveness flashes across Steve’s face. He can’t stand the idea of you belittling yourself—he’s seen how you throw yourself into your work, how bravely you uprooted everything to move here, how determined you can be when you set your mind on something.

“Hey,” he says, tilting your chin so you’re forced to meet his eyes. “Don’t say that. You’re strong, you’re smart, and if they can’t see that, well…” He shrugs. “That’s on them. They’re the ones missing out. I swear half those guys probably haven’t stepped foot outside of Indiana.”

When you lean into him, relief flickers in his chest.

Thank God, maybe he’s getting through.

He tucks you closer against his side, letting you rest your head on his shoulder.

“Whatever you decide to do, you’ll crush it,” he murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to the crown of your head. “I believe that.”

“Yeah?” you ask, voice thick.

“Absolutely.” He gives you a little squeeze. “You want a new job? You’ll find one. You want to stay and prove those assholes wrong? You’ll do that too. Just say the word, and I’ll be right there to cheer you on. Or beat them up, if that’s easier.”

Despite the tears still threatening at the corners of your eyes, you let out a half-chuckle. “I’ve never really been much of a quitter,” you admit, the first spark of determination returning to your tone.

“Didn’t think so,” he says with a grin, admiration evident in his voice. “Strong girl like you? You’re gonna do just fine.”

You nestle closer into him, thankful beyond words that he’s here, that he understands in a way you desperately needed someone to.

Steve’s just relieved that you’re letting him be the one to help you shoulder the weight. Something else he realised this evening was that he hates seeing you hurt, but if being here—listening, comforting—helps even a little, then it’s worth every second.

You exhale a shaky breath and smooth down the front of your shirt, eyes still puffy from crying. You feel lighter, like a burden’s been lifted just from having Steve here. Even with a hint of embarrassment.

“Sorry,” you say, voice quiet. “For making you worry, I mean. I should’ve just told you what was going on.”

Steve’s gaze flicks over your face. “You didn’t—well, okay, maybe I was worried,” he admits, a tiny wry smile tugging at his lips. “But I’d prefer it if you just told me when you’re sad. I mean, I can’t fix everything, but I want to help—when you’ll let me.”

You nod, fingers picking at a loose thread on the couch cushion. “I still feel bad for lying earlier. Telling you I was sick.” You let out a soft, self-deprecating laugh. “You got me soup and everything.”

“Yeah, well,” he says, shifting with a touch of bashfulness. “What kind of boyfriend would I be if I didn’t at least try to look after you?”

A beat passes, and then your eyes snap to his.

“Boyfriend?”

Steve freezes, colour blooming across his cheeks.

Shit.

“Uh… yeah?” He rubs the back of his neck awkwardly. “I mean, that’s—what did you think we were doing? I figured we were… you know, dating. I pick you up, I pay for stuff, sometimes we—uh—we kiss—” He falters, stumbling over his words. “Not all the time, but—”

You press your lips together, fighting a smile as you watch him ramble. Something tender wells up inside you. It’s like he’s laid himself bare—admitting out loud how he sees you, how he sees this. And it’s so damn endearing you can’t help the small giggle that escapes.

“You’re cute when you’re embarrassed,” you tease, reaching to gently poke his cheek.

He groans, cheeks going even pinker. “You’re unbelievable,” he mutters, covering his face with one hand. “I can’t believe—”

You place your hand over his, coaxing him to look at you. “I like the idea of you being my boyfriend,” you say softly, each word weaving comfort through the space between you.

“Yeah?” His eyes widen, and for a second, he looks almost boyish with relief. “You do?”

A small smile curves your lips as you lean in. “Yeah.”

You slide a hand to his cheek, guiding him into a kiss—slow, sweet, and laced with the warmth of everything you’ve been lacking back all day. He exhales against your mouth, shoulders easing with the gentle press of your lips. His thumb strokes lightly over your jaw as he returns the kiss, and you taste a hint of peppermint from the candy he’d been snacking on in the car. When he finally pulls back, breath a little unsteady, there’s a stunned happiness in his eyes.

“So…” he murmurs, voice catching in his throat. “I’m your boyfriend.” He tried to make it sound like a joke but you could see the question behind his statement. He wanted full clarification here. He wanted to hear you say it out loud.

You can’t help the grin that spreads across your face. “Yes, Steve. You’re my boyfriend.”

“That’s—God.” He laces his fingers through yours, a giddy laugh bubbling from his chest. “That’s—yeah. Glad we cleared that up.”

You both end up in the kitchen soon after, unpacking the soup he brought. It’s nothing fancy—just store-bought chicken noodle—but it warms you from the inside out as you eat together, perched on stools by the counter. He slides you half the candy he picked up, and you pass the bag back and forth, bumping shoulders with quiet smiles. There’s something so normal about it—the day’s troubles left behind in another world.

Later, you curl up on the couch together, switching on the TV. Steve insists you get first pick after the day you had. You flick through the channels until you settle on some old sitcom that neither of you pay much attention to. You’re more focused on the weight of his arm around your shoulders, the steady rhythm of his breathing.

Eventually, the clock inches toward midnight. The hum of the television plays softly in the background as you shift to look at him.

“Hey, are you working tomorrow?”

He winces a little. “Yeah,” he says, regret threading through his voice. “’Fraid so. Saturdays are insane. I tried to switch shifts, but Keith was being a total pain. I’m sorry, sweetheart.”

“Don’t apologise,” you shake your head. “I was just wondering if… you wanted to stay here tonight.” Your cheeks warm slightly at the invitation. “I live closer, and I’ve got a spare toothbrush somewhere. Plus…” You clear your throat, dropping your gaze momentarily. “I’d really rather not be alone tonight.”

Steve’s eyes flicker with surprise and then a rush of tenderness. “You—you want me to stay? I mean, I don’t want to impose. Not like in a—like we don’t have to—I mean—”

You cut off his rambling by resting a hand over mouth.

“Steve.” Your smile is gentle. “Stay the night, please? I’m asking you to.”

He searches your face, seeing sincerity there, and his entire demeanour softens. You’re too damn sweet for your own good, he swears.

“Alright,” he breathes. “Yeah. I’ll stay.” Then he leans in, pressing a slow, grateful kiss to your temple. “Thank you.”

Eventually, the two of you shuffle into your bedroom, quietly laughing as you rummage around for that spare toothbrush you promised. You lend him an old T-shirt that’s slightly snug across his shoulders, which only makes you giggle more. By the time you both slip beneath the blankets, the mood has shifted from the sadness of the day to the tenderness of tonight.

He wraps an arm around your waist, and you snuggle into his chest, breathing in his soft scent. For a moment, neither of you says anything—it’s enough just to lie there, safe and comfortable, heartbeats syncing in the quiet.

“Night, sweetheart.” He murmurs and you sigh in agreement, already being lulled into sleep. It’s a happy sound—one that makes him pull you closer as you drift off.

You stir awake to the warmth of Steve’s arm still draped over your waist. Morning light filters through the curtains, illuminating the little dust particles swirling in the morning light. The alarm you set starts to go off and he lets out a quiet groan, burying his face in the curve of your shoulder as if he can hide from the responsibilities of the day. You can’t help but smile, tracing idle patterns on the back of his hand.

“I don’t wanna go,” he mumbles, voice muffled against your skin.

You push a sleepy chuckle past your lips. “You have to—Robin would miss you too much.”

“No she wouldn’t.” He sighs dramatically, rolling onto his back and turning off the blaring sound. “Probably count it as a blessing not to put up with me for a whole Saturday.” But there’s a small, silly grin on his face that betrays the fondness beneath all the complaining.

A short while later, you’re both in the kitchen, sipping hastily brewed coffee due to your shared reluctance to get up. You lean against the counter, watching as he rubs sleep from his eyes and nurses his mug like it’s the only thing keeping him upright. You don’t say anything about the state of his hair, enjoying the way it falls messily across his forehead.

“You sure you’re feeling better?” he asks, gaze flickering over you, still laced with concern even though you’ve assured him more times than you can count.

You nod, a softer smile pulling at your lips. “I am. Thanks to you,” you add, nudging his foot with yours, blushing with how sappy you’re both being.

He tries for a humble shrug, but the flush creeping up his neck is unmistakable.

“Anytime, angel.”

Before long, the clock reminds him that time is up. He slips into yesterday’s shirt—grimacing a bit at the wrinkles—and heads for the door. You follow, hands clasped around your mug. At the threshold, he turns to you, pressing a gentle goodbye kiss to your lips.

Then another.

And another.

“Steve, you’re gonna be late.” You let out an exasperated laugh, placing a firm hand on his chest.

He grins like a kid caught stealing candy. “What—trying to get rid of me already?”

“You know I’m not,” you sigh, rolling your eyes as you gently shove him. “I’m literally seeing you after you clock out!”

His voice lowers playfully as he backs out the door. “Damn right you are.”

He winks, then sets off, leaving you with a warm, tingly feeling long after he disappears from sight.

When Steve finally strolls into Family Video, he finds Robin already at the counter, re-shelving tapes. She glances up, raises an eyebrow, and greets him with a lazy wave.

“Hey. So… how’d it—” She stops mid-sentence, narrowing her eyes at him. “Wait a second.” She points accusingly at his shirt. “That is the same outfit from yesterday! You did not—”

“Whoa,” Steve lifts both hands defensively. “It’s not like that, okay?”

Robin sets down the tapes, folding her arms over her chest. “Then enlighten me. Because it sure looks like you had a fun night.”

“Ugh,” he groans, scrubbing a hand across his face. “It was—look, it’s not what you think. She was having a rough time, I went to check on her, and… well, I stayed over. Nothing crazy.”

Robin cocks her head, curiosity replacing her initial look. “So she’s okay?”

She may not know you as well as Steve did, but if you were important to him, you were important to her too.

“Yeah. She will be.” He nods, and a small, proud smile graces his lips. “My girl’s tough.”

Her eyes light up. “Your girl, huh?”

He bobs his head, trying to hide the giddy surge that washes over him. “Yeah. Officially.”

Robin squeals—actually squeals—and Steve flushes, glancing around to make sure there are no customers to witness it.

“We have to do a double date!” she says, practically bouncing on her heels. “We’ll get Vickie—”

“Rob,” Steve pleads, fighting to keep the corners of his mouth from curving up too high, “let’s not scare her off, okay? One step at a time.”

“Fine,” Robin huffs, but she’s beaming at him. “But soon. I’m serious.”

He rolls his eyes, yet there’s no denying the warmth in his expression. The truth is, he’s never felt so content. The memory of your smile still fresh in his mind, and the knowledge that, yes, you’re his girl. Officially.

“Yeah, we’ll figure something out,” Steve says quietly, stocking a few tapes behind the counter. His voice is softer than usual, carrying a note of contentment Robin hasn’t heard in him for a long, long time.

She shoots him a conspiratorial grin. “I’m happy for you.”

“Yeah,” he murmurs, thinking of how you looked in the morning light, how sweet it felt to hold you close and kiss you goodbye. He looks out the window toward your apartment, knowing you’re going to be there when he leaves in a few hours. “Me too.”

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #stranger things #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fluff #stranger things x reader #steve harrington angst #steve harrington fanfic #stranger things imagine #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you

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iamgonnagetyouback · 1 month ago

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amortenia, rain, and nurse theo ⋆˚࿔

synopsis ⭑.ᐟ theodore nott x hufflepuff!reader where you both go to pippin's potions and why does the amortenia smell so familiar? AND theodore nott x hufflepuff!reader where you get sick and he takes care of you

➜ ft. lorenzo berkshire

warnings: fluff overload, occasional theodore grumpiness, flirt mode: activated (lorenzo edition)

word count: 5,520 words

au part?: yes ➺ ☆

author's note: i know, i know, the much awaited (and requested) part 3 is finally here! hope you enjoy!

taglist: @lov3notts @rafeluvrr @celestialeviereads @sad-anxious-muffin @ashex333 @starconstellation2423 @a-little-funny @alygatorcow @urfavetheaterkid16 @ill-die-anywaygir

navigation┆theodore nott masterlist┆request here 𝜗𝜚

Theodore Nott was seated at the Slytherin table in the Great Hall, quietly picking at his breakfast while Blaise, Mattheo, and Draco exchanged snide remarks about who’d win in a duel—Draco’s money was on himself, naturally. Theodore tuned them out, the low hum of their voices a comfortable background noise.

And then, you appeared.

“Theodore,” you said, planting your hands on the table right in front of him. He blinked, startled, as you leaned in slightly, your voice as sweet as honey but your tone commanding. “5 PM sharp, Hogsmeade. Meet me by Pippin’s Potions. Don’t be late.”

Before anyone could respond, you slapped a folded piece of parchment onto the table in front of him. “Read this after I leave,” you instructed, your eyes darting briefly to the rest of the table. “Good morning, Blaise, Draco. Pansy, you look lovely as always. Mattheo, you—”

You snagged a piece of toast off Mattheo’s plate with a grin. “Thanks for this,” you added, kissing his forehead in one swift motion and giving his hair a motherly pat. “Don’t forget to eat something other than sugar today, okay?”

Mattheo froze mid-chew, looking both confused and mildly touched. “Uh, okay?”

With a radiant smile that seemed to light up the entire Hall, you straightened up. “Oh, and Theodore?”

He raised an eyebrow, still processing the rapid series of events.

“Bring Enzo,” you said sweetly, then added with a cheerful little shrug, “but tell him to not forget his brain in the dorm this time.”

Blaise let out a bark of laughter, and Draco smirked into his goblet.

You winked at them, spinning on your heel and sauntering out of the Hall with a satisfied bounce in your step.

There was a beat of silence at the table.

“Whipped,” Blaise said under his breath, breaking the stillness.

“I am not whipped,” Theodore replied flatly, though his ears tinged faintly pink.

“Right, because you didn’t just sit there like a lovesick puppy,” Mattheo teased, rubbing the spot where you’d kissed him.

"Mattheo? Go shower.”

“What? Why?” Mattheo frowned, sniffing his shirt. “I just did.”

Theodore rolled his eyes, ignoring his rising irritation. The kiss had been almost motherly, but still—it had been a kiss.

“Leave her alone,” Pansy scolded the boys, though her lips twitched with amusement. “At least she’s got some sense to keep you idiots in line.”

Theodore sighed, unfolding the parchment with a mix of curiosity and dread.

Rules & Regulations (because Theo will inevitably break them):

No speaking Italian in front of me unless you’re teaching me words that aren’t insults.

No calling me cara anymore. I know it means stupid, Theodore. Do better.

Don’t be late.

Remind Lorenzo to bring his brain along this time.

If you have something important to say, say it before we meet, because once we’re there, you won’t get many chances to talk. 😊

Theodore read the list, a slow smile creeping across his face. Blaise leaned over his shoulder, his brows furrowing as he skimmed the parchment.

“That’s... not a love letter,” Blaise noted, sounding almost disappointed.

“No,” Theodore said, his tone softer than usual as he folded the paper neatly. “But I think I love her anyway.”

“Didn’t she basically call you stupid?” Draco asked, smirking.

“Yeah,” Theodore replied, his lips quirking up. “And she’s not wrong.”

Theodore was leaning casually against the stone arch of the Hogsmeade entrance, hands stuffed in his pockets, watching you tap your foot impatiently. You stood a few steps ahead of him, arms crossed, your eyes fixed on the road as though sheer force of will could summon Lorenzo out of thin air.

“You know,” Theodore started, his voice breaking the silence, “I did tell him. Repeatedly. In fact, I told him yesterday after class. And this morning at breakfast. And in the common room before lunch. Honestly, I don’t know why he’s late. Maybe he got caught up in one of his ridiculous—”

You raised an eyebrow but didn’t look at him. “Mhm.”

“—because, really, it’s not that difficult to be on time,” he continued, not catching your tone. “We’ve been doing this for weeks now, and you’d think Enzo would’ve picked up on the concept of punctuality. But no, apparently it’s beyond him. He’s probably—”

“Theo, sweetheart, shut up.”

His words faltered, and he blinked at you. “What?”

You finally turned to face him, your exasperation tempered by a small, amused smile. “You’re rambling.”

He frowned, his mouth opening as though to protest, but instead, he muttered something in Italian under his breath.

“What was that?” you asked, narrowing your eyes suspiciously.

“Nothing,” he replied, looking anywhere but at you.

You huffed, poking his chest lightly with your finger. “You know, one of these days, I’m going to learn Italian and not tell you. And when I catch you saying whatever it is you’re always muttering, you’re done for.”

He smirked faintly. “Sure, sure. Can’t wait.”

You scowled, though the corners of your mouth twitched. “That’s exactly what you’d say if you didn’t believe me.”

Theodore shrugged, but the glint in his eyes gave him away.

Half an hour passed, and Lorenzo was still nowhere to be seen. Your foot-tapping evolved into pacing, and Theodore, to his credit, stood there in silence, seemingly resigned to his fate.

Finally, you threw your hands up in frustration. “That’s it. We’re leaving without him.”

“You sure?” Theodore asked, pushing off the wall.

“Yes, I’m sure,” you said, already marching down the path toward Hogsmeade. “He can catch up if he feels like it, but I’m not wasting another second standing here like a fool.”

Theodore fell into step beside you, his strides longer and more relaxed than your determined pace. “You’re taking this a bit personally, aren’t you?”

You shot him a look. “If Lorenzo shows up and you defend him, I’m taking back your talking privileges.”

He smirked but wisely said nothing.

The little bell above the door of Pippin’s Potions chimed as you pushed it open, stepping into the warmly lit shop. The air was rich with the scent of herbs, spices, and something faintly acidic. Shelves lined with neatly labeled vials and jars stretched up to the ceiling, and you practically beamed as you stepped inside.

Theodore followed at a leisurely pace, his hands tucked into his pockets, his gaze lazily drifting over the shelves. “You’ve been looking forward to this all week, haven’t you?”

“Obviously,” you said, already moving toward a shelf filled with shimmering, color-coded potions. “This place is like heaven for potion nerds like me. Look at this one!” You picked up a small vial of glowing blue liquid. “Restorative Draught—perfect for replenishing magical stamina. And this!” You grabbed another bottle, this one swirling with iridescent silver. “Mood Potion! Changes your mood based on whatever you need. Isn’t it amazing?”

Theodore raised an eyebrow. “I don’t think you need that. You’re already a walking Mood Potion.”

You shot him a glare. “And what’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means you’ve got enough energy for five people,” he replied smoothly, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“Flattery will get you nowhere, Nott,” you quipped, putting the potion back on the shelf.

“Wasn’t trying to flatter you,” he said, following you as you moved to another section. “Merely an observation.”

You rolled your eyes but didn’t bother arguing. Instead, you picked up a jar filled with tiny, glittering leaves. “Moondew. Isn’t it beautiful? It only blooms once every hundred years.”

“Fascinating,” Theodore said dryly, leaning against the shelf as you examined it.

“You could at least pretend to care,” you said, putting the jar back. “What if I discover the next great potion recipe and name it after you? ‘Nott’s Notorious Brew.’ Has a nice ring to it, don’t you think?”

He smirked, his eyes gleaming with amusement. “If it’s going to have my name on it, it had better be something impressive.”

“Of course,” you said, grabbing another vial and holding it up dramatically. “A potion so powerful, it’ll make anyone who drinks it fall madly in love with me.”

Theodore blinked, momentarily thrown off. “You don’t need a potion for that,” he muttered under his breath.

“What was that?” you asked, tilting your head.

“Nothing,” he said quickly, straightening up. “What’s next on your list?”

You grinned, reaching into your bag to pull out your meticulously crafted shopping list. “Everything,” you declared, waving it in the air.

Theodore groaned. “I should’ve known.”

“Don’t complain,” you said with a wink, moving to the next shelf. “You signed up for this when you agreed to work with me.”

He followed, shaking his head but unable to hide the small smile tugging at his lips. “Pretty sure I didn’t agree to anything.”

“Too late now,” you chirped, grabbing a bottle of Elixir to Induce Euphoria. “Now, help me find powdered griffin claw, would you?”

“Yes, boss,” Theodore said, the smirk firmly back in place as he wandered off.

You stopped in front of the glass case holding some of the shop’s most coveted potions. Felix Felicis gleamed like liquid gold, swirling enticingly in its tiny vial. Next to it sat a bottle of Amortentia, the infamous love potion, its surface shimmering like a kaleidoscope of mother-of-pearl.

“Felix Felicis,” you breathed, pointing at the tiny vial of shimmering gold liquid. “Liquid luck. Imagine how much easier this project would be if we had some of that.”

Theodore raised an eyebrow. “You mean imagine how much you would abuse it.”

“Excuse you,” you said, pretending to be offended. “I am a paragon of self-control.”

He snorted. “You spilled ink all over your notes yesterday because you got distracted by a butterfly outside the window.”

“It was a beautiful butterfly,” you shot back, before turning your attention to the next potion. “Amortentia,” you said, your voice dropping to a playful whisper. “The most powerful love potion in the world. Smells like what you’re most attracted to. Care to take a whiff, Theo?”

“Pass,” he said immediately, his tone dry.

“Oh, come on,” you teased, leaning closer to the display. “What are you so afraid of? Smelling your deepest desires? Or finding out it’s something embarrassing, like broom polish and... I don’t know, mint toothpaste?”

“Broom polish?” he repeated, his expression incredulous. “What do you think I am, a Quidditch fanatic?”

You grinned, but your attention shifted back to the potion. Its mother-of-pearl sheen swirled hypnotically, and you found yourself leaning in closer, unable to resist. As the subtle, alluring fragrance hit you, your banter faltered.

Then the scent hit you. It was intoxicating, warm, and utterly unexpected—a blend of fresh parchment, something woodsy and clean like cedar, and… spearmint?

You shook it off as you quickly straightened up and turned back to Theodore. “Your turn.”

“No,” he said firmly, his hands shoved deep into his pockets.

“Oh, come on,” you whined, lightly nudging his arm. “Don’t be such a spoil-sport.”

“I’m not,” he said, avoiding your gaze. “I just don’t see the point.”

“The point is curiosity, Theo,” you insisted, pouting. “What are you so afraid of? Finding out you’re actually in love with—”

He cut you off with a sharp glare, his ears turning slightly pink. “It’s nothing,” he said quickly, his voice lower than usual.

You frowned, confused by his sudden shift in demeanor. “Nothing? That’s kind of boring,” you said, your disappointment slipping out before you could stop it. You didn’t understand why it bothered you—why you felt let down that he wasn’t sharing whatever his “nothing” was.

Shaking off the strange pang, you plastered on a grin. “Fine, be mysterious. I’ll just pester Lorenzo about it later,” you said, turning away and heading toward another shelf. “Now, let’s go find something useful, like powdered billywig stings. And don’t you dare start complaining.”

Theodore trailed after you, his usual smirk subdued as he watched your back, the faintest trace of regret flickering in his expression. But when you turned to glare at him for dragging his feet, he quickly schooled his face into indifference, shoving his hands deeper into his pockets and muttering, “Yes, boss.”

As you wandered further into the shop, you found yourself drifting toward a large window. The warm sunlight spilled through, casting golden patches across the wooden floor. You peered outside absently, but your eyes widened when they landed on a familiar figure.

“Is that…” You squinted, leaning closer to the glass. “Is that Lorenzo?”

Theodore, who had been silently trailing after you, looked up from a shelf of powdered ingredients. “What are you—”

Without a second thought, you grabbed his hand, dragging him toward the window.

“I’m not going to—” Theodore started, but you cut him off by shoving him right in front of the glass.

“Look!” you hissed, pointing through the window. “That’s definitely Lorenzo. And who’s that with him? A girl?”

Theodore frowned, staring outside where Lorenzo stood, laughing easily with a girl who seemed thoroughly charmed by whatever nonsense he was undoubtedly spouting.

“I mean, what is he even doing?” you rambled, your voice climbing. “He was supposed to meet us here ages ago, and instead he’s out there gallivanting around like he doesn’t have a care in the world! I told him 5 p.m. sharp, Theo. Sharp! Does he not know what sharp means? He probably doesn’t—honestly, I wouldn’t be surprised. And who is she? Some girl he’s charmed into—”

“Would you excuse me?” Theodore interrupted smoothly, his tone calm but edged with irritation.

You blinked, startled by his sudden interjection. “What?”

Before you could get another word out, Theodore was already heading for the shop’s exit, his strides purposeful.

“Wait, where are you going?” you called after him, your words trailing uselessly as he disappeared through the door.

You crossed your arms, muttering under your breath.

“Lorenzo Berkshire, you better have the most spectacular excuse.”

Unable to resist your curiosity (or temper), you marched out of Pippin’s Potions and straight toward the scene outside. As you approached, the girl Lorenzo was talking to looked up, her expression shifting from startled to delighted when she saw you.

“Oh, hi!” you greeted her warmly, your sunny disposition kicking in despite your bubbling frustration. “I love your shoes! Where did you get them? They’re adorable.”

The girl smiled shyly, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “Oh, um, thank you! I got them in a little shop in Diagon Alley.”

“Of course you did,” you said, beaming. “Diagon Alley has the best hidden gems. Anyway, sorry to interrupt! I just need to have a quick word with my very late friend over here.”

You turned sharply toward Lorenzo, hands on your hips, clearly gearing up for an earful. “Lorenzo Berkshire, do you have any idea how long Theo and I have been waiting—”

Before you could launch into your tirade, Theodore stepped in front of you, cutting you off.

“Just one moment,” he said, his voice firm but polite.

You blinked, caught off guard as he turned to Lorenzo, switching effortlessly to Italian.

“Perché sei qui fuori con lei?” Theodore demanded, his tone sharp but quiet enough to avoid drawing the girl’s attention. (Why are you out here with her?)

Lorenzo smirked, shrugging casually. “Volevo dare a te e alla signora un po' di tempo da soli.” (I wanted to give you and the missus some alone time.)

Theodore’s jaw clenched, his irritation evident. “Non è il momento per le tue sciocchezze. Siamo qui per un progetto, Enzo.” (This is not the time for your nonsense. We’re here for a project, Enzo.)

Meanwhile, completely oblivious to their conversation, you turned back to the girl, your frustration momentarily forgotten. “So, are you two friends?” you asked her brightly.

“Oh, um, not exactly,” she replied, glancing nervously at the boys. “He just… started talking to me while I was waiting for my friends.”

You nodded, smiling sympathetically. “That sounds like Lorenzo. He could charm the whiskers off a Kneazle.”

The girl giggled, relaxing under your friendly chatter. “Is he always like this?”

“Always,” you said with a mock sigh. “It’s honestly exhausting.”

Meanwhile, Theodore pinched the bridge of his nose as Lorenzo leaned casually against the fence, looking far too amused by the situation.

“Basta con le scuse. Sei in ritardo e ora dobbiamo rimetterci al lavoro.” Theodore snapped, his patience wearing thin. (Enough with the excuses. You’re late, and now we have to get back to work.)

“Calmati, amico,” Lorenzo replied with a grin, glancing between you and Theodore. “Sei geloso perché stavo parlando con qualcun altro?” (Relax, mate. Are you jealous because I was talking to someone else?)

Theodore’s glare darkened. “Non farmi pentire di essere tuo amico.” (Don’t make me regret being your friend.)

You noticed their hushed exchange and turned back toward them, suspicious. “Are you two talking about me in Italian again? Because if you are, I’ll—”

Lorenzo straightened, raising his hands in mock surrender. “We’d never, Sunshine! I was just… apologizing to Theo for being late.”

Theodore muttered something under his breath, and you narrowed your eyes.

“Uh-huh,” you said skeptically. “I’ll believe that when penguins fly.”

As you waved goodbye to the girl, you turned sharply on your heel and pointed a finger at Lorenzo.

“Don’t think I’m done with you, Berkshire,” you scolded, hands on your hips. “You’re late, you didn’t bring any excuse cake—because that’s a thing now—and you’re out here charming innocent girls when we have a project to save my grade!”

Lorenzo gave you a crooked grin, raising his hands in mock surrender. “Sunshine, I’m pretty sure your grade doesn’t need saving. But I get it. Scold away.”

"-I had to stand in one place for ages like some kind of forgotten statue!”

He grinned. “Well, statues are usually silent, Sunshine. Did you manage that part, or…?”

“Carry this,” you said with annoyance, shoving the bag of potions supplies into his arms. “You’re on bag-carrying duty now. Congratulations.”

With a dramatic huff, you stormed off, the hem of your sundress fluttering in the breeze. Theodore and Lorenzo exchanged a look before following behind you like sheepish children.

But then, just as quickly as you started, you skidded to an abrupt halt. Theodore and Lorenzo, unprepared for your sudden stop, bumped straight into you.

Theodore muttering a soft “Merlin, Amore—” as he stumbled back.

You turned, a frown creasing your brow. “It’s going to rain.”

“What?” Enzo said, looking up at the perfectly sunny sky.

“A raindrop just fell on my cheek!” you declared, pointing dramatically. “Look!”

Theodore’s eyes followed your hand, his gaze lingering not on the sky but on your cheek. The delicate curve of your face was dampened slightly by what you insisted was a raindrop. Your skin glowed in the golden light, and the soft pink hue of your sundress made you look ethereal, like something pulled from the pages of an old love poem.

“Shouldn’t we, I don’t know, get inside then?” Lorenzo suggested, always the voice of practicality.

You whirled on him, horrified. “You might as well curse my entire existence, Enzo!”

“What did I—” Lorenzo began, but you interrupted with a finger pointed to the now-grey sky.

“If it’s going to rain, the last thing we do is run. Rain isn’t an enemy! It’s a gift!”

“A gift that gives you pneumonia,” Lorenzo muttered, earning a glare.

You ignored him completely, twirling in place as the rain soaked your sundress. “Let’s dance!”

Lorenzo snorted. “No, thanks!”

“Buzzkill,” you shot back, waving him off. “Theo, come on!” You grabbed his hand, tugging him into the rain.

“Amore mio, I hate the rain,” he said, though his feet were already moving toward you.

“Not anymore!” you declared, spinning him into the makeshift dance floor of muddy grass and raindrops.

“Theo,” Lorenzo called after him, “you can say no, you know!”

But Theodore didn’t say no. He followed you, his hand warm in yours.

He watched you twirl, your sundress flowing as if it had been made for this very moment. Water clung to your hair and lashes, making you seem otherworldly, like some ethereal creature conjured by the storm itself.

His heart ached in the most confusing, wonderful way as he caught himself staring. You were laughing now, your joy infectious, and he found himself helplessly drawn to you.

You grabbed his hand again, pulling him into a spin with you. “See? Now you don’t hate the rain!”

Theo’s lips quirked up, his voice soft and sincere. “I don’t think I ever really did.”

Lorenzo groaned from the sidelines, drenched but stubbornly avoiding joining. “If you two start reciting poetry or kissing in the rain, I’m leaving.”

You rolled your eyes, grinning. “Oh, relax, Enzo. Live a little!”

You twirled again, oblivious to the way Theo’s eyes followed your every move, his gaze filled with something unspoken and warm, as if you were more than sunshine—you were the entire universe lighting up his world. If rain-soaked afternoons meant watching you glow like this, maybe he didn’t hate the rain after all.

When you twirled again, your dress brushing against him, Theodore caught your hand mid-spin. “Careful, cara,” he said softly, his voice steady despite the chaos around him.

You grinned up at him, cheeks pink from the cold and the exertion. “Don’t call me stupid!”

He chuckled under his breath, his hand still holding yours.

Lorenzo groaned from the sidelines. “I can feel the cavities forming just watching you two!”

Sneeze. Cough. Sneeze.

This was the pattern going on in your dimly lit Hufflepuff dorm, where you were bundled up under what seemed like every blanket in Hogwarts. Theodore sat beside you, his arms crossed and a faint frown creasing his face.

Lorenzo paced in front of you like a disappointed parent, his hands gesticulating wildly as he launched into yet another scolding. “Sunshine, I told you! I told you this would happen! Dancing in the rain like you’re in some romantic tragedy. And now look—sniffling, sneezing, and coughing up a lung.”

You peeked out from under the blankets, your voice raspy but defiant. “Lorenzo, darling, I had fun. Isn’t that what life is about? Living?” You coughed dramatically for effect, clutching your chest like a martyr. “Though, if this is my end, please promise to put ‘Lived life to the fullest’ on my tombstone.”

Theodore rolled his eyes but leaned forward to adjust the blankets around your shoulders. “You’re not dying, cara. Just stop talking for a second and drink this.” He held out a steaming cup of tea.

You took it, sniffing the air suspiciously. “This doesn’t smell like my usual tea.”

“It’s a potion,” Theodore explained patiently. “It’ll help with your cold.”

You wrinkled your nose. “You poisoned it, didn’t you?”

Lorenzo groaned, throwing his hands up. “Merlin’s beard, Sunshine, you’re impossible! Theodore’s been sitting here for hours taking care of you, and you’re accusing him of murder?”

You sniffled dramatically, giving Lorenzo a pitiful look. “I’m very fragile right now, Lorenzo. Please lower your voice.”

Lorenzo pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’m going to lose my mind.”

“Already lost it, Enzo,” you muttered, sipping the potion. You gagged. “This is definitely poison.”

Theodore smirked faintly, settling back in his chair. “If it were poison, you wouldn’t be talking right now, would you?”

You glared at him but were too tired to come up with a retort. Instead, you flopped back against the pillows with an exaggerated sigh.

“I’ll say this again,” Lorenzo started, resuming his pacing. “You need to stop acting like a reckless five-year-old. Who in their right mind dances in the rain without a coat?”

“Me,” you replied sweetly, batting your eyelashes at him. “Aren’t I charming?”

“Annoying,” Lorenzo corrected.

You gave a mock gasp, clutching your chest. “How could you? After all the joy I bring into your life?”

Theodore shook his head, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he watched you and Lorenzo bicker.

Finally, you turned to Theodore with a mock whine. “Theo, make Lorenzo go away. He’s upsetting my delicate constitution.”

Theodore looked at Lorenzo, deadpan. “You heard her. Out.”

“Seriously?” Lorenzo protested, pointing at you. “She’s the one who danced in the rain like a lunatic!”

“Out, Lorenzo,” Theodore repeated, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Lorenzo sighed dramatically, grabbing his coat. “Fine, but don’t come crying to me when she starts pestering you with her nonsense.” He turned to you on his way out, smirking. “Get well soon, Sunshine. Hogwarts wouldn’t be the same without your dramatics.”

You waved weakly, a smirk on your lips. “Don’t miss me too much, Enzo.”

When the door shut behind him, the room fell quiet. Theodore leaned back in his chair, glancing at you.

“Happy now?”

You grinned up at him. “Ecstatic. Now, nurse Theo, can you pass me another blanket? I think I’m chilling.”

Theodore sighed but grabbed another blanket, draping it over you. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

“And yet, here you are,” you teased, your voice softer now.

Theodore didn’t respond, but the faintest blush crept onto his cheeks as he sat back down, resigned to your antics but secretly charmed by every bit of them.

You curled up under your fortress of blankets, peeking out at Theodore with a dramatic pout. “Theo, can you pass me the biscuits? The ones on the table?”

He didn’t look up from the book he was reading, sitting stiffly in the armchair beside you. “You’ve had three already. You’re supposed to be sick, not snacking like you’re at a feast.”

“But, Theo,” you whined, drawing out his name in that singsong tone you knew annoyed him. “Biscuits are medicinal! Haven’t you heard of biscuit therapy?”

Theodore sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, but he got up anyway, retrieving the biscuits from the table. “You’re a menace,” he muttered, handing the tin to you.

You beamed up at him, cheeks rosy from both the fever and your grin. “Thanks, nurse Theo! You’re my hero.”

“Don’t call me that,” he grumbled, sitting back down and resuming his reading.

You nibbled on a biscuit, watching him from beneath the blanket. “You’re so grumpy, you know that? It’s almost charming. Almost.”

“I’m grumpy because I’m stuck here with you while you demand biscuits and whine about your ‘delicate constitution,’” he replied, turning a page but glancing at you from the corner of his eye.

You placed a hand on your chest, feigning offense. “How dare you? I’m a delight. A ray of sunshine in your dreary, brooding life.”

“Sunshine? More like a hurricane,” he muttered, though there was the faintest hint of a smirk tugging at his lips.

You leaned forward, resting your chin on the edge of the blanket. “Admit it, Theo. You like my company. You wouldn’t still be here if you didn’t.”

He gave you a flat look but didn’t argue, which you took as a victory.

“I knew it!” you exclaimed, a teasing grin spreading across your face. “Deep down, you love my chaotic energy. It balances out your whole ‘silent and moody’ vibe.”

“Keep telling yourself that,” he said dryly, but you caught the way his gaze softened when he looked at you.

You stretched out your hand toward him, waving your fingers. “Hold my hand.”

“What?” He stared at you like you’d just asked him to wear a tutu.

“You’re supposed to be taking care of me,” you said, your voice thick with mock solemnity. “Emotional support is part of that. Now, hold my hand, Theodore.”

He hesitated for a moment but eventually sighed, setting his book down and reaching over to take your hand. His larger hand engulfed yours, and you couldn’t help but smile at how warm it was.

“See?” you said softly, squeezing his hand. “Doesn’t this feel nice? It’s like a bonding exercise. You’re lucky to have me as your emotional support sunshine.”

“I’m starting to regret my life choices,” he muttered, but his grip on your hand stayed firm.

You yawned, snuggling deeper into the blankets. “I think I’m gonna nap now. Keep holding my hand, okay? It’s good for my recovery.”

He didn’t respond, but when you peeked up at him through heavy eyelids, you caught him staring at you with an expression so gentle it made your heart flutter.

“You’re impossible,” he whispered, his thumb brushing over your knuckles.

“And yet,” you murmured, eyes closing as you drifted off, “you’re still here.”

Theodore stayed right where he was, holding your hand long after you’d fallen asleep, wondering how someone so infuriating could feel so utterly irreplaceable.

You blinked awake, the soft light of late afternoon streaming through the curtains. Your eyes adjusted, and you realized your hand was still cradled in Theodore’s much larger one, his head tilted back against the chair, soft breaths escaping his parted lips.

You stared at him, taking in the sharp line of his jaw, the long lashes that rested against his pale cheeks, and the faint crease between his brows even in sleep. He looked... peaceful. Almost unfairly so.

Why does he have to look like he’s straight out of a portrait even when he’s unconscious? you thought, your own cheeks heating up.

A loud cough interrupted your internal monologue, and you whipped your head around to find Sarah and your three other roommates standing by the door, wide-eyed and grinning like Cheshire cats.

“Care to explain what this is?” Sarah asked, gesturing between you and Theodore, her voice dripping with teasing amusement.

Your face flushed as you yanked your hand away from Theodore’s, causing him to stir slightly but not wake. “This? Oh, this is nothing! Absolutely nothing! He was just... uh... checking my pulse! For medical reasons!”

One of your roommates snorted. “Sure, that’s why he’s been sitting here for hours holding your hand like you’re his dying love in a tragic romance.”

“Don’t be ridiculous!” you huffed, crossing your arms defensively. “Theo? In love with me? Please. He calls me cara!”

Sarah raised an eyebrow. “...And?”

“And that means stupid!” you exclaimed, throwing your hands in the air. “He’s always muttering things under his breath in Italian, probably cursing my very existence! And don’t even get me started on how grumpy he is—he’s always sighing, rolling his eyes, and acting like he’d rather be anywhere else!”

Sarah tilted her head, a strange expression on her face. “Wait, wait, back up. Cara?”

“Yes, cara!” you said, exasperated. “You speak Italian, don’t you? You know it means stupid!”

Before Sarah could reply, Theodore stirred, groggily opening his eyes and blinking at the scene before him. His gaze shifted between you and your roommates, his brows furrowing. “What’s going on?”

The room fell silent for a beat, everyone suddenly hyper-aware of his presence.

“Oh, nothing!” Sarah chirped, her voice unnaturally high-pitched. “We were just... uh... admiring your dedication as a nurse!”

Theodore gave her a blank look before turning his attention to you. “How are you feeling?”

“Like death warmed over,” you muttered, tugging the blanket up to your chin.

Before Theodore could respond, the door burst open, and Lorenzo strolled in, balancing a tray laden with soup, tea, and an assortment of snacks. “Sunshine! How’s my favorite patient?”

You perked up. “You brought food!”

“Of course I did. I’m practically a saint,” Lorenzo said, setting the tray down on the table. His attention shifted to your roommates, and his lips curved into a charming smirk. “Well, hello, ladies. Are you all here to bask in Sunshine’s glow? Or is it my devastating good looks keeping you around?”

You grabbed a pillow and launched it at him, hitting him square in the chest. “Cut it out, Enzo. They’re immune to your nonsense.”

Lorenzo caught the pillow and grinned. “I don’t know, Sunshine. I think I saw a blush or two.”

“More like secondhand embarrassment,” you retorted, rolling your eyes.

As Lorenzo began chatting up your roommates, Theodore leaned closer to you, his voice low. “You’re going to owe me for this,” he murmured, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“For what?” you whispered back.

“For not leaving you alone with Enzo's company,” he replied, his tone teasing but his eyes warm.

You huffed, but your lips twitched into a reluctant smile. “Fine. Add it to my tab.”

Meanwhile, Lorenzo, mid-flirt with Sarah, caught sight of your grin and called out, “Don’t smile too hard, Sunshine! You’ll melt poor Theo’s cold heart.”

Theodore shot him a look. “Out.”

Lorenzo sighed dramatically, grabbing a biscuit from the tray. “Fine, fine. But only because Sunshine looks like she’s about to murder me.” He winked at you as he sauntered out.

Your roommates followed shortly after, leaving you and Theodore in a much quieter room. You looked at him sheepishly. “Thanks for... you know. Putting up with all of that.”

He shrugged, his gaze lingering on you a moment longer than necessary. “I don’t mind.”

And for once, his voice wasn’t teasing—it was soft, almost affectionate. You felt your cheeks heat up again as you buried yourself deeper in the blankets, pretending not to notice.

#theodore nott x reader #theodore nott fluff #theodore nott #theo nott x reader #slytherin boys #theo nott #theodore nott x you #theo nott x you #theodore nott x hufflepuff!reader #theodore nott imagine #theo nott fluff #theo nott imagine #theodore nott x hufflepuff!reader ⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆#lorenzo berkshire #enzo berkshire #ivy writes ⋆.˚#dividers by adornedwithlight

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meelusinee · 3 months ago

Text

AN OPERA HOUSE | T.N X READER

word count \ 2.6k | no triggers | slash / theodore nott x reader

in which you’re Theo's girlfriend and went to visit him while he went on band tour. author's note at the end!

AN OPERA HOUSE | T.N x SINGER!READER

God, he hated interviews.

The lights that were blaring in Theodore’s face, along with the sound of people walking around both in front and behind the set, were really starting to piss him off. Theo didn’t know how Enzo and Mattheo did it, both of them smiling bright as if they were having a nice fuck or smoking a rather heavy cigarette.

Theodore really could use a cigarette right now. Either that, or you.

Thoughts of nicotine and you had been running rampant in his mind ever since he had to leave you for his national tour, the tour that celebrated the release of the band’s newest album Cigarettes After Sex. A debut of sorts, Theodore wasn’t really sure what to call it. If he were to name it anything, he’d want to name it his love letter to you. But Mattheo had said he couldn’t do that, so he stuck with the band name.

“Today is a rather special day for you, isn’t it?”

Theodore’s mind zoned back in as Blaise gently nudged his leg, his posture straightening up as the interviewer finally started asking questions. Perhaps they needed time to make the lights even brighter, Theo thought, his hand moving to cover the frown growing on his face.

“Very special indeed,” Mattheo said, his signature smirk that got a lot of people involved with the band plastered on his face. “We just released an album, did you hear?”

“Yes, I did!” the interviewer said, smiling brightly as she adjusted the notes in her hand. “I was hoping we could ask you some questions about it, the musical process and making it mostly.”

Theo hummed non-committedly as the rest of them nodded their heads. Questions about music production didn’t sound too bad compared to a media interrogation.

“Do you mind if we did an introduction?” the lady asked, her fingers patting the cards.

“Course not love,” Blaise said, waving his hand casually as he sat up straighter. Theodore rolled his eyes, looking down at the ground. Blaise was always the biggest player out of the four of them. And that said a lot, seeing as though Mattheo Riddle was in the band as well.

Theodore watched as the cameras focused in on each of them, the interviewer putting her cards down momentarily to introduce them to the show. “Today is a very special day for all of us, I can imagine.” she said, smiling as she made some sort of dramatic hand gesture towards them. “Today, I’m here with the members of Cigarettes after Sex. We’re going to ask questions about their newest album.”

“I’m so excited.” Lorenzo squeaked, straightening up as he and Mattheo made funny faces to the camera.

“I wanted to start with the first question I had, which was how working on the album went.” she started almost instantly, sitting up a bit straighter. Theo rather appreciated that about her. “I mean, there’s four people in your band, and a lot of timing and other issues that you’d have to work on together. Does that stuff come easier to you than to others, do you think?”

“I think we work pretty well together, right?” Lorenzo asked, leaning forward to look at the other three before smirking in Theo’s direction. “Other than Mr. Grumpy over there, he gets pissy a lot.”

“Oh definitely.” Mattheo said, smirking as he ruffled Theo’s hair. “But it’s okay, because he writes us songs and mothers us whenever we drink. We love him very dearly.”

“It’s not my fault you decide to get concerningly drunk almost every time we hit a bar.” Theo grumbled, sitting up a bit straighter as he prepared to answer the question seriously. “We work as a team a lot of the time, especially when it comes to music. The only non-negotiable is the lyrics, which I write by myself. Other than that though, it’s free reign.”

“So things like instruments and rhythm are all decided by everyone in the band collectively?” the interviewer asked.

“Pretty much,” Blaise explained. “Usually Mattheo and Enzo make a starting beat for songs, and Theo and I usually build guitar chords off of that. Theo here has most of the control with singing though, rhythm and stuff.”

“That’s really cool.” the interviewer nodded. “I wish my family had that amount of coordination during the holidays.”

The four of them chuckled at varying degrees, with Mattheo winking at the interviewer after. “Maybe if we came over we could give you some pointers.”

“That sounds really lovely, actually.” she said, the comment obviously getting to her. Her cheeks became visibly more flushed, fingers tapping faster against her notes. “I wanted to ask you guys a little bit about the lyrics though, if you don’t mind.”

And here we go.

“That’s all Theo’s field.” Lorenzo said, all three of their fingers dramatically pointing at the top of Theo’s head. He really felt like walking out for a smoke, and maybe burning them all with the ashes out of spite for their existence. But he wasn’t going to let them know that.

“Now, I’m sure you can guess where this is headed,” she chuckled softly, flipping one of her flashcards over. “I was wondering what the inspiration for your songs was. Do you have a muse or anything of the sort?”

Theodore sighed, feeling the moment almost pause in time as he tried to think of an answer. He very much did have a muse, you were waiting at home in his bed. Even still, he wasn’t sure if he wanted that public. Especially since the both of you were rather quiet creatures.

He supposed it couldn’t hurt too much though.

“I do,” he whispered, clearing his throat after he spoke. He didn't realize how choked he would sound speaking. “Yeah, she’s really pretty.”

“Theo’s got a girlfriend!” Mattheo teased, poking Theo’s cheek teasingly. “He’s got a girlfriend who he loves very much. That woman has stolen his heart from me!”

“For shame of her, the audacity even.” Blaise chuckled amusedly, both Mattheo and Enzo playing a heartbroken bit. Theo smirked softly as Mattheo dramatically rested his head on Lorenzo’s shoulder, fake sobs escaping his mouth as they mourned over the loss of a non-existent relationship.

“You’ll be fine.” Theo said, gently patting Mattheo’s back.

“I’ll never recover from this.” he sniffled, sitting up a bit straighter. “Mark my words.”

It was a midsummer night, the sweltering heat doing nothing to deter the line of fangirls waiting at the entrance gates. The muggy and dense air seemed to surround everyone with a humid blanket, every bit of contact made as they tried to get through the doors like a match on gasoline. The concerts you went to weren’t usually this crowded and suffocating.

Then again, you usually never went to such well known-bands.

Luckily for you, you had been able to sneak a VIP seat ticket for the higher tip-tops of the opera house, a fitting venue for the band that was playing tonight. Cigarettes After Sex was flashing on the monitor they had set up near the back of the stage, the camera zoomed in to focus on the currently empty microphone stand.

Voices filled the area as everyone began to take their seats, some people pushing and shoving as they made their way around with water and sneaked in alcohol. Some of them had on merch for the band, some of them didn’t. Most of them wore darker clothes though, lots of black with leather jackets and heavy boots.

Your eyes zoned in on the screen as the lights began to dim, the voices all hushing as four men walked out onto the stage. Lorenzo Berkshire was the drummer, one of the most well-known band drummers that you could name off the top of your head. Mattheo Riddle was already stationed by the keyboards, his unruly curls already a little damp from the humidity inside the room. Blaise Zabini walked out with his bass guitar in hand, a role you knew he took on just so he could look hot while strumming the strings. Then came out Theodore Nott.

Your boyfriend.

You could tell that the heat was affecting him the least out of all of the band members, his waterline covered in the tiniest bit of eyeliner. You smiled softly as you recalled the memory of putting eyeliner on him when you two first started dating, the giggling fit the both of you had broken out into as the other three begged you to do their eyeliner as well.

He looked beautiful in the lighting too, his outfit framing his figure in an almost holy light. You were almost tempted to start writing a song about it right then and there. But now wasn’t your time, now was the time of the band.

You supposed the band thought the same thing as well, Blaise’s fingers beginning the strum the opening of their most popular song. Theo made his way up to the microphone stand, smiling softly at the crowd as he began to sing. His voice was just as angelic as his face, echoing through the opera house like the ghost of a long forgotten lover. He had completely captivated the room, the silence barely just quieter than the sound of his voice.

“Your lips, my lips,” you smiled softly as he sang the lyrics, leaning your head on your hand. “Apocalypse.”

You remember the time when he wrote that song. Your tongue was barely darted out as you tried to focus on not messing up the edges of a painting you had been working on, the brush trembling with your hands focused. It was a galaxy, the blues and purples blending together in a jaw-dropping beauty of a display. Mattheo had come into the room as you finished, a low whistle escaping his mouth as he glanced over at it.

“Looks like an apocalypse.”

Apparently, those words had rung through Theo’s mind for the week after that. He eventually sat you down on the bed, pulling out his guitar as he began to sing the lyrics to you. They needed a bit of polishing with the rhythm, his fingers plucking the wrong strings at times as he sang. But it was one of the most beautiful pieces you had heard regardless, tears welling in your eyes as you moved to hug him. That hug also ran through Theo’s mind for yet another week, in which he had apparently produced an entire studio album based on you.

You smiled softly as the end of the song came about, the final string echoing through the silent theatre. Theo had gone to grab a bottle of water by the speaker, his eyes locking onto yours.

You winked playfully, smiling at the blush that covered his features. You also just remembered that he had not expected you at the tour.

“You need to come get your lover boy,” were the words that rang through your phone speaker as you tried to press it against your ear.

“What?” you asked again, pen in your hand as you spoke.

“I said,” Mattheo’s voice rang through the speaker. “You need to come get your lover boy. He is really depressed right now, like, really. He’s missing you terribly and is currently refusing to work because of it.”

You heard him and Blaise beginning to argue in the background, the both of them knowing that Theo would eventually get up. But Mattheo seemed to think that you being there would solve every single one of his problems.

“I don’t know if I can go, Mattheo,” you mumbled, placing your notebook down. “I doubt I could get a spontaneous ticket.”

“Don’t worry about that,” he said. “I already sent a driver to pick you up, he’ll be there in about 10 minutes. I’m just calling to let you know.”

“You what?” you said, looking at the phone incredulously. “Mattheo, I don’t have any time to pack! What would I wear?”

“You say that as if Theo won’t buy you a whole wardrobe based on you liking a single piece of jewelry!” Mattheo said back, groaning as Blaise called for him. “I gotta go, make sure you get in that car and come over. He’s really, really missing you.”

“Mattheo, I swear to Merlin.” you began, but didn’t have any time to finish as you heard the beeping at the end of the line.

“Is that amore mio?” Theo asked Blaise incredulously, looking over at the other three before catching Mattheo’s smirk. “Oh, you bastard.”

“You were missing her!” he said, running away from the keyboard so Theo could throw water at him. “It's not my fault you got depressed!”

“She is meant to be resting, testa di cazzo!” Theo said, sighing as he put the bottle down. No doubt that would be clipped in magazine headers across the country. Theo looked over at you, a soft smile coming on his face when you came into vision. You still had that smile on your face, if not brighter now that you were giggling. He smiled back, picking up his microphone again.

“For our next song,” he spoke into the microphone, placing it back on the stand. “I think it’d be rather nice to sing something about the building we’re in as well. Something about the opera house.” he said, smirking softly as the crowd of fans began cheering. The lights dimmed again as the music began playing, his eyes closing as he let it run through his soul.

“Built an opera house for you in the deepest jungle,” he began, the music coursing through his veins. The words flowed out of him like a waterfall, his voice sweet as candy as he began walking back and forth at the front of the stage. Though every time the chorus hit he found himself in the middle, eyes focused on yours as he sang the lyrics.

“I was meant to love you, and always keep you in my life. I was meant to love you, I knew I loved you at first sight.”

The lights cut off completely as the equipment turned off, a smile growing on Theo’s face as the end of the concert came.

“Theo!” you squeaked as you saw him, waddling up to him like a happy penguin as you embraced him in a hug. You hadn’t seen him in over two weeks, the longest either of you had ever spent apart. “I never want to abandon you ever again.”

“If anyone was doing the abandoning, it was me.” he chuckled, his arms wrapping around you as he kissed your forehead lovingly. “I missed you so much principessa,”

“I missed you too,” you mumbled, burying your face in his chest. “Teddy.”

“Are you calling me a teddy bear?” he chuckled softly, pulling away from the hug to cup your face lovingly. His eyes were filled with devotion you only thought possible in dreams and fairytales, that was until you eventually met him at least.

“Yes I am.” you smiled softly.

“You are ridiculous.” he chuckled softly, pressing his lips against yours as he caressed your cheeks lovingly. “Merlin, I love you.”

“I love you too.” she whispered lovingly.

The two of you stood comfortably in the silence, wrapped in a hug neither wanted to leave. That was until Mattheo popped in.

“Told you that you missed her!”

His face had rather quickly met two empty water bottles.

AUTHOR'S NOTE

thank you so much for reading! i got kind of lazy during the end of this, i'm not going to lie to you (it's three am), but! if you want more of these two lovely beauties i might maybe make a part two! (i originally drafted this with reader as a singer in mind, so if you'd like to be singing some adrianne lenker songs to theo just let me know)

please like and comment and all that jazz, i practically live off of validation at this point.

#fanfiction #harry potter fanfiction #theodore nott #theodore nott x reader #theo nott x reader #theodore nott x you #mattheo riddle #lorenzo berkshire #blaise zabini #band au #cigarettes after sex #fluff #maybe part two

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in-my-feels-probably · 1 year ago

Note

hi!

I saw you were in desperate need of requests for our lovely Slytherin boys, so I figured I'd help haha.

Would you be inspired by "how the Slytherin boys would spend a rainy Sunday morning with you?" if not it's alright :)

love <3

How the Slytherin Boys Would Spend a Rainy Morning with You

Request: Would you be inspired by "how the Slytherin boys would spend a rainy Sunday morning with you?" if not it's alright :)

Hi! This is my first time doing one of these, so hopefully I do alright. Besides Regulus, I’ve never written for these characters, so please bear with me while I try and get the hang of it. Also, I’ve never read the fics Enzo and Mattheo are from, so this is just a little bit of research and a vibe I'm going with. If you think anything is out of character, please tell me, I’m happy getting any feedback to use in later work. Also, I’m ignoring that the boys' dorms are in the dungeons, since I wanted to put a window for some of them. Anyways, thank you so much for the request! I hope you like it :)

(Warnings: mentions of insomnia, insecurity, smoking, let me know if i missed anything)

—

Theodore Nott:

i think he’s definitely an insomniac. any amount of noise is going to wake him up, and then he’ll just be in his head till he finally forces himself out of bed.

i do think the sound of rain would make him tired too, but it would be so distracting that he couldn’t sleep through it. he’d be so frustrated, and maybe a little grumpy.

before you, he’d use the time to smoke outside under a covering undisturbed. but with you, he just wouldn’t be able to bring himself to get out of bed. he wants to go smoke, but he’s not about to wake you up. you’d ask him if he wants to go outside once you wake up, but he’d just shake his head.

you’re a much needed distraction, and he just wants to be close to you. i think he’s a bit touch starved, and he’d want you to hold him while he rests a little while longer.

nap time if he can fall asleep for sure. you’d be able to see how tired he was, and just gently try to coax him to rest for a little while longer till the rain passed.

Theo had been up for quite a while when you finally stirred. It was still quite early, and you had not intended on getting up until you felt the empty spot in the bed next to you. You found him sitting at the foot of the bed, a far off look in his eye. You furrowed your brows in confusion, sitting up to reach out to him. He nearly jumped up as he felt your hand on his shoulder, only relaxing when he turned around to see you gazing up at him.

“Are you alright?” You asked, running your thumb along the curve of his shoulder. “Can’t sleep?”

He just nodded his head to the window where you could see the rain breaching the wake of the Black Lake. “The rain. It woke me up a little bit ago.”

“A little bit?” You asked, trying to hide your frown when you saw the dark rings developing around and under his eyes.

He hadn’t slept well the past couple of nights, and you were hoping he was going to do better with you sleeping with him. But the weather had other plans.

He let out a frustrated sigh, having to take a calming breath. “Just maybe an hour or two.”

You could tell how aggravated not being able to sleep was making him. He couldn't sleep when he tried–and he couldn’t stay asleep once he finally managed to drift off. It was a vicious cycle, and you wished you could ease his pain. You looked over to the pack of cigarettes on his nightstand, seeing that one had been pulled out but not lit.

You gave his shoulder a squeeze, your voice soft. “Wanna go outside and smoke? I’ll come with you if you do, just let me–”.

Theo could feel embarrassment bubbling in his chest, feeling his skin heat. You knew him so well, even when neither of you had to say anything. You just understood how he ticked, and sometimes that frightened him.

He knew there was nothing about him that you judged or looked down on–he knew that. But sometimes, with how gentle and understanding you treated him, he’d begin to feel like a burden. Like he was something you convinced yourself you had to fix out of obligation, not because you wanted to. He couldn’t have been more wrong, but it was hard for him to see that. And when he saw you going out of your way to try and help him, he shut it down.

“No, pretty girl,” he interrupted, reaching up to cradle your cheek in his palm. “I’ll go later. Go back to sleep. You don’t need to be up for a while.”

You could feel your chest tighten. He needed your help, but he didn’t know how to ask for it–he didn’t know how to accept it. The day had barely started, and you could see how drained he was already. And with a full week of classes coming up?

He wasn't going to make it.

“Come here, sweet boy,” you pleaded, laying back down against the pillows and opening your arms. “Forget about the rain for a moment. Just lay with me for a bit. You don’t have to sleep–just close your eyes and breath.”

Theo almost said no.

He was so close to shaking his head and brushing you off, but he couldn’t ignore the look in your eyes. You wanted to hold him just as much as he needed to be held, and he was so exhausted that he didn’t have it in him to argue. He finally relented, crawling back into bed with you under the covers. He rested his head against your chest, letting his arms settle around your waist. You threaded your fingers through his hair, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. It was quiet for a moment as you stared up at the ceiling, his gaze set on the window.

“I can hear your heartbeat,” he murmured after a moment, pressing a kiss into your skin. “It’s nice.”

You smiled, knowing he could hear how your heart fluttered at his words. “Good. Focus on that, not the rain. Close your eyes, baby. Just rest.”

—

Lorenzo Berkshire:

this man is 100% the kind of guy that stomped in puddles as a little kid after it rained, even if his parents yelled at him for it.

he’d want to let you sleep, but he’d be so excited that—if you didn’t wake up fast enough—he’s easing you awake and begging you to come outside with him.

he wouldn’t want you getting wet tho, he doesn’t want you catching a cold or feeling uncomfortable. he just wants to be able to look at you while he enjoys his morning.

if you wanna splash in the puddles with him, he’ll get over himself and agree. but if you get sick, you’re getting a firm “i told you so,” but of course he’d take care of you anyways.

he’d think you look ADORABLE, even if you were soaked. once you get back inside to change, you better believe that man is throwing you one of his hoodies before you have a chance to put on something else.

You groaned as the bed shifted next to you, and a hand gently pulled at your shoulder. It was far too early for you to be up—Enzo especially, who loved nothing more than to sleep in—and you shrugged away as you buried your face in the pillows.

“Honey, please,” Enzo pleaded with you, a warm hand coming to cup your cheek. “I can’t wait any longer.”

You cracked one eye open, peering up at him with a huff of frustration. “What is it?”

“It’s raining!” He said excitedly, rolling out of bed to peer out the window.

You smiled, letting out an exasperated chuckle. You groaned as you pushed yourself up into a sitting position, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. Enzo was practically halfway out the window already, leaning over the rail to see the grounds below.

“It rains nearly every week, darling,” you said, the covers pooling around your waist.

“Not like this,” he rationalized, coming back over to the bed to put on his shoes. “The puddles down there are massive.”

You smiled wider, leaning down to the foot of the bed where he was sitting to wrap your arms around his waist. “You’re so adorable, sometimes. Still a kid at heart, I think. My life would be a lot happier if I could see it like how you see yours.”

“Actually, I’m adorable all the time,” he corrected, turning around to press a kiss to your cheek. “But you’re the reason my life is happy. Jumping in those puddles downstairs will just make me happier. Come with me?”

You nodded, throwing on some clothes before following him down the stairs to the ground below.

You winced as he slipped before steadying himself, letting out a laugh as he continued running. You internally urged him to be more careful, but you couldn’t help but smile from under the covered archway as he splashed around in the water, a dreamy glaze over his eyes. It must have been quite the sight to anyone looking out the windows above you.

One of the most popular Slytherins in the entire school–splashing around in puddles like a child.

After a moment, you stepped out into the rain with him. He held out a hand for you to steady yourself, before placing his hands on your waist to keep you from slipping. He smoothed your hair back to keep it from matting to your face when you stilled.

“Go back under the cover, sweetheart. It’s too cold. I don’t want you getting sick out here.”

You shook your head, letting your arms settle around his neck. “And why would I do that? You’re out here. You’re just as likely to get sick.”

“Yes, but I have you to take care of me. You’ll end up with Madam Pomfrey if you get sick, she’s a lot more capable of taking care of you than me.”

You shrugged, blinking the rain out of your eyes. “Poppy and I get along quite well.”

Enzo let you stay out with him another moment longer, before he was leading you both back inside. As soon as you got back up to his dorm, he was casting a Warming Charm on you and shoving you into the bathroom to change clothes. The second you stepped out, he was helping you pull one of his hoodies over your head.

“Better?” You asked, grinning when his cheeks flushed a rosy pink.

He nodded, pulling you close. “Better.

—

Mattheo Riddle:

rainy day? oh, you mean never come out from under the covers day?

he’d absolutely whine about being cold. expect cold feet touching your legs, even when you’re squirming and trying to push him away. he’s not letting go. you’re his personal heater.

he’s definitely using it as a day to just be close to you and talk. he hardly ever lets himself be completely vulnerable around you, but being this close to you makes him feel like he can. just listen as best you can, and he’ll value that time with you so much.

i do think he’d get a bit uncomfortable and restless after a while, but he’d still want to keep talking to you like this. so you’d come up with some excuse to bring him somewhere else secluded so he can still be open with you but more comfortably.

but getting wet? an absolute no from him. wherever you take him has to be dry, or you will be hearing about it from him for the rest of the day.

You woke up to ice cold feet rubbing against your shins, opening your eyes with a gasp. Mattheo had wrapped himself around you tightly, his arms trapping you in his hold.

“Mattheo!” You whined, trying to squirm away. “Matty, please get your feet off me. And, for Merlin’s sake, put on socks! I told you last time!”

“I can’t get out of bed in this weather! It’s too cold, darling.”

You could practically feel his teeth chattering. He nuzzled his head into your neck, but you could feel his grin when he slid his foot down your leg. You eventually relented, turning around in his hold to face him so he could pull you closer.

“Come here, you big baby,” you mused, making it a point to kick his foot away before you hooked your leg around his to warm him up.

You stayed like that for a long while, his head tucked up into your neck. Every once in a while, he’d murmur something into your skin, his voice low as he talked to you. You listened, muttering praises into his ear and coaxing him to continue every time there was a moment of silence. It was unusual to have him be this open with you, and you weren’t about to let him pull away.

After a while, Mattheo started to fidget. He’d stretch a limb one at a time before curling back into you, continuing to talk. You could see the strain on his face—you could hear it in his voice. Finally, you reached for your wand, casting a Warming Charm over you both. You stood up, pulling on a hoodie of his before passing another one to him.

“Come on, my love. Your bed is too tiny and the dungeons are too cold for us to both be cooped up in here all day. Let’s get you warm somewhere else.”

He grumbled as he pulled himself out of bed, but he eagerly took the hand you offered him. “If I get rained on I’m not talking to you for the rest of the day.”

“We both know that’s not true, darling,” you grinned, pressing a kiss to the back of his hand before pulling him out the door.

—

Regulus Black:

early riser for SURE.

like he’s definitely the type to wake up in the morning and just lay there and think. and with you there, he’d be more than content to just lay with you and listen to the rain.

he strikes me as the kind of person who likes an overcast sky. the sound of rain is calming, the sight of you is calming, and he wouldn’t feel like he needed to get up or do something productive. he’d just lay there and wait till you woke up to see what you wanted to do.

he really values his alone time, but he’d also appreciate sharing that time with you sometimes. you don’t have to talk, either. silence is good sometimes, and it brings him peace.

but he’s definitely the type that wants to stay in under the covers and just have the day with you. and if the rain stopped in the next ten minutes? he doesn’t care. he’s declared it a rainy day, and you can’t change his mind.

Regulus had been up for hours by the time you woke up. He had propped himself up against his headboard, and gently moved you to where your head was resting against his stomach. He had been absentmindedly smoothing his hand over your hair when you finally opened your eyes, looking up at him.

He felt you move your head, smiling down at you. “Morning, love.”

You took a deep breath, smiling as the fresh air from the open window gently wafted in. You reached for his free hand, intertwining your fingers with his.

“It’s finally raining,” you mused, peering out the window before dropping your head back down against his stomach. “I’ve been waiting all week for it to rain. Looks like it’s clearing up, though.”

“Is it? Well, we’ll ignore that, won’t we? I don’t feel like moving today. I’ll move tomorrow.”

You chuckled into his skin, tracing your fingertips just under the hem of his shirt. “I assume that means I’m not moving either, am I?”

Regulus just hummed, a warm feeling spreading through his chest as you settled yourself back into him. It was quiet for a moment as you both rested, feeling each other’s chests rise and fall. Regulus felt the worries of the day quite literally blow away, allowing himself this time with you. And with how relaxed you looked in his arms, he knew you felt the same way.

“Let me know if you’re getting hungry, alright?” He asked softly just as you were beginning to drift back off. “We can go down.”

You nodded, closing your eyes as you nuzzled closer to him. He smiled to himself, finally tearing his eyes away from you to look back out the window.

— A/N - Hi! I’m so sorry that some of these are a bit longer than others, I just find it easier writing for some of the boys. I have such a soft spot for Theo, and I got a little carried away. I promise to make the next one a little more even and fair. Thank you again for reading and submitting prompts, I’ll gladly take any more you have! I hope you enjoyed this :)

#harry potter #slytherin #slytherin boys react #slytherin boys #theodore nott x reader #theo nott x reader #enzo berkshire x reader #lorenzo berkshire #lorenzo berkshire x reader #theodore nott #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle #regulus black #regulus black x reader

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bloodstainedsapphic · 11 months ago

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self-indulgent fluff because I live somewhere cold as fuck and consume an absurd amount of hot chocolate. enjoy! 1k words | slytherin reader | sickeningly sweet | not edited | forgoes the rules in hogwarts kitchens

"Bloody hell, my dicks s'bout to freeze off," Enzo grunted, plopping down beside you as you wrapped yourself in a cocoon of blankets on one of the green-tufted leather couches that adorned the Slytherin common room.

While your home base exuded an air of regal antiquity that you had grown to appreciate throughout your years attending Hogwarts, its stellar placement in the school's dungeons meant that some evenings were more than chilly, sometimes downright freezing. While the crackling fireplaces scattered about did wonders to keep students from succumbing to frostbite during the coldest winter months, they weren't always sufficient on particularly wintry nights, especially around the holidays.

"That's certainly a visual, Enz, thanks," you responded with a small snort at his crude greeting. He shot you an unamused glance followed by an eye roll, appearing just as grumpy from the cold as you were.

"These dungeons might as well be the Arctic tonight. Can you blame me for feeling a tad paranoid?" Enzo countered, inching closer to you than usual for warmth. A fiery spark ignited in your stomach at his proximity, but you quickly dismissed it, seeing as you were merely a cozy blanket to him at the moment.

"There has to be something we could do," he lamented, clearly more agitated than you already thought. He gestured to you as you sat swathed in blankets with a mix of worry and exasperation, "Just look at you all bundled up, for blimey's sake. Cute, but damn concerning."

He called you cute. The chill could excuse the blush on your cheeks, right? Still, you wanted to pacify Enzo before he threw a fit at someone who wouldn't take so kindly to his attitude.

Thinking quickly, you brightened, an idea forming in your mind.

"A warm beverage might help. We could go make some hot cocoa?"

The way Enzo's eyes bugged out momentarily was rather amusing, as if your proposition was utterly absurd. It was, but you couldn't resist the chance to cozy up more with the Slytherin golden boy. You worried he might protest, so you used your best pleading face. His pretty brown eyes softened, and a faint smirk tugged at his lips—the first sign of warmth from him in an otherwise frosty evening.

"Yeah, sure, we can do that." ------------------------------

"I'm hardly sophisticated enough to be melting chocolate bars or anything like that. We're sticking to packets, and you'll enjoy it," you teased Enzo lightly as the saucepan warmed milk on the stove.

"Who do you think I am, the hot cocoa critic?" Enzo quipped back, retrieving two oversized mugs from a nearby cabinet. "I demand mine at precisely so-and-so degrees, with an exact 80% sweetness," he joked, earning an eye roll from you to mirror the one he had given earlier on the couch.

"I'll water yours down," you threatened, feigning annoyance though secretly reveling in the presence of the cute boy who seemed to have thawed out with your company. His slight pout quickly melted your resolve, and you dropped two cocoa packets into each mug for an extra chocolatey taste. His ability to summon a puppy-dog look with those full lips and gold-speckled eyes was a true talent.

Once the milk reached the right temperature, Enzo beat you to lift the pan and pour the steaming liquid into the mugs. You noticed he poured more into yours, so you nudged his side with a raised eyebrow as soon as he set the pan down.

"Hey, this was your idea, and you seemed even colder than me back in the common room. We're prioritizing you," Enzo justified, to which you nervously smiled, contemplating how to return his sweetness.

You rummaged the same cabinets for a container of mini marshmallows, returning with it and generously topping each mug. You made a show of adding far more marshmallows to his mug, causing Enzo to chuckle in surprise.

"That's more marshmallow than cocoa at this point!" he protested, grinning widely.

"You gave me more cocoa, so you get more marshmallows. It's only fair," you said with a nonchalant shrug, implying it couldn't be helped despite being the one to pile them on.

You both gripped the handles of your mugs and brought them to your lips, sharing a surprisingly intimate moment as your eyes met. Was drinking hot chocolate supposed to feel this tense?

After blowing on your beverage for a few seconds, you took your first sip, relishing in the immediate warmth that flooded your senses. Enzo also sighed contentedly, and you beamed at his approval. He glanced at you again, his brow furrowing momentarily before his expression shifted, his focus turning to something else. He set his mug down before raising his thumb to brush over your top lip. You froze, the flush on your face intensifying after his touch.

"Little cocoa on your lip, sorry," he muttered, his voice cracking for a moment before he then brought his thumb to his mouth, tasting the remnants he had wiped off yours. Your brain was broken for the moment. It was as if you were watching these last few instances from an outside perspective. Was he as nervous as you? Seemed impossible for someone as charismatic and cool as him.

"I, uh…," you stammered while gathering your bearings.

"Just trying to be helpful," Enzo tried to brush off his actions, his free hand rubbing the back of his neck. The way his gaze never left your lips betrayed his true feelings.

Suddenly, you snapped back to reality. You couldn't let the moment slip away. This was your opportunity. Setting your mug down, you turned to face him with a shaky breath, grasping the collar of his shirt and pulling his face down to meet yours. He understood right away, meeting your lips with his without hesitation. His hands cupped your face, and though the kiss lasted only a few seconds, the passion behind it was enough to keep you both warm for the rest of the night.

As you pulled away, both stunned yet excited, Enzo mused with a satisfied grin, "I think that might have been the key to evading the cold."

You teased, "Don't underestimate the power of cocoa," to which he relented, shaking his head.

"Never, darling. Although, I might need another kiss if we're going to survive," he added with a cheeky smirk.

You smiled and leaned in for that second kiss. This evening's venture had proved to be the right decision in more ways than one, and you couldn't be more fulfilled.

#lorenzo berkshire #enzo berkshire #lorenzo berkshire x reader #enzo berkshire fluff #enzo berkshire x reader #slytherin #slytherin boys

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beegomess · 6 months ago

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Dark Paradise || Theodore Nott

Don't forget to watch the previous chapters

Reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated🫶🏼

11. Hints of jealousy

The joy of the younger students in returning from the small vacation was genuine, children ran the corridors and received curses from Snape, but they cared little about the grumpy teacher.

Y/N smiled when she saw the happiness radiate from the first Slytherians, she remembered when she was at that end of the table, looking with curiosity at the ceiling of the great hall. Nostalgia was invigorating at times, a hint of hope that his house had a little nicer students a few years ahead, who knows. One of the little girls noticed her looking and threw a shy little smile reciprocated by Y/N.

Theodore was in a good mood, something that hadn't been seen in a while. Berkshire's tireless attacks with the girl they were both in love with prevented him from having a completely good week. However, the event of last night made him behave as if his life was perfect now.

Y/N did not avoid the boy, but also did not look to him to talk about what happened, she, in fact, thought it was better that way at the time. In the transfiguration class, for example, they sat together, and both were afraid of the embarrassing silence happening, but it did not occur, they talked normally about the subjects of the class and other subjects not related to them.

However, of course, neither of them noticed the curious looks of Pansy and Mattheo. Although Riddle found the intimate piece in Daphne's kitchen, he and Pansy were not sure if what they had imagined had really happened, that is, there was still speculation between the two friends.

Later that day, the three slytherin friends were studying in the library, or at least that was the initial plan. They started looking for books and ended up gossiping about the latest events in their lives and at school.

- What's between you and Blaise, anyway? - Daphne was curious, but Y/N paid attention to Pansy, waiting for her answer. The brunette sighed, a little discouraged.

- Ah, I don't know yet. - Y/N and Daphne had their foreheads frowned in confusion, waiting for the explanation. - I like him on some level, but it seems like something so superficial. - Pansy paused, making sure no one was listening. - A few weeks ago we... Well, you know, but we haven't talked about it since then. Everything seems so confusing.

- Maybe it's a good time to confront him, don't you think? - Daphne asks.

- Well, I don't think so. I'm still not sure what I feel is really some feeling or just need. - She sighed again, but the discouragement quickly turned into a little smile. - This is not the case of Theo, for example, who lives in sighs when you are around. - Y/N did not expect it, just like Daphne, who hid a low smile with her hand.

- Don't exaggerate, Pans. - Y/N said a little awkwardly, looking at the book again, in an attempt to study. - Let's go back to transfiguration, better that way.

- And of course, Enzo seems to be the same way. - Parkinson ignored what she said and continued.

- Y/N definitely has all kinds of boys at your disposal. - Daphne plays and Y/N looks at her with irritation.

- Ah, that's a fact. - Pansy confirms.

- If you want to talk about it, let's go. Explain better what you mean Daph. - The girl surrenders, knowing that the more she denied, the longer it would take for that provocation to end.

- Well, let's start with the kind of shy and handsome boy, this one for sure is Nott. - Daphne starts and Pansy immediately agrees with all the description that would follow. - He attracts more girls than he seems, the charm also helps a lot.

- And did you just think about him? - Y/N asks with a convinced smile, thinking that the friend had ended up there.

- No way! Let me continue. - This time, Greengrass had a confident face. - There's also the well-known problem boy... - before she finished the sentence, Pansy and Y/N guessed it.

- Pucey. - They say in unison, laughing after that.

- But he doesn't count, he's not in love with me.

- He's in love with something you have, so he certainly counts. - Pansy said with a malicious tone. - Daphne, keep going.

- There's the clumsy guy, so clumsy that it can be seen as cute, this one is certainly Weasley. - Pansy makes a disgusting face and Y/N rolled her eyes in reaction to Parkinson's way, but kept listening. - And last, and the best in my opinion. Lorenzo Berkshire, beautiful, shy in the right measure, kind and so passionate. - Daphne seemed to die of love for the boy, even if she didn't know him so well.

- You could feel the friction between him and Nott this last weekend. - Pansy said and Y/N just sighs.

- Okay, now we can close the small acta about my personal life? - Y/N smile nervously, hoping that the subject would end at once.

The subject is not over, Daphne and Pansy continued to expose their opinions about Berkshire and Nott, but now they looked like tietes, while Pansy defended her friend Slytherin, Daphne said how much Berkshire was the love of Y/N's life since her childhood.

What did Y/N do in the meantime? She simply kept studying, from time to time, laughing at the arguments of the two friends about who was best for her.

[...]

Now, sitting in the stands, the three friends were talking quietly, completely inattentive to the quiditch match that took place between Sonserina and Lufa-Lufa.

Draco begged his sister to go see him, since Y/N did not use to go to these games normally, but she would make an exception for a brother's appeal. His presence there was a certain surprise to a few people, one of them was the lufana Laila, who had a great disaffection for Malfoy.

- It's pathetic how she cheers against her own house just for a boy. - Y/N thought loudly, drawing the attention of Mattheo, who sat next to her right.

- You're just jealous. - Riddle replied with a silly face, Y/N just rolled his eyes at his friend, ignoring anything he said. For Mattheo, the fact that she didn't even try to deny it made something quite clear to him.

Y/N decided to simply ignore Mattheo's comments about her or Laila's looks on the Slytherin side of the bleachers. The trio of girls began to accompany Draco, approaching the golden key a few times, but always being hit by Diggory, which made them anxious and more attentive to the game.

Some time passed, and Diggory got tired little by little, having difficulty following the blonde behind the small object. And finally, allowing Draco to finally reach the golden keb, ending the game with the Slytherin victory being announced all over the field. Amid the jumps of the students, Astoria approached Y/N, pulling her to speak in her ear.

- Aren't you going to see Draco? - Y/N laughed at the time, already understanding what she wants. It was common for girlfriends to wait for the players at the exit of the fields.

- You can go if you want, I'm sure he'll love to see you. - Astoria denied it with her head and insisted with a puppy face for her to accompany her. Y/N had no choice and went down the stairs towards the exit of the quidball field following Astoria.

- Y/N? - Draco had other colleagues around him congratulating him, the smile was wide and his face was surprised when he saw Y/N there.

- You'll understand. - Y/N said a few seconds before Astoria appeared behind her. Shyly, the girl approached Malfoy saying something that made him smile. Y/N just smiled, proud of the scene. It was cute how she had worried about him a few nights ago.

Theodore appeared coming from the field, and his eyes lit up, seeing that Y/N was there. He was going to talk to her when he was overtaken by someone who only identified it when he heard the annoying voice.

- Wow, love, you didn't have to come here to see me so soon. - Pucey spoke loudly making everyone listen. The boy had a malicious smile on his face and directed himself to Y/N, who rolled his eyes.

- It's not normal for people to dream awake, Pucey. You should treat yourself. - She responds in the same tone, laughing at the other Slytherins who were around. Y/N looked forward to Astoria who kept talking to her brother.

- It can be a reality if you want. - Adrian was closer, and now only he and Y/N heard each other. Y/N had a light laugh at the boy's proposal.

- Certainly not, thank you. - She also replied with a smile as if it were obvious, but Adrian pretended to be offense and continued.

- Well, we understand each other very well in most of the things a couple usually does. I only see advantages, dear. - He had his usual scaldy face again while moving a lock of Y/N's hair away from behind his ear, looking shamelessly at her mouth.

Y/N just moves away and calls Astoria, who quickly accompanies her out of the environment, but before they totally leave, Adrian screams again.

- Think about what I told you, Y/N. - The girl just laughs while denying with her head, disappearing from the place.

Theodore, who watched everything from where he was, saw only Adrian flirting with Y/N while she smiled. During the shower, Nott was mulling in curiosity to know what Pucey was saying to her that made her smile.

The good mood of having won the game definitely went away at the moment when the other Slytherine surpassed him in talking to the girl that day earlier.

_______________________________

A/N: Guys, tell me what you think of this fic, I'm curious to know! I saw that some people are following all the chapters of it and I would like to know

xoxo, bee🫶🏼✨

next chapter>>>

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munsonsreputation · 2 years ago

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ok, ok, envision it, #4 taylor prompt:

steve harrington; i wish you would

congrats on reaching that milestone love! 🫶🏻💖

elizabeth!!!!

my apologies that it took me so long to get to your request 😭😭 i hope i was still able to do it justice and i hope you love it!!

"i wish you would" is one of my fave tracks off 1989 and im so ready for the rerecord of it!! it's also sooo steve harrington encoded -- i hope you like my twist of angsty fluffiness!!!

It was 2AM — too late of a time for either of you to be awake right now.

But Steve was on the other side of the door.

And you were also on the other side of the door.

Just an old wooden door separating the two of you but no one daring to make the first move and open it all because it came down to one thing—pride.

You and Steve had a hell of a lot of pride, which often led to stupid arguments over the dumbest things. Usually, the fight would resolve in a matter of minutes, if not maybe hours. Arguments never exceeded days or weeks—that was until now.

It was safe to say that outside your relationship, you each had lives consisting of managing a VHS store and yours filled with busy days at college completing a very stressful internship. The only time the two of you would get to kick back and relax is when you came home to each other. Spending the winding days in bed or lazily making dinner before falling asleep in each other arms on the couch.

Either way, it was both your and Steve’s preferred way of living.

That is until life got a bit too real and hectic, leading the two of you to spend less time together and more time on different schedules.

Family Video had incorporated a new tracking system which caused Steve to need to stay back later, trying to work through the stupid software so that the opening shift didn’t call him the next morning complaining about it not working.

Your internship was taking a toll on you mentally, requiring you to get up earlier than usual and head to campus in order to get work done before the day ended. Your colleague in the program had totally ghosted you, leaving you to pick up the slack when you weren’t quite sure how much of it you could carry alone.

By the time Steve got home, you were already asleep.

And by the time he woke up you were already gone.

The place you two shared didn’t even feel like a home anymore. Just simply a place where you two were in passing of each other before going off to live completely closed off lives. Suddenly, the energy just shifted, as if the two of you were now a crooked love with no idea where this was headed.

It was brutal for both of you, but of course it was always easier to blame each other instead of figuring out how to work past it. It didn’t help that the both of you were quick with your words, always biting back at one another with insults that neither of you really meant, just being used in the moment to deflect.

It blew up last week when you and Steve had both woken up late. The home phone blaring with calls from Family Video and Robin paging Steve every second. The alarm clock in your bedroom ringing sharply jolting the two of you awake.

Maybe it was the morning grumpiness combined with the exhaustion you two were facing, but either way it resulted in an early morning argument that was like a train running off the tracks.

“When’s the last time we even had dinner together?” You asked sharply as you combed your hair in the bathroom mirror.

Steve lifted his head after he spat out the toothpaste, glaring at you in the reflection. “It’s not my fault that by the time I get home you’re already passed out on the couch. What do you want me to do? Haul your half asleep body into the kitchen and force you to make spaghetti with me?”

You rolled your eyes, throwing your comb back into the drawers, slamming it shut as you walked away from him, though he was hot on your heels, still going on.

“Or wait do you want me to take you to Enzo’s so you can sleep in a booth while I eat never ending breadsticks?”

He watched you fling open the closet doors, grabbing a jacket and throwing it over your outfit, before you stared pointedly at him, “You’re such a fucking dick, Steven!”

“Oh, so I’m the dick now? How about the last time we had an actual conversation with each other that wasn’t just hi, hello, and bye?”

You brushed past him, bending to pick up your backpack and sling it over your shoulder. He reached into the closet, grabbing his vest and throwing it on before following you down the hallway and into the living room.

“Seems like we’re having one right now.” You muttered, grabbing your keys on the coffee table.

“Sure does,” He sighed, reaching for his own car keys.

That morning the two of you went your separate ways, starting off the day on a bad foot with nothing but hatred. But the two of you could never ever hate each other.

That wasn’t what your love was.

It was never formed from hate or thrived off of it.

It was supposed to be the kind that was always understanding and working together, but that was a standard that you knew you and Steve just weren’t capable of all the time.

The two of you were bringing less than a hundred percent to the table combined. There had to be some kind of compromise, a way for it to be settled, but of course, this was just something that was going to get dragged on until you both felt like putting your pride aside and taking the first step.

That fight was the catalyst that led the two of you here. Still standing on the other side of the door—your shared bedroom door that is.

For the past week, Steve was out on the couch while you occupied the bedroom. Not that you kicked him out or banned him from sleeping in bed with you, but you had gotten home the night after the fight and he was already home, knocked out asleep on the couch.

So you left him there, and since then that’s where he slept.

You couldn’t say you felt good about it because you didn’t. His back was probably all sorts of fucked up from cramming himself to sleep somewhat comfortably on that couch. And you had certainly missed his presence beside you in the middle of the night.

Steve didn’t know why he kicked himself out, probably just so you could both get some space and cool off, but he hadn’t meant for it to go on for this long. He missed kissing your forehead goodnight when he finally got home, and he certainly missed the way you’d do the same when you had to leave in the morning.

Right now, it just felt like a lot of yearning for one another because neither of you could remember what you were fighting for in the first place.

For pride?

For ego?

For what?

All you both wanted to do was just give each other the tightest hug and longest kiss because you missed each other that much.

You wanted to cry to him, to tell him that your stupid internship was driving you insane and all you really wanted was for him to hold you and tell you everything was going to be ok.

Steve wanted to vent to you over how stupid that damn tracking system was and how it was driving him up the walls and all he really needed right now was your encouragement to keep going.

He was probably asleep.

You were probably asleep.

Maybe it could wait until morning?

If either of you opened the door to see the other sleeping, it would just make you both want to turn back around and run from actually waking the other to apologize. It was best to just run back under the blankets and wait until you were both awake.

But honestly, the both of were just too exhausted and missing each other to even be mad anymore.

Fuck it…this couldn’t wait and neither of you was going to let it drag on.

“Baby,”

“Babe,”

The two of you stared at each other dumbfounded as if you were ghosts, but it didn’t last long as Steve quickly wrapped his arms around your back, pulling your body into his as you draped your arms around his neck, gluing yourself to him.

“I missed you.” You murmured into the juncture of his jaw and neck.

He could feel the heat of your breath fanning against his skin, a trickle of tears following suit only making him hold you tighter.

“I missed you more…and I’m sorry for being a dick.” He said, breathing in the smell of your hair and he whispered into it.

You sniffled, shaking your head the best you could in his hold, before he loosened, allowing you to look up at him through your watery eyes.

“I’m sorry too…I didn’t mean to take it out on you. I was just so stressed and I missed you too much to tell you how I was really feeling and I—”

He smiled softly at you, letting his thumb brush your tears away as he shook his head, “I did the same, baby. I just wished we didn’t solve it that morning…it would’ve prevented whatever the fuck happened last week.”

You laughed quietly, nodding your head in agreement. “I know. I wished we would have.”

“We can now.” Steve suggested, holding your face in your hands.

You smiled, sniffling once more before letting one of your hands rest on his cheek, “Yeah we can.”

Your lips finally connected after what seemed like a lifetime away. A reminder that while the love you and Steve shared wasn’t always picture perfect, it was certainly something that you both were always going to come back to.

You were each other’s person.

The other half you wanted to go to with all of life’s joys and upsets.

Together.

Sure, maybe you both pushed each other’s buttons way too easily, but it was the love that made the two of you come rushing back to each other.

Because when it mattered and came down to it, you and Steve could never live without each other — no matter the distance or even the stupid internship or job you each had.

Right here and right now, it was all good.

let me know what you think: reblogs, tags, comments, and likes are greatly appreciated!!!

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our-flag-means-yippee · 11 days ago

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THESE ARE ALL THE MOST PROMINENT CHARACTERS OF WHAT ELSE WE DO IN THE SHADOWS!!! MOST ARE BASED OF ALREADY PRE-EXISTING OFMD CHARACTERS BUT THE REST ARE PURELY ORIGINAL!!!

What Else We Do In The Shadows is basically an autistic fever dream I came up with prior to Our Flag Means Death s2. It features original dumbasses that are heavily inspired by the dumbasses from Our Flag, and is set in the world of the original What We Do In The Shadows (I basically just added the word "Else" in there, lemme know if i should change it).

To get a general basis of the characters in this AU, think of Edward and Stede from Our Flag Means Death. Now think of Viago and Anton from What We Do In The Shadows. I basically just followed the same formula with the Revenge Crew.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Now, the characters:

Rod Rodriguez - Rod is the swapped version of Jim Jimenez (see what I did there?) Rod is, in the best way possible, too nice to be a 310 year old vampire. They are often naive in their choices and easily get overwhelmed when things don’t go as planned. They try to find the silver lining in situations, even though that phrase has gotten them in trouble a few times.

Enzo Abebe - Enzo is the swapped version of Oluwande Boodhari, a werewolf in his mid-30’s who has a hard time enjoying pretty much anything. He tries to fit into human society the most out of anyone, but the problem is that he hates people. Has no trouble getting into trouble if it means he gets something out of it, but regardless of being only a fraction of the vampires age, he harbors the most wisdom about trying to survive life.

Horace Balassa - Horace is the swapped version of Black Pete, a seven century (plus 1 year) old vampire who has been sick of everyone’s shit since day one. As a former plague doctor and retired prostitute, he knows a thing or two about “taking care of people”. He serves as the grumpy old man anchor to Rod’s perpetual optimism, and tries to have as much carnal enjoyment as possible. Despite his promiscuous lifestyle, he yearns for any romantic connection with someone.

Finley Jones - Finley is the swapped version of Lucius Spriggs, a werewolf in his early 30’s who not only doesn’t know jack shit, he’s never even heard of him. He’s a repressed former frat guy who tries to prove that he’s the alpha but fails. Miserably. Every time. I’m not even sure if his frontal lobe is even developed at his big age. He’s the oc I shit on the most because he is that fucking stupid but it’s just bc I love him.

Lionel Garnier - Lionel is the swapped version of Frenchie, an energy vampire who never shows any emotion. I’m gonna be upfront and this may get me cancelled, but he is the servant to Finley’s family. I know it sounds very bad at surface level BUT I PROMISE THAT THERE IS NUANCE AND A PURPOSE TO THIS. Many other characters point this out, and it’s shown to be problematic even in canon. While showing little emotion in his inflections, he provides the gangs snide comments about the bullshit they go through, and does his absolute most to drain their energy. But he’s also very loyal and protective of them, especially to Finley, whom he’s known for years.

Princey Fluffernutter - He’s the swapped version of Izzy Hands… I don’t think I can defend myself on this one. He’s a strigoi who is kinda like the Petyr of the group. He mostly lives in their basement and feeds off Rod and Horace’s leftovers. No one knows how old this guy is. Despite his mind mostly being lost to time, he still retains some consciousness and probably has the most common sense out of the entire gang, and is the most technologically advanced. Would most likely be depicted as an iPad kid in fan works.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

So yeah, these are the main characters of my AU. I am currently in the middle of the fourth season and I plan on writing nine. Yeah.

This show at its core is a comedy that sometimes does deep dives on why my characters are the way they are, and challenge the status quo when it comes to the relationship between werewolves and vampires, and attempts to give more depth to the werewolf species of the wwdits universe.

It features an EXPLICITLY and UNASHAMEDLY queer cast of characters who learn how to go through life together as non-humans. Their identities don’t hinder on their arcs (except maybe one but only for a like a few episodes) and we get to see many different dynamics among the group ranging from friends, lovers, enemies, frenemies with benefits… and most important of all, family <3

All of the episodes are available on my ao3 (@our_flag_means_yippee) if you want to take a look! Just search up “What Else We Do In The Shadows” and you’ll be sure to find all seasons 1-4 on there!

Links to the seasons:

Season 1:

Season 2:

Season 3:

Season 4:

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bruhbenton · 2 years ago

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PIZZAHEAD BRAINROT!!!! [this gets updated regularly]

HI GUYS I'VE BECOME OBSESSED WITH PIZZAHEAD FROM PIZZA TOWER SO I'VE SORT OF CREATED A HEADCANON/AU STORY OF HIM

OK SO PIZZAHEAD ISN'T ACTUALLY PIZZAHEAD'S FULL LEGAL NAME IS "Totino Pagliaccio Enzo" (Totally did not take the name "Enzo" from @very-normal-pizza-tower-askblog)

Totino is from a dimension where people and creatures are made from pizza-like ingredients. Ex: Himself, Cheese-slimes, Toppins, Pizza Granny, etc...

Totino specifically lives in a country called Gaetacione.

His dad is Pizzaface, who've I've given the name Giorgio, and he has a younger brother, whose name is Tonio, or Tony for short, and he had a mother named Fiorella which passed away when he was younger.

The country of Gaetacione, Giorgio is the ruler, which would make Totino next in line when Giorgio dies or abdicates the throne, Totino would take place.

[LORE CHANGE ABOUT GIORGIO]

Okay so basically I've grown fond of Giorgio too much that I decided to not make him a villain. Giorgio is a stern, no-nonsense ruler. He tends to be very stoic, and looks down at humans as he thinks they're weak and pathetic lol. He's a grumpy 50 year old man and I love him. He generally isn't *too* grumpy around Tonio and Totino. He simply tolerates humans, except Gustavo because Gustavo helped Totino after the tower collapse........they're totally not in a relationship or anything [SCREAMS]

One day Giorgio learned about the dimension that Peppino is from, and learned out that pizza chefs like Peppino create pizzas, and sell them for people to eat. Giorgio thought that these pizzas were sentient like him and Totino, so Giorgio informed his immediate family about it, and sent Totino to build the tower and try to destroy Peppino's restaurant. Totino built a robot in the resemblance of his father because he thinks he's scary lol

So, Totino basically got the shit kicked out of him, tower got destroyed, and Totino basically got really fucking injured from the wreckage/debris from the tower, fled to the woods to try to avoid being noticed by others, Gustavo eventually found him and took him in because he felt bad for Totino.

Peppino feels that Totino's already got what he deserved (cause he got the everloving shit got beaten out of him, and probably had a few chunks bitten out of him by wild animals), so they're on speaking terms. Totino and Peppino generally get along, they're sort of neutral.

Totino mainly stays in the dimension that Peppino resides in unless he's needed in Gaetacione.

Pizzahead just sort of hangs out with the Pizza Tower crew (Peppino, Gustavo, Mr. Stick, Noise, etc...), and Peppino just simply tolerates his goofy shenanigans.

Fun fact headcanons:

Pizzahead's home dimension is permanently just stuck in the mid 1930s lol

Pizzahead's home dimension is a monarchy. Giorgio (Pizzaface) is the current ruler.

Pizzahead sounds like Gene Wilder while talking and singing. [specifically his role in Willy Wonka]

Pizzahead is childhood friends with Pepperman and Vigilante. I haven't given them real names yet because I can't think of any rn lol!!!!!

Pizzahead is probably around 25-30 years old, his birthday is June 2nd.

Pizzahead would much rather you call him "Totino"

Pizzahead mostly listens to older music, stuff like The Chordettes and Al Bowly, Vera Lynn, Irving Berlin, stuff like that.

Pizzahead will get mad and nauseous if someone eats pizza in his vicinity.

Pizzahead is scared of humans, mostly because some humans will try to eat his fucking limbs most of the time.

Pizzahead isn't very durable. His skin (cheese) will start melting off at temperatures above 95-100 degrees. His limbs will also easily break or dislocate because they're literally made of baked dough. He can technically be eaten, but he can regenerate over time, or be fixed quickly by being put near a heat source. If he is damaged too much, like a large portion of his limbs getting removed, or his head being decapitated, he will have to be re-made, probably by a pizza chef like Peppino. He also bleeds pizza sauce.

Pizzahead is literally a walking cartoon character. He can make random things appear, like comically large wooden mallets or a stick of dynamite.

Pizza people (such as Pizzahead) are vegetarians. They won't eat anything that is on pizza, like bread, cheese, tomatos, etc. They mostly eat random houseplants, and random plants in the wild. They technically can just eat wood from trees, too, which is a really fucking funny image to me.

Pizzahead is VERY tall. He is 8'5. His younger brother, Tonio, is 7'8. Giorgio is 10'2.

Peppino and Pizzahead somewhat get along. Pizzahead just likes to annoy him and play pranks on him.

#pizzaface #pizza tower #pizza tower headcanon #pizzahead #pizza tower peppino #peppino spaghetti #GaetacioneAU

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rumblcs · 9 months ago

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☆ﾟ.*・ ◞ zendaya coleman / demi-woman / biracial / she/they ——— is that beatrice 'tris' bennett on bourbon street ? the twenty-one/ twenty-two year old vampire who stay in the marigny/bywater ? i heard their biological parents are bonnie bennett & enzo st. john. they are notoriously known for being erudite & intuitive but also aggrieved & demoralized . which is probably why they are considered the despondant around town. i wonder if they had their tarot cards reading, yet? either way, the cards on the table will reveal their fate soon enough //

stats !

full name: beatrice bennett. nicknames: tris. gender: demi woman. pronouns: she/they. sexuality: pansexual. parents: bonnie bennett & enzo st. john. siblings: tbd. species: vampire. neighborhood: marigny/bywater occupation: currently unemployed. label: the despondent

lil bio ! ( death tw )

magic had always been one of the most important things in tris' life. her powers manifested when she was very young, their mother quickly becoming her teacher and saving grace. not much else really kept tris' attention as a young child aside from magic. learning about it, learning to control it, just absorbing everything. there was another part of her, not something they were ashamed about or anything, just something beatrice wished they could change. their vampire gene.

it wasn't that she had any ill will towards vampires, in fact one of her favorite people ever was a vampire, enzo. it was what would happen to them post transition. being ripped away from the magic she held so incredibly dear. the magic that was woven into their very being. so from maybe too young an age, tris had decided she would never complete her transition when the moment came. it wasn't something she had shared with her parents, or their siblings really. just something beatrice had declared to herself.

as she grew not only in age, but skill, beatrice was thankful to have bonnie to learn from. to have an incredibly powerful and skilled mentor and mother. tris had gone searching for other supernatural beings, wanting to connect on that level with a person other than her family. it wasn't too long until she'd fallen in love with a vampire. for a while they tried to deny their feelings, the vampire would live for an eternity while tris had absolutely no interest in living beyond losing their magic.

it didn't take long before she was unable to avoid the attraction between the pair and fell into a whirlwind romance. that was until one evening, one that they cannot quite remember. one that turned fatal. tris isn't exactly sure how she died, all they remember is waking up with blood flowing into their mouth, instincts and thirst kicking in before they realized what had happened. it was their partner's wrist, the partner who had been the only person tris had actually confided in about their wishes to die than become a vampire.

rage, sadness, grief, pain, completely devoured them. snapping partners neck and fleeing was tris' only option, they could no longer stand to be around someone who had utterly betrayed them. calling her parents in an absolute fit of panic, they had all decided it would be best for beatrice to spend time with enzo to get accustomed to their new life.

their attendance here in new orleans is to visit with their mother. to try and step back into the magical world without losing her mind completely. while as a child tris had been an eager, curious, bright, and happy young kid, their transition has all but changed them completely. a grumpy, disheartened demeanor and attitude left in it's place.

#inaduintro #death tw

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onthepageauthorservicesllc · 1 year ago

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Faking It with Mr. Grump: AN ENEMIES TO LOVERS SMALL TOWN ROMANCE Ashlyn Hyatt https://www.amazon.com/Faking-Mr-Grump-ENEMIES-ROMANCE-ebook/dp/B0CCJQWHCB/ref=sr_1_2 Come and join my readers group! https://www.facebook.com/groups/3608338166114457

This grumpy billionaire thinks he can waltz into my life and demand a fake marriage?

Not happening.

Prodigal son Enzo Rossi hasn’t shown his face here in more than a decade, while I’ve spent the last eleven years making his family’s vineyard a success.

Now he has the audacity to ask for my cooperation to claim his inheritance.

He’s relied on his good looks and fat wallet to charm his way into getting what he wants, but it’ll take more than a flashy smile and an Amex Black Card to tempt me.

At least, that’s what I keep telling myself.

In truth, I feel more drawn to him by the day, and the vineyard has bigger worries than Enzo taking over.

Could marrying Mr. Grump be the answer to all our problems?

#author #book worm #writer #fantasy romance #library

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aurorablooded · 1 year ago

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"Please send me screenshots so that I can lord them over Leo later." Enzo grinned playfully. He did enjoy teasing the twin, not quite as much as he'd always enjoyed teasing Ender, but he wasn't around for Enzo to enjoy at the moment, much to the son of Apollo's displeasure. While he and Ender might not have been the power couple they perhaps had planned to be, he did still very much care for the other son of Wine, wherever he had taken himself. As Skye explained more about the man Leo had married, Enzo couldn't help his laughter, because nope he couldn't picture Leonid Malikov of all people marrying such a person. Ever since he had known Leo, the one fact Enzo had recognised was that the man was going to find himself a sugar daddy to marry. Hilariously that hadn't happened. "A French astronaut? If I didn't know you as well as I did, I would think you were bullshitting me." He laughed.

When Skye looked at him after Enzo had explained who he'd gone and married, he just shrugged one shoulder, smile a little dreamy as he thought of Izyk. "Si, that grumpy Poseidon son who liked his boat more than he liked anyone else." He grinned. Enzo waved his hand dismissively at the mention of money as he sat himself down at the nearby piano and began to softly play a few bars. "Psh, I have more money than sense. And I am happy, the happiest I've ever been Skye. I know he's a little...rough around the edges with most people, but with me he's so sweet. Honestly I could write a hundred songs about him and I hate to get all mushy." He chuckled. "And trust me, he fucks better than anyone, better than Ender and I don't say that lightly. So it's not settling mio amore, sometimes I wonder what he ever saw in me."

"Oh I know he is. You should see my phone. Leaving him on read is one of the hardest and most comical things I have done in a long time." She giggled yet sighed missing her best friend so much it ached deep in her bones. Though she would never admit it she knew that Leo really had no option in inviting her, it was just the two of them and the guy who married them but it still hurt. All she had gotten was a single text to announce not only was he engaged but married before he was whisked away to his honeymoon and Skye was left at camp bored out of her mind for weeks. "Honestly he is never what I expected for Leo and at the same time it works? Like picture this, the kid is obsessed with space. Has to deal with his mom and shit I guess, but it's to the point he's a fucking astronaut. How the fuck did Leo Malikov end up with a nerdy scientist? They don't even make that much money to be his dream sugar daddy!" Okay so she was ranting a little bit as they walked into the Apollo cabin glancing around some before flopping - gracefully - on his bed with a sigh. "He's also French so there is that whole thing." A wave of her hand as if that was the most offensive thing in the world. Lying back on the soft plush bed she stared up at the ceiling as Enzo explained his story trying to picture who this man was exactly. "Poseidon son?" She asked her mind clicking in place slowly. "As in the fisherman Poseidon son?" At this she sat up and stared at her other best friend. Leo may have been her platonic soulmate but Enzo was one of her best friends. It helped he had good taste for finer things in life and wasn't afraid to fuck her when they drank. The perfect gay bestie formula. "Oh honey please tell me he is at least good in bed because fuck I know for a fact that man has no money." That would explain the secondhand ring on Enzo's finger. "I mean you seem happy, happier than Ender ever made you, but like I know you always wanted to get married in the Duomo...you told me that when we went a few years ago, Enz. So why settle?" It wasn't judgement just her honestly trying to figure out not only what was so special about this Izyk but also why Enzo had the audacity to go and mature without her.

#[ enzo // skye ]

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siriusly-parker · 2 years ago

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—random lightning era headcanons, hp.

ʚ author’s note: these are MY personal headcanons. you don’t have to like them, but maybe you will. also- i KNOW mattheo and enzo are not even canon and that theo is hardly even mentioned but i thought it’d be cute to add them. mainly theo cause i love fanon theo (sometimes). ꜝꜞ

ron is super mega tall, taller than the twins. maybe even taller than bill.

harry is of average height but looks like a short king besides ron.

theo is basically a grumpy old man in the body of a teenage heartthrob.

blaise is just a sweetheart. fr the bestest friend.

draco can’t read in between the lines. he’s book smart but when it comes to people and social interactions he can be pretty stupid. you can’t just give him a hint, he won’t get it.

hermione actually really liked krum.

harry actually attended theo’s mother’s funeral. (they were on somewhat friendly terms after having to team up for an assignment.)

ginny likes girls. dean likes seamus. both knew.

draco, mattheo and enzo (along with crab and goyle) are more of the bullies of the group.

angelina and george are part of a tutoring program and tutor younger students. though he’s really good in potions, george only does it to spend time with her.

ron secretly tries to read muggle books to impress hermione.

mattheo is just plain rude with anger issues. he pretty much hates everyone.

theo is just more of an introvert so he doesn’t really feel the need to talk to everyone, let alone bully them.

blaise is not very smart but he really tries his best and studies a lot. he also reminds (or forces) the others to study as well.

in her firsts years at hogwarts, pansy was mostly a bitch and a bully (to impress malfoy), but blaise became a good influence and she learned to mind her own business a bit more.

ron had ALWAYS had a crush on hermione. he just didn’t want to.

neville had a secret girlfriend around year 3-4 and they’d always meet in the herbology greenhouse.

oliver suffers from insomnia which sometimes leads to him being rude during morning practices and even having anger outbursts towards his last hogwarts years.

fred is really really good with kids while george just doesn’t really know what to do with them.

cedric has dyslexia and really finds it difficult and discouraging to read and study. cho and harry are one of the few who know and help him with homework.

luna randomly takes walks in the forbidden forest. she finds it peaceful.

mattheo is naturally really smart. he never studies and always gets good grades. he’s kind of a dick about it.

seamus has ADHD and had a mild ODD as a child

cho is extremely interested in politics and even founded a secret debate club at hogwarts.

dean is the only one who knows about seamus’ breakdowns and the only one who truly knows how to help him.

angelina is really popular. there is nothing to hate about her. she is beautiful and kind and especially good at quidditch.

krum was really bummed out to leave hogwarts. he was actually liking it there. mainly the people. mainly hermione. just hermione tbh.

spending summer ‘94 with hermione was ginny’s gay awakening confirmation.

▾

꩜ i siriusly love you <3

꩜ hp tags: @ateliefloresdaprimavera @marvelismylifffe @hi-there-x @koreandrama-crazyyyy @df841 @hanniejji @streetghostfighter07 @agustdpeach @littlebrownngirl @emcchi @siriuslysirius1107 @wwhitewwolff @underthelee @florenceivy @guidetothesuperlame @littlebirdgot @koreandrama-crazyyyy @rororo06 plz tell me if you’d like to be added or removed!! you can ask for a specific fandom or character or my whole blog <333

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julianalvarez9 · 2 years ago

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miscommunication, pt. 1 / christian pulisic

masterlist

pairing: christian pulisic x argentinian!reader x platonic!enzo fernandez

summary: christian and you had a special connection. some could say, relationship. what happens when enzo arrives to the club, and starts taking your focus out of him.

word count: 1k

author's note: this was something that came to me after the rumours that circulated that enzo was going to join chelsea. it's purely self indulgent so excuse me aksjakjs but i just wanted to share it! i planned it as a 3 part fic (? so tell me if you want the other 3 parts too aksjakjska tysm!

warnings: asshole christian, asshole mason too (i don't think i need to clarify this but it's all part of the fic, i don't believe they're like this)

it seemed like everything was going awful for christian suddenly.

but what pissed him off, even more than being benched for not having his mind completely focused on the team, or his car breaking down out of nowhere, or the weather being way too cold again, was losing his best friend.

he didn’t even know how it happened. you used to wait for him in your car, so you could enter at cobham together, both with your coffees at hand. you used to discuss the previous day, how had you finish the day, and how had you woken up that morning. if you had a crazy dream like you were used to tell christian, or how many times had he woken up to go to the bathroom after the many liters of water he drank through the day. he asked himself what he had done wrong, why he couldn’t accompany you until you reached your office, with your coffees now gone cold and dumped, and the promise of you joining the training later to take some more pics for the team’s social.

and then he remembered. because, how could he not?

enzo fernandez had arrived to the training grounds one cold, clear morning. and that was enough to erase christian’s entire existence out of your mind. or so he thought.

he should have considered that you had been living in england since 2019, but argentina was still part of you, even if you had spent the last three years away from home. so, it was natural that you gravitated towards your compatriot, being the silver lining that reminded you were still tied to your country. his presence in the team had given you the chance to speak your mother tongue again (even if you did already, thanks to other fellow spanish-speakers), eat the country’s typical food and most importantly, drink mate again.

and christian, for sure, could have seen and appreciated all of this, if he wasn't so blinded by annoyance. hate. jealousy. even though he would never accept the last one.

"you're looking extra grumpy today, christian, was your coffee cold this morning?" mason joked to the american player right after showering post-training. he wasn’t completely dressed up yet, missing a shirt, but he was preparing to leave as soon as possible. if he could avoid seeing you again, at least for today, he would. christian responded simply, without giving much thought at whatever his teammates were insinuating. “na, it was alright mate”. kai, not one of many words but one that enjoyed the banter, decided to join mason in the teasing. “i think he’s missing his companion while drinking said coffee, mase”.

at the indirect mention of you, he clenched his jaw. still, he opted to remain quiet, deciding to pick this fight another day. one where he wasn’t so pissed off at the whole situation. after all, he thought that this wasn’t going to last much more. christian had the idea that this was a fleeting thing, a misjudgment, and he would come back to his senses soon. he hadn’t accepted yet that his feelings towards you were way stronger than he anticipated.

everyone knew, except him. and everyone knew that, with christian, they shouldn’t take the joke too far. except mason.

“too caught up with the new kid to focus on you, chris? must suck”.

the american player tightened his fist enough to turn it white, but no one saw the physical signs of anger that he was displaying. still, it could be heard in his voice. “that’s none of my business. shouldn't be yours either”, christian muttered.

“wouldn’t be our business if we had our boy back” ben pointed out, and it was what pushed him over the edge. christian knew he wasn’t playing as he used to. hell, that’s why he was on the bench nearly every game now. but he didn’t need his mates to touch the subject: he was already aware, being the first one to be rough on himself, even more than the rest of the team ever could. clearly angry now, he stated, almost screaming “so what, i’ve been underperforming. what has that got to do with y/n and enzo?”.

"you think that we don't realize you're jealous of him?” mason strode over to his friend, going so close christian could feel the anger radiating out of him if he concentrated enough. they weren’t mad about his fellow teammate 'underperforming', as he called it. they were worried that christian couldn’t see the real problem behind his attitude: he had brought it on himself for not telling you what he had meant to do all along. but he hadn’t figured it out yet. “it was you who used to be joined at her hip, and now that he has taken your place, you’re jealous" the british continued. “do something about it”.

pulisic took a step forward, noses touching, while muttering through gritted teeth, "shut the fuck up. you know nothing”. taking a step back now, aware that he should probably go home and wind down in the solitude of his home before he did something he regretted. “me and her were friends. still are. i don’t know why i’m explaining you all this shit".

"why so mad then? you know why, that's why you're reacting this way".

christian was about to snap at mason again, until the door opened up, showing a sight he hated to see: enzo and you laughing together at something he was showing you on his phone. the whole room turned quiet, and the rapidly growing tension reached your bubble, since you lifted your eyes to be greeted with a rare sight: mason and christian about to bite each others neck, and ben and kai trying to deescalate the situation that had, at a simple glance, gone out of control way too fast.

“what happened here?” was all you could say. enzo hadn’t quite catched upon what you had perceived, so once you elbowed and reprimanded him for continuing to giggle at whatever media was still ongoing on his phone, he questioned the guys too, eyebrows raised in question. “you should ask your boyfriend here” said mason, staring down at christian. without saying another word, not even waiting to hear what his american friend had to say, he picked his stuff, ready to go home after the training journey had ended.

next part

#reupload cause this wasn't reaching anyone:/#hope it gets into the tags this time #football x y/n #football x reader #football imagine #football x you #football blurb #christian pulisic x you #christian pulisic x reader #christian pulisic imagine #christian pulisic x y/n

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crossedsabers10s · 2 years ago

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Listen, listen, I need someone to tell me that starting another project would be a Bad Idea™️

Okay, on that note. I had an Idea! It’s taken over my brain!

What if dimension shenanigans with some old research of Kol’s that their poking around in/trying to use to defeat the next Big Bad and the Mystic Falls Gang of Supernatural Misfits—exact lineup yet to be determined, but definitely includes Stefan, Elena, Bonnie, Enzo, Jeremy, and Damon with Klaus and Elijah also there—ends up in a very sideways world where vampires aren’t a thing?? But like. Not a normal human!AU.

So. So. Like. They end up in Mikaelson Manor in Mystic Falls. Uh, Mystic Falls but three steps to the left and upside down, dimensionally speaking. And while they’re arguing about what the heck just happened, Klaus walks in. Except. Klaus is also standing right there arguing with his brother.

And that Klaus isn’t a hybrid. ‘Cause vampires don’t exist. But! He is a thousand year old alpha werewolf. Because all of his other siblings are ancient, super powerful witches/warlocks who are functionally immortal because their mother made them so. And he is too—despite the lack of personal magic—because they sort of shared their own immortal life force with him. Kind of like Freya’s sleeping beauty curse thing plus daggering but not really. They all take turns—by the decade—asleep and basically in a death like state and letting him ‘borrow’ their life force. Like. One decade Elijah is asleep and then it’s Kol and Rebekah and Finn and so on in a loop. And, they’ve got a handle on the werewolf curse, so he’s like. Basically hybrid like—can control his transformation and is super strong even without the full moon. Moon rings or a ritual they invented or whatever.

Anyways. Klaus takes in all these semi-familiar strangers and immediately blames Kol. It’s his workshop/ritual room they’d walked out of after all and Kol has no rational, sane limits when it comes to poking at interesting magic. At all. Ever. Him somehow breaking the dimensional barrier between worlds is par for course. So they get some basic information/threats/posturing out of the way. Then he tells them that Kol can probably reverse engineer whatever it was they messed with and send them back. But Kol is also in Norway or smth and will be out of contact while he is tracking down some rare magical being/creature. So itll take a few days to send them back. And! Until then, all these weird, semi-undead people can’t just… walk around the town or whatever while wearing the faces—some the wrong age—of some of the locals.

There’s also a cameo of an older-looking Rebekah, who resembles Esther slightly more than then teenage-appearing one. She’s complaining about Finn and Sage or smth.

Oh! And Finn is a necromancer, complete with like. A half rotted face from magical build up/side effects, Hel-style. Sage is—ok but. Like. I’m torn. I think Sage being Finn’s dead wife brought back at the cost of [the face thing, him being unable to use any other kind of magic or else she disappears, some other cost] would be cool but my heart says dragon. Some kind of dragon. She would make a fantastic dragon who had taken human-shape or was cursed into it and had taken a liking to the grumpy necromancer.

Kol is a Jack of all trades kind of magic user but specializes in arcane/esoteric rituals. Elijah is a more standard kind of witch, but is especially good at binding magics. Like. Deals.

So local!Klaus pawns them off to his friend/frenemy/drinking buddy, Stefan Salvatore. Who happens to have a mostly empty boarding house, isn’t it nice how things work out.

So they end up at the Boarding House. At some ungodly time in the morning, Stefan Salvatore—who is in his mid twenties, which is very odd for everyone who is used to eternally seventeen Stefan to see—opening the door. And he’s a witch too!! (Witch? Warlock? Idk he can use magic.)

And so the vampires need to be invited in lmao, after at least one of them does not account for this not being their boarding house and breaks their nose walking into the invisible threshold barrier.

And while everyone is getting settled—older Stefan getting a rundown on vampires—someone else walks in!!

It’s a teenage version of Enzo, back from like an early morning jog or smth. Because he’s a morning person for some reason.

Who takes one look at what’s going on and goes wtf. And he is very different from canon!Enzo. Younger—around 19–and with an attitude. I am firmly of the belief that teenage Enzo had anger issues. And it comes out that bby Enzo lives there and knows about magic and whatnot. Or at least has a very nonchalant reaction to the idea of dimension hopping semi/undead beings that are alternate versions of himself and people he knows.

And older!Stefan says something along the lines of ‘well, he followed my brother home and I haven’t managed to get rid of him yet’.

Which, of course is cue for other!Damon to stumble downstairs, yawning hard enough to crack something and wearing pajama bottoms. When he spots the crowd of people in his house staring at him—cause he’s A. shirtless and they can see scars on his skin, more than a few curled around his sides from his back and B. Is seventeen—he says ‘oh we have guests?’ Then spots older him, who is outwardly unbothered but deeply uncomfortable with everyone else seeing what he thinks of himself being weak/vulnerable because this is a version of Damon before he perfected being an asshole, though some of it is definitely ingrained.

Younger!Damon, who is like. Sleep deprived in the extreme goes back upstairs to change before coming back down and heading straight for the coffee. Which he doesn’t even manage to drink because his head basically hits the table before it’s cool enough to take a sip. Someone asks if he’s hungover—because he’s Damon and therefore that’s their first thought—but he says no? I was doing homework. And Caroline, who does have any sympathy for any Damon’s whatsoever says it’d be easier if he didn’t wait until the last minute to do it. And older Stefan—mildly, but in a way that makes it clear he doesn’t appreciate someone coming into his house and verbally jabbing at his younger brother—asks how much homework he did. And Damon says ‘all of it? duh. for the rest of the semester.’ (While this is going down, Enzo has stolen Damon’s coffee, dumped enough sugar in it to make a colony of ants die happy, and is drinking it while staring at his older self with the air of a person who is vaguely annoyed.)

Okay so. Background. AU!Stefan and Damon came from a long line of magic users. Like their father was super traditional and an absolute bastard about it too. Anyways, Stefan was the perfect older son who used strong traditional magic—and who also later had an Expression phase and gave up on using magic at all in effort to not give in to it again; to mirror his Ripper issues—and Damon was like okay at traditional magic but wasn’t the best at it. In this sense, traditional magic means like the ancestor stuff. The weight of a legacy. Yeah, no. Damon’s better at drawing from other sources, more elemental which is wilder and less structured with a reputation in the witch community for being destructive.

Annnnyways. Their father packs Damon off to a magic boarding school—no, not Hogwarts—except! It’s basically. Like. Off-brand Augustine. Instead of studying vampires, they’re studying magic. Taking magical children and training them all the while running tests. They were trying to make basically magic using witch hunters, to have a super strong police force under the schools thumb. It’s a horrible place where students regularly die or disappear during ‘training.’

And that’s how he meets Enzo! They were roommates. And Damon is considered unlucky, because all of Enzo’s roommates tend to die. Horribly. He’s also considered unlucky because Enzo—instead of being a run of the mill witch—is a siphon. He’s one of the schools favorite lab rats pupils, because he’s a rare find and he’s basically isolated and shunned by all the other students who are having a tough time surviving without the witch community’s worst nightmare stealing their magic from them.

Anyways after a boatload of trauma, Enzo and Damon end up semi codependent best friends with a magical bond. Literally. A magical bond. Something got tangled up from Enzo borrowing Damon’s magic too many times and now they basically share. Enzo doesn’t need to be touching him to access it, though that does help, and they both have an uncanny ability to know where the other is and don’t necessarily need to be looking at each other to know what the other is thinking.

Okay, so Stefan’s father told him that hed sent Damon off to school to help him learn blah blah family name blah whatever. This is around when Stefan discovers expression. And goes downhill from there. It takes him a long time—too long, he’ll think later, staring at the spellbooks he doesn’t use anymore but can’t bring himself to throw away just in case—to notice that something is definitely wrong with the letters he’s getting from his brother. He stops eventually, but by then has accidentally killed his father in a fit of rage when he finds out where his brother is and what’s being done to him.

Timeskip a bit and Stefan gets roped into Mikaelson Drama and after that gets them to help in investigate the School. What they find pisses them all off, because they’re old and strong and are considered magical royalty almost, when people aren’t terrified of them. And this is very much something they want to put an end too.

So the Calvary comes riding in, ready to rain destruction down and they find the School already on fire. Damon and Enzo having basically started a riot/jailbreak/revolution.

And that’s how Enzo came to live with the Salvatores. And why he’s an angry traumatized teenager with an aversion to touch and no compunctions about using violence. He was a street kid and then basically raised in/locked up in a dog eat dog world where if you weren’t on the top of the pile, you were one of the bodies being climbed over.

Enzo is also. Very. Scarily good at fire spells. Damon favors ice but is actually really good at inducing bad luck.

Stefan, when he used magic, was good at telekinesis and mind stuff. Like Silas.

(Not immediately relevant but—AU!Elena is a really old, really powerful psychic a la Amara and Silas, who is a spirit strong enough to sometimes walk the mortal plane. Bonnie is the same. Caroline is a—dryad? Nymph? Ancient and used to be worshipped as a goddess.)

Okay I’m done.

For now.

#tvd #fanfic #fic ideas #my stuff

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