Untitled

[luvvlanadr]

See you later, nerd

Part 1 drama student reader! x jock Theodore nott

The auditorium was empty except for you and the script clutched in your hands. The whole castle was at dinner, but you’d stayed behind to rehearse your monologue, just you, the stage lights, and the faint echo of your own voice bouncing against the rafters.

You were mid-line, fully immersed, when a low thud broke your concentration.

You froze.

Another thud. Louder this time. Followed by a muttered curse.

Peering over the edge of the stage, you spotted him: tall, broad-shouldered, and crouched over a Quidditch bag that looked like it had been thrown haphazardly into the aisle. He hadn’t seen you yet.

“The auditorium’s not exactly the locker room,” you called, voice carrying through the empty hall.

The boy’s head snapped up. Tousled dark hair. Piercing eyes. He squinted against the stage lights at you, frown etched on his face.

“Didn’t realize there was a one-person show going on,” he replied, tone dry.

You bristled, clutching your script. “It’s called rehearsal. And you’re interrupting.”

“Relax, Drama Queen. I’m just cutting through. Lost a bet, had to sprint across the castle. Didn’t know you’d be…” he gestured lazily at the stage, “…doing whatever this is.”

Your jaw dropped. “Whatever this is? This happens to be the lead monologue of Romeo and Juliet.”

He smirked. “Figured.”

You opened your mouth, ready to fire back, when his bag tipped over and a broom rolled out, clattering on the floor. You stared. “You’re a Quidditch player?”

“Observant,” he said, crouching to grab it. “Theodore Nott.”

Your eyebrows rose. The name you’d heard whispered in corridors. Slytherin’s star Chaser. Quidditch royalty. And apparently, infuriating.

“Well, Theodore Nott,” you said with an exaggerated flourish, “this theatre happens to be—”

He cut you off with a lazy grin, standing and tossing the broom over his shoulder. “Anyway… I’ll see you later, nerd.”

And just like that, he was gone, leaving you blinking, flustered, and completely aware that your heart had just skipped a beat.

[luvvlanadr]

Jock theodore nott!!

Jock Theodore Nott who

• Jock Theodore Nott! Who drifts through life like nothing could ever disturb him.

• Jock Theodore Nott! Who smirks with quiet sarcasm, as if everything everyone says is mildly amusing.

• Jock Theodore Nott! Who excels at Quidditch without ever seeming to try.

• Jock Theodore Nott! Who leans against walls, a cigarette dangling from his lips, looking like nothing could bother him.

• Jock Theodore Nott! Who teases subtly, so casually that it almost goes unnoticed, until it stings.

• Jock Theodore Nott! Who appears indifferent to everything, yet notices the smallest details about people.

• Jock Theodore Nott! Who lets life happen around him, never rushing, rarely panicking.

• Jock Theodore Nott! Who doesn’t show his emotions often, but when he does, it’s quiet, deliberate, and unforgettable.

• Jock Theodore Nott! Who teases subtly, the kind of sarcasm that stings without him raising his voice.

[luvvlanadr]

Drama student reader x jock theodore nott

Drama student reader who

• Drama student reader! Who feels emotions so deeply that even a casual moment can turn into a performance.

• Drama student reader! Who lives half in reality and half in daydreams, always imagining scenes and dialogue in her head.

• Drama student reader! Who shines on stage with confidence but secretly second-guesses herself when the spotlight’s off.

• Drama student reader! Who refuses to let anyone mock her passion, even if it makes her seem stubborn.

• Drama student reader! Who has a quick, witty humor that catches people off guard and leaves them smiling.

• Drama student reader! Who notices tiny details about people and remembers them like character notes.

• Drama student reader! Who overthinks conversations as if they’re scripts, wondering how she could’ve “performed” them better.

• Drama student reader! Who throws her whole heart into everything, even if it makes her exhausted or vulnerable.

[luvvlanadr]

Listen to the songggg

Let you down (again)

Theodore nott x reader

You stormed out of the common room, your heart hammering in your chest. Theodore’s words still echoed behind you, sharp as broken glass.

“Don’t walk away from me!” His voice was low, but there was an edge of desperation as he followed you into the empty courtyard.

You spun around, fire in your eyes. “What do you want me to do, Theo? Pretend you didn’t just push me away, again?”

His jaw clenched. The cool night air whipped around you both, but neither of you noticed.

“I’m trying to protect you,” he ground out. “You have no idea what it’s like; what I’ve done, what I could drag you into—”

“You think I care?” you cut him off, your voice breaking despite yourself. “You think I’m here because you’re perfect? I’m here because I love you, Theo, and you won’t even let me.”

Something flickered in his eyes, raw and painful. He stepped closer, but his voice cracked. “You don’t get it. Everything I touch, I ruin. I can’t—Merlin, I can’t watch you get hurt because of me. It’ll destroy me.”

You swallowed hard, your hands trembling. “So what? You’d rather hurt me yourself before anyone else can? You’d rather push me away, break my heart now, just to feel safe?”

He exhaled like it physically hurt. “Yes,” he whispered. “Because I’d rather you hate me than stay and watch me fail you. I’d rather let you down now than when it really matters.”

Silence stretched between you, heavy with everything unsaid. Your chest ached, but you stepped toward him, refusing to back down.

Your chest felt hollow as you whispered, “Then you’ve already let me down.”

He flinched like you’d slapped him, but he didn’t stop you when you turned and walked away. He stood there long after you disappeared, the night air biting at his skin, his hands trembling with everything he wanted to say but couldn’t.

And when the courtyard was silent again, Theo dropped his face into his hands and broke. Because you were right. He’d already let you down, and he didn’t know if he’d ever forgive himself for it.

[luvvlanadr]

Guys feel free to send and comment requests! 💝

[luvvlanadr]

Muscle memory

Italian!Theodore nott x reader

You were standing by the counter in Theo’s family kitchen, carefully stirring a pot of simmering sauce, the rich aroma filling the room. The morning sun poured in through the tall windows, lighting up the gleaming marble floors and polished wooden cabinets.

Theo appeared behind you, quietly threading his way past as he reached for a glass on the other side of the kitchen. Without thinking — just muscle memory — his hand brushed gently against your waist, and before he slipped past, he pressed a soft, brief kiss to your bare shoulder.

You barely had time to register it before he was gone, moving on as if nothing had happened. The kiss wasn’t loud or dramatic, just a quiet, effortless touch — like it was as natural as breathing to him.

You turned your head slightly, catching a glimpse of him looking back with that faint, almost imperceptible smile that made your heart skip.

🫒🫒🫒🫒🫒🫒🫒🫒🫒🫒🫒🫒🫒🫒🫒🫒🫒

[luvvlanadr]

Lost in translation (Christmas edition 🎄)

Theodore nott x reader

Christmas Eve in Milan was colder than you’d expected, the kind of cold that seeped into your bones. Theo’s apartment smelled faintly of pine and cinnamon, the tiny tree in the corner strung with warm golden lights. He’d insisted on cooking, and you’d been banished to the couch with a glass of wine while he moved around the kitchen like he’d been born there; sleeves rolled up, voice humming low in Italian as he chopped herbs.

When he finally brought the food over — steaming bowls of pasta, fresh bread, and something rich and chocolatey for later — he set a plate in front of you with a flourish. “Mangia,” he said with a smirk.

“I don’t know what that means,” you admitted, already picking up your fork.

“It means eat. Obviously.” He sat across from you, leaning his cheek into his hand. “You should really learn. Otherwise…” He trailed off, eyes glinting.

“Otherwise what?”

“Otherwise I can say whatever I want, and you’ll never know if I’m insulting you or telling you I’m in love with you.”

You tried to glare, but he just laughed softly, shaking his head like you were amusing. Later, when the dishes were done and the wine had warmed you both, he pulled you toward the window to watch the snow.

He murmured something in Italian again, low and serious this time, his fingers brushing your jaw.

“What was that?” you asked, heart already beating faster.

“That…” He smirked again, leaning in until his lips barely grazed yours. “Was me taking advantage of the fact you don’t speak my language.”

You opened your mouth to argue, but he kissed you before you could, slow and deep, the kind of kiss that made you think maybe, just maybe, you didn’t want to understand the words.

🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄

[luvvlanadr]

Invisible ink

Tom riddle x reader

You flipped open your notebook during class, ready to copy down the next spell. That’s when you noticed it — tiny, precise handwriting curling between your messy scrawl, in ink that wasn’t yours.

At first, you thought you were imagining things. But the more pages you turned, the more spells appeared. Ones you didn’t recognize. Protective wards, subtle hexes, even charms to shield against dark magic.

You frowned, trying to remember if you’d ever written them. But no — these were definitely not yours.

Later, when you confronted Tom, he didn’t deny it. Instead, he smirked quietly.

“You can’t always see the magic that keeps you safe,” he said softly, leaning close so only you could hear. “Sometimes, protection is better left unnoticed.”

You wanted to be annoyed. You wanted to tell him it was intrusive, to demand why he didn’t just tell you. But beneath the irritation, a strange comfort settled.

Because even if he never said the words, every spell was a silent promise: I’m watching. I’m guarding. And I won’t let anything hurt you.

🖋️🖋️🖋️🖋️🖋️🖋️🖋️🖋️🖋️🖋️🖋️🖋️🖋️🖋️🖋️🖋️🖋️

[luvvlanadr]

“Nothing more”

Mattheo Riddle x Reader

Little friends with benefits

————————————————————————

Everyone warned you about him. And maybe that’s why you said yes the first time.

It started in a hallway — late, quiet, just the two of you. He smirked like he already knew what you were going to say before you said it.

“You look like you need a distraction,” Mattheo murmured, voice low, dangerous. You raised an eyebrow. “And you’re offering?”

He shrugged. “No feelings. Just fun.”

That was the deal.

—

Now it’s stolen nights and hidden bruises. He knocks on your dorm door with blood on his knuckles and mischief in his eyes.

And you always let him in.

You tell yourselves it doesn’t matter. You don’t ask questions. He doesn’t stay the night.

And you don’t look at him for too long when he’s sleeping.

But sometimes… Sometimes he looks at you like he wants to mean it.

—

“You ever think about stopping?” you ask once, lying beside him in an abandoned classroom.

He lights a cigarette. “Why would we stop something that feels this good?”

You try to laugh, but it catches in your throat.

You wish he’d lie. You wish you could.

—

There’s a girl in the hallway who flirts with him. You pretend not to notice. He pretends you’re not watching. That night, he’s rougher. You let him be.

Neither of you talks about why.

Eventually, someone asks if you two are a thing.

“No,” you say, too quickly. “Just friends,” he says with a smirk. But when he walks past you in the corridor, his hand brushes yours like a secret. And it burns.

Because the truth is: You were never just his friend. And he was never just a distraction. You’re both just too stubborn to admit it.

So you keep pretending. Keep burning. And keep letting him in.

Every time he whispers “nothing more,” you hold your breath…

…hoping one day, it’ll be a lie.

————————————————————————

[luvvlanadr]

“The devil’s dove”

Tom Riddle x Reader

Tom being psychologically obsessed

————————————————————————

You didn’t remember when it started — the way the world began to shift around Tom Riddle.

One day you were yourself. The next day you were his.

He never needed to touch you to own you.

He did it with silence. With perfectly timed glances. With praise that felt like sunlight — warm, but blinding.

“You have such a quiet mind,” he told you once, after watching you during a study group. “So rare. So clean.”

Clean.

Like something to be kept.

It was always subtle. A missing book here. A whispered rumour there. People who once smiled at you no longer made eye contact.

He remained close. Protective. Possessive. Too polite to be alarming, too magnetic to be resisted.

And whenever you doubted yourself, he would tilt his head and ask,

“Are you sure it happened that way?”

You stopped asking questions.

He said it was because you were “growing.”

You said nothing.

But deep down, something in you screamed:

I’m not growing. I’m vanishing.

They started calling you “his dove.”

His quiet one.

The gentle shadow beside him. To beautiful to be real, too still to be alive.

And when you looked in the mirror, you understood why. The girl who looked back at you had his fingerprints etched into her soul.

—

One evening, in the Slytherin common room, he came up behind you, placed a hand on your shoulder, and said,

“Wouldn’t it be easier to just let go?”

“Of what?” you whispered.

“Of doubt,” he said. “Of fear. Of pretending you ever belonged anywhere but here, with me.”

And for a breathless moment… you believed him. Because devils don’t always use fire. Sometimes they use love.

But doves — even broken ones — can remember how to fly.

And somewhere deep inside you, a tiny voice whispered:

What he calls love is a cage. And you were never his to keep.

————————————————————————

[luvvlanadr]

“Daisy fresh girl”

Tom Riddle x Reader | Dark Romance | Hogwarts Era

————————————————————————

You remembered the first time you saw him—Tom Riddle.

Polished shoes, pristine robes, a voice smooth as dark honey. Everyone said he was brilliant. You had no reason to doubt them.

You were a daisy fresh girl, as your grandmother would say.

Sweet. Unscarred. Trusting.

Tom noticed that immediately.

“You’re different,” he said one evening in the library, fingers brushing the spine of a worn book. “Innocent.”

You smiled. You thought it was a compliment.

Days turned into weeks. He walked you to class, quoted poetry he claimed was Muggle (though he always looked disgusted saying so), and made you feel seen in ways no one else had. He never touched you unnecessarily. That restraint made it worse—more magnetic. He always seemed to be holding back, like he could devour you if he wanted. Maybe he already had.

It started small. A secret.

“Don’t tell anyone I was in the Restricted Section.”

Then a favor.

“Can you distract Professor Slughorn for a moment?”

And then something darker.

“Do you trust me?” he whispered, eyes glinting red for the briefest moment. You wanted to run. Instead, you nodded.

You don’t remember exactly when it changed—when you started lying for him, sneaking around, reading things no student should read. But the mirror told the truth.

You didn’t look daisy fresh anymore.

Your eyes were tired. Your hands trembled when they weren’t holding your wand. And your heart—your heart ached with a coldness he’d buried there.

One night, in the empty corridor outside the Slytherin common room, you finally said it:

“I was a daisy fresh girl, Tom. Look what you’ve done to me.”

He didn’t blink. Didn’t flinch.

Instead, he stepped closer, voice low and sharp like a blade.

“You were weak,” he said. “Now, you’re magnificent.”

And you didn’t know what was worse—what he turned you into… or how much you liked it.

————————————————————————