Boxer!Mathheo whose got a hugee size kink and swears he can make it fit, after all he's not a quitter so why would his Gf be? (NSFW CONTENT MDNI!)
Mattheo is constantly in the ring which means heâs always gaining or shedding weight in accordance to his next opponent. Bulking for heavyweights. Cutting for speed. Living in a body that is never quite still, always adjusting
He never realizes just how big he truly is or how freakishly little you were in comparison.
That is not until he's struggling to get halfway inside youâveiny fingers gripping your thighs as he folds you into a mean mating pressâand you're gasping, shaking, and trying not to cry again as you do your best to take all of him.
âMatty, Iâitâs too big i cant.â you whine, making his heart melt.
âI know love, I know, almost there.â he reassures, kissing your cheek.
He's dazed, eyes glossy as he watches your body stretch around him. "Look at you princessâJust takin' it like a fuckin' champ, aren't you?"
Your reduced to a moaning mess, arms winding around his broad shoulders, trying to pull him closer despite the delicious but burning stretch.
he always apologizes for it always showers you in love, whispering sweet little words of encouragement, 'You're doing so good doll kno' its a big stretch,' or 'That's my strong girl.'
Though he never really stops. not when you're gripping him like you were made for each other not when your practically gushing around his length, even if you can barely take it.
you feel everything down to the vein he's impossibly deepâ cock dragging against every tender spot, until your back is arching off the bed and nails are clawing at his back for purchase.
"Fuck," he moans, voice cracking. "i swear.... I'm tryna go slow, really I amâjus' the way your sucking me in you feel too good."
his hips roll again, deeper this time. you whimper into his chest, and he feels itâthe way your body tenses, the warm wetness gliding down his skin. then he pulls back, enough to get a good look at you andâ.
There, he see's the watery unshed tears brimming your lust blown eyes, his brows lift. And you see the shock on his faceâ then the way he softens.
his palm slides to your cheek and pace slows almost to a stop "You cryin' baby? need me to stop pretty girl?"
you shake your head weakly. your voice is a mess when it comes out. "DâDont you're just so deep, Theo feels too good."
something in him shifts maybe its his ego expanding or his heart on the verge of exploding.
But those words? coming from his favorite girl? it was too much. Any remnants of composure your sweet boyfriend had disappeared with that sentence
another thrustâdeeper. his hands grip tighter, lifting you higher, hitting that spot and making you see stars. âMattheo, fuck!â
you cry out. his hand slips under your back, holding you close as he groans against your throat. "can't help it," he pants
Of course not cause HOW is he expected to keep it together after hearing that???
More Boxer!Mattheo
Omg I missed writing for this character badd send me so Boxer!Au requests!
Your friends were evil. They knew you were absolutely terrified of Mattheo Riddle, Hogwarts hot headed Slytherin. Yet when truth or dare came around last night - they dared you to ask out Riddle.
You would have refused completely over and over again had you not run out of refusing dares. If only you had accepted any of the first three you refused because you were sure you were going to die when you approached the boy.
You stared at the boy in class, merlin he was going to kill you - torture you even if he found out it was a dare. Or if you kept looking at him, he would surely turn around and curse you. His eyes found yours as you didn't turn away in time, you felt your face heat up at the embarrassment of being caught staring.
He tilted his head a little to the side, his eyes not leaving your frame even as you tried to look anywhere but him. You started gathering your belongings and stuffed them into your bag, rushing out as soon as the class ended.
You took off once you heard him heading your way, you hated your friends so much right now.
That was not the first time your eyes found him, it seemed now that he occupied your mind - he was everywhere. It was starting to make the anxiety of asking him out even worse.
He noticed every single time too.
That alone scared you, Mattheo Riddle taking notice of someone was never good. You were lucky he hadn't beaten you up at this point, he was making it known in classes that he was getting annoyed with the constant watching.
Subconsciously, you watched him all the time. Consciously, you hated yourself for not being able to stop doing so.
Once he got ahold of you, you were dead.
Today was different, he hadn't been in class today. You were grateful for that fact, mostly so your eyes didn't get you in trouble. And you didn't have to book it when class ended.
.
.
.
Skipping to the next class, you smiled at the serenity of the birds singing. Your eyes closed for a moment to take a breath of fresh air, no fear of having being followed today allowed you to feel so at peace.
Until that peace was cut short.
"Why the fuck have you been staring at me so much?" An unfamiliar voice asked. Your eyes widened at the tone used, flinching a little as you turned around to come face to face with Mattheo Riddle.
Surely you looked like a deer in headlights - possibly even worse as you could feel your imaginary ears and tail tuck in fear. If you were an animal, you'd be a bunny caught by a fox. At least, that is how it felt at the moment.
"I just-,"
"You just what?" He crossed his arms over his chest, raising his brows. "I haven't got all day, ya know? Spit it out."
You caught sight of your friends watching out of the corner of your eye, they were smirking and giggling at the interaction. If you knew any better, they told him how exactly to catch you off guard.
Your eyes went back to his, smiling awkwardly. Might as well get this over with.
"I just wanted to ask you out on a date." You knew he would reject you and that made you feel a whole lot better about this whole situation.
He stuck out his bottom lip a little bit before clicking his tongue. "Alright, I'll pick you up this Saturday. We'll talk more tomorrow."
You stood there a little shocked as he stuffed his hands in his pockets and turned away.
"Just like that?"
"Mhmm, just like that." He nodded as he walked away.
Mattheo is late for his bedtime, and your cat is not happy about it.
an: this is so self-indulgent because this is my cat every night, in fact she did it while I was editing this and it cracked me up. wc: 550
"MattyâŚGonna come to bed soon?" You ask, peering around the door once again, having left bed for a quick trip to the bathroom.
His head lifts from the distracting reason for his absence. A really godamn good book. You're happy to see he's indulging his time so heavily into literature but it's late and you're missing him under the covers.
"I'll be there soon, promise." He smiles up at you reassuringly, before his gaze drops back down.
Time ticks by slowly and gently you drift off to sleep again, with only the soft purrs of Mabel to keep you company.
That is till she also grows needy of the lack of Mattheo.
Leaning back as if he had become one with the armchair, Mattheo's head stays buried in the engrossing novel. He doesn't notice the small felines soft patters of paws across the wooden panels, slowly approaching to sit in the open archway.
A small cry leaves her, so faint it tickles his eardrum like a ghost whispering.
The book lowers, and his eyes search for the victim â taking in Mabel's stern look, paws neatly pressed together, eyes wide and solemn staring back at him with a purpose. It's bedtime.
Mattheo smirks, amused. "I'm coming Mabel." Yet his eyes betray his words as they flicker back down to the descriptive words capturing him.
The burn of her unimpressed stare down, pricks at his neck, his eyes flickering back to her every few minutes, watching as her little paws stomp as she readjusts impatiently.
At the ten minute mark, Mabel meows again, a higher whine of protest.
He hums in acknowledgement, a kid trying to bargain with his mother extra time on a video game. "Last page promise." He mutters back to her trying to ignore the prickle burning behind her everlasting contact. Their eyes met again briefly as she moves closer, "promise..promiseâŚ"
Mabel shows no regard for his false assurance, planting herself right by her feet for the ultimate attention spot. Because how dare she be distributed from her slumber only to find a member of the family is missing from the warmth of their bed. Does he even know how much you miss him? All alone. With no cuddles? What kind of monster has he become.
She meows again, and then again âa long list of her complaints that has Mattheo guilt-ridden instantly.
"Alright, I'm coming." His hand reaches down to pet her in compromise, before he stretches with a yawn and begins the walk down the hall. "Coming?" he calls out for her softer nearing the bedroom, Mabel follows with a pep in her step still chirping.
She makes her way happily up onto the bed, her long ranting spew of meows growing louder in her satisfaction. She walks over your stomach, shifting you awake. You mumble a hello to her, reaching out for a pat as she plonks herself back into her rightful spot.
The bed dips, Mattheo crawling in to join the space too. You roll into him, whispering in the dark "Yay, you're here too."
A warm feeling sparks within him, smiling to himself he pulls you closer into his body. "Yeah, I was commanded â manipulated really." He jokes, enjoying how you snuggle further into him.
You laugh sleepily, "Good. We were missing you."
thank you for reading! Feel free to leave any love ἍᥠŠď¸puddlesoffrogs 2026
all characters written aged up 18+
tw: cheating implied. i don't condone it - don't come for me. i just love this particular character trope.
Theoâs got you propped up on top of Dracoâs trunk at the end of his bed; legs spread wide over the edge as he drops down between them so fast that you barely have a chance to register the movement.
Before you know it, his mouth is everywhere: open mouth kisses starting from your ankles and working their way up along your inner thighs, causing your breath to hitch. With lazy fingers, he tugs your panties across to the side so that he can drag his tongue in slow, taunting licks across your folds from bottom to top, before focusing on you clit with soft, fluttering flicks of the tip of his tongue that spell his name across the sensitive bundle of nerves that slowly morph into firm, rolling pressure that causes you to grind your hips against his face.
He groans into you like the sweetness of your taste is addictive and you moan in response, only fueling his want. His hands sliding around to the small of your back, Theo lets them drop down to grip your ass and pulls you closer toward him as he continues to suck hard and steady as you begin losing your balance and fall back hard against your boyfriends bed; pretty manicured nails clawing at the sheets you wish you were being fucked against instead.
âDoes Malfoy make you feel like this?â
You try your hardest to moan out a ânoâ and shake your head but both options fail miserably as your body trembles, eyes seeing white, cheeks flushing red. Theo pulls away just enough to suck on two of his fingers that he slides into you with ease, curling perfectly at that sweet spot inside your cunt youâd normally only feel Dracoâs cock brush up against, and without warning, you're soaking Theoâs chin as he laps up every single drop youâve got to offer with greed.
Doing your best to prop yourself up; face flushed, thighs boneless and trembling - you catch Theoâs gaze; cold and calculating, so blue that ocean waters would drown themselves in it and bite your lip as he shifts to stand, undoing his belt and zipper with a trained flick of the wrist - thick cock springing free as he lowers the band of his boxers; his own hand pumping it recklessly.
âIâm going to fuck you - and youâre going to enjoy it, understood?â
Mattheo being your tattoo artist, just drinking you in as you set yourself up on his table. Laying on your stomach with you shirt pushed up just under your chest as he works on your lower back.
You cannot tell me that he wouldnât speak to you in the smoothest voice ever, smirking when you begin to squirm, gripping your waist tighter and praising you through the whole thing.
perfect prefect virgin - theodore nott x virgin!reader
all characters written aged up 18+
tw: virgin sex, slut shamming just for story line, best friend sex
nb: written at work on my lunch break so... sorry if it's shit but at least it isn't ai. this is to compliment the recent theo work @my-hearts-kickdrum-type-beat wrote that you can read here.
Slut â by definition â is someone who is comfortable with the idea of promiscuity across a broad range of potential partners. That: you werenât. God; youâd never been fucked before. The âperfect prefect virginâ as so many of your classmates teased you about. One of those classmates: Daphne Greengrass, who on the other hand, definitely fit the earlier definition.
Daphne was the kind of girl who could smirk and have boys dropping at her feet. It seemed that anyone with an XY chromosome makeup who got within a few foot radius of her fell under her black magic type spell. This of course, included Theodore, your best friend. The aloof, far too attractive for his own good pureblood that youâd fawned over for years since awkwardly bumping into him on the Hogwarts Express one ride in and that youâd never had the courage to pursue further.
It was a shame really. Youâd day dreamed in far too many classes and touched yourself on far too many nights thinking about him and how it would feel crawling into his lap where you just knew, deep down, you should be â but alas, instead of you, Daphne was perched there as they sat in the common room late one Thursday evening, as she whispered god knows what into Theodoreâs ear and he let his hands stroke eagerly at her waist a little too easily for your stomach to try and digest.
âYou know, you could just tell him that you like himâ, Pansy pointed out, flipping a page of the magazine she was reading without looking up at you. Your eyes had been glued across to where Theodore and Daphne sat; both warm and cosy in front of the fireplace. Hell, if it werenât for the straggle of students still littering the dungeons you knew that theyâd probably be fucking.
âItâs not that easyâ, you reply, sighing as you shift to glance back at her; eyes evading the sight you simply couldnât look away from. Or at least, you hoped it wasnât obvious. To this, Pansy laughed. It wasnât a giggle, but not quite a cackle. Something in between which vibrated against your skin uncomfortably.
âSo then just send him an owl with a piece of parchment that says âdtfâ.â
âDTF?â, you replied.
âDown to fuck, baby girl.â
Your cheeks went red. âNo â absolutely not. Fuck, no, never ugh â I just couldnât.â
To this, Pansy merely shrugged and focused back on her magazine, âYour loss sweetheart.â
And so, you continued with the rest of your night, insanely jealous of the gorgeous blonde who had quite literally made herself comfortable on the object of your desire and wallowed in self-pity that you â the perfect prefect virgin â would more than likely at this rate; die with that honorific title.
That night, staring up at the ceiling of your dorm room was about as exciting was watching one of Trelawneyâs predictions come to life. The pillow beneath your head felt softer than it should have. The curtains around you bed drawn closed. Youâd suspected that a little masturbation might help clear your brain and send you into a deep lullaby state but before you could even drop your hand down between your thighs, Daphne-fucking-Greengrass came to mind and bang â night ruined.
âJust send him an owl with a piece of parchment that says âdtfâ.â
Pansyâs words replayed in your mind as you tried to convince yourself that she was just crazy.
âJust send him an owl with a piece of parchment that says âdtfâ.â
âŚmaybe an owl was excessive, but a text message? No. What a stupid thing to think. That was bad right? Texting your best friend at whatever god awful hour it was just three letters and expecting him to act like a functioning individual. Surely Theodore would just laugh at you. Itâd be pathetic, but most probably fucking humorous. Would he tell his mates? Would they laugh? Would they tell people? Would rumours be started? Would you be known as the witch who couldnât scratch her itch? Perhaps Colin Creevy would take a photo of you and send it to Rita Skeeter who would publish it as front page news. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck no⌠this was ridiculous.
Take a breath and calm the fuck down.
With your phone in your hand, you deliberated on the text to send â typing and erasing the words âcan we talkâ and eventually, giving in to Pansyâs suggestion and just sending âdtfâ. If anything, you could play it off as some cruel prank that Ms Parkinson had played on you and act naĂŻve.
The word âsendingâ appeared on your screen for far too long as you watched your wifi bars dwindle and strengthen. Eventually, the word disappeared entirely. Dropping your phone to your chest, you went back to staring up at the ceiling; not expecting a reply with how late it was, and yet to your surprise, less than a minute later, you felt a buzz against your breasts. Plucking the phone up â you glanced at the screen.
Teddy: Open the door.
Alright â pushy.
Swinging your legs off the bed, you waded past your curtains and with soft footsteps as to not wake up anyone else who was asleep, tip toed across the room to unlock the door. Behind it, resting against the door frame - Theodore huffing and puffing in plaid pyjama pants that hung far too low on his hips to be considered casual and no shirt on.. because honest, why would he?
ââŚyou okay?â, you asked a little concerned. He was breathing like heâd just run a marathon.
âYes.â The word came out faster than you could have imagined and god, did it sound like a dream as it was panted.
âAre you sure?â, you pushed.
Once again, he repeated himself. âYes.â
âIs this about the text?â
âYes.â
âAre you here to tease me?â
âNoâ, he changed up his answer; yet after a final ragged breath, he shook his head from side to side. âWell.. technically â yes.â
âTechnically?â
Theodore didnât hold back stepping in to capture you in a kiss that sent stumbling backwards. If it werenât for his hands cupping your face youâd have probably tripped or melted into a heap right there on the floor. What were you supposed to do with your hands? Touch him? Fuck â he was shirtless. Was this allowed? You didnât know. Well, you didnât need to â your hands found their way to his waist with the softest touch imaginable causing the muscles of his abs to flex slightly and boy with the groan that he made into your mouth you could have orgasmed right there and then.
Before you could make out anything else happening, your were being led backwards; thighs hitting the bedframe before Theodore whispered jump and you did so, catching you in his arms for just long enough to throw you back against your bed. Slipping past the curtains, the mattress dipped beneath his weight as he settled above you â caging you in; lips nipping at that sensitive spot on your neck you never knew you had as your back arched willingly.
âTheo--.â
You could barely get his whole name out as he settled between your thighs and rocked his hips against your own; your legs parting wider than youâd intended. Trailing a pepper of kisses across your skin and down your throat, he used his teeth to pop open the buttons of your pyjama top and took in your scent â that fruity strawberry perfume youâd brought on a whim once in Hogsmeade last year. Absolute perfection.
âCan I?â, the words he spoke sounded suspiciously like a beg. You nodded before you could whimper out a yes that sounded more like an âuh-huhâ and that was all it took for Theodore to curl his fingers around the hem of your pyjama shorts and panties, tugging them down your legs with a soft, smooth drag that you assisted with mercifully. Biting your lip, unsure of where this was going, you were mortified to watch him drop his head down and â
âOooh..â
One lick straight up your core between your folds that you hadnât noticed were dripping wet and you fell silent. Mouth falling into a perfect O-shape, your eyes widened, pupils exploding as he began to devour you slowly â surely â like a last meal he wanted to both savour and never forget. A finger finding its way into your mouth, you bit down on a knuckle harshly and suppressed a moan that you were sure would have woken the entire dorm. It would have worked had Theo not suddenly sucked at your clit which was far too over sensitive and not yet received any attention.
âOH MY GOD!â
Quick thinking on his behalf had a hand come up to cover your mouth as a string of lewd phrases and moans rambled against his palm. Your nails scraping at the bedsheets, your fingers werenât sure where to go but hearing Theodore pop off your clit with a delicious smack and half push up to gaze at you; your hands quickly froze.
âYou alright, principessa?â
It wasnât what Theodore asked, but how he said it before placing two fingers in his mouth to suck on and gently rub at your entrance that made your whole body quiver as your eyes rolled back. Nodding nervously, you bit your bottom lip and tried to take a deep breath â nervous, excited, squeamish.
âItâs okay â weâll take our time. I know your new to this. Fuck.. have I told you tonight that you look beautiful?â
You could feel your arousal drip out and coat your thighs, the bed; you were wet and so were his fingers, and chin, and ugh, those blue eyes of his looked oh so glossy and innocent as circled your entrance and slowly slid a finger in. You tensed. He stopped at the first knuckle. You didnât breathe. He talked you through it. Whimpering in pleasure, pain, pride, prudence your body accepted his fingers more and more. Knuckle by knuckle, inch by inch. First one. Then another.
âYouâre doing so well my girl, so well.â
His girl? Did he want you to faint at this rate? Gosh â having said that would have worked. I mean, hell â it did. You were already a mess. Metaphorically and figuratively. Trying not to lose yourself, you worked through the feeling of his fingers plunging in and out of you â the way he scissored them apart ever so gently; the way his thumb curled up to draw stars on your clit that matched the ones you were seeing in your eyes. His breath warm and inviting against your skin. This was so much better than touching yourself â so much better than daydreaming. Without realising it; you rocked your hips a few times shamelessly, trying to chase the feeling.
When Theo felt heâd worked you open enough; he removed his fingers â causing a murmur of disappointment to escape you as he crawled up the bed and asked a husky, âYou sure about this?â, to have you almost pleading with a high pitched âpleaseâ, as he fiddled with his waist band; pyjama pants shimmying down lower and down to his knees as his thick, hard, heavy cock sprung free, smacking his stomach with a glistening pre-cum bead. Oh the sound..
âIf itâs too much â tell me yeah?â
You couldnât respond. He was breathing whilst youâd forgotten how to. Sliding his cock between your folds; the mushroom head catching your clit that almost made you scream; Theo lined up at your entrance, ordered in a whisper for you to look at him and used the wetness of your cunt to slowly push in. he took his time, stretching you wide and suddenly, the earlier scissoring made sense.
âFuck.. Nott.. holy--.â
â--Salazar.â
The two of you stopped for a moment.
You let out a pant.
He swallowed a groan.
Another inch in.
You winced.
He had a hand on your hip.
Your nails clawed into his shoulders.
The both of you moaned.
Gritting your teeth; a hiss of air blew through them as he sunk in once more; filling you entirely to the hilt like nothing youâd ever felt before. Oh there was no way youâd go back to touching yourself after this. Pausing; Theodore shifted both hands to your thighs and held the outside of them firmly as he rocked in and out of you with soft, paced thrusts that were every inch as good as your dreams.
âJ-justâŚf-feel-feels go-good-good.â
Were you convincing yourself, or him? The praise made Theodore snap his hips into you but after an almost scream he hadnât expected that you let out, he put on the brakes. Calm and in control. Â Each thrust pacing.
âSo-fuck, so fucking tight.â
Now that was a given.
The apple of your cheeks flushed a hundred shades of red; your skin tingled, you bra felt too tight, your lips too dry, your body like a dream. Theodoreâs breath was hitched once again â just like it had been at your door, just like youâd imagined it so many nights before â you, you best friend..
âA.. a little more?â, you cooâd with an innocent voice, but he knew better; stalling.
âThis is just perfect, bella. Take it easy yeah; take it slow..â
âWould you be this slow with Daphne?â
What an idiot. Of course, you had to ask and potentially ruin the greatest fucking moment of your life; but you were surprised by his answer that came rather quick.
âWouldnât know.â Head lolling to one side, you felt your back arch again as his hands shifted from your thighs to your waist; firm and true. âSheâs not you â hell.. have I told you that youâre beautiful?â
You couldnât help but laugh as Theo repeated his earlier words; caught in a daze â abs tightening at the same time your own stomach did. Thighs shaking; you tried your best to hold out a little longer, but with how he worked your clit and the sensations and the trying to keep quiet and the barely there moans and the tenderness and the way he kissed your jaw and stroked your hair and whispered your name into the crook of your neck â resistance was futile.
A warm sensation washed across you from head to toe. You clenched; body tightening in a way you didnât know was possible as your hands knotted into his hair and pulled him up for a lip sealing kind of slow burn kiss. Theo pulled out; something hot and sticky painting your thighs, the sheets, his ego. You remembered how to breathe. He took each breath in as his own and fell off to bed beside you; an arm loosely trailing across your waist; watching you amorously.
âNext timeâŚâ, he caught his breath, ââŚdonât text so late.â
âYou know, youâre lucky you even got one.â
âPansy?â, Theo asked calmly.
âShe may have convinced me.. yeahâ, you replied; half turning towards him.
Out of the blue â or maybe, not so out of it; a know it all sounding, âYOUâRE WELCOME!â is yelled across the room that you both giggle to.
âSoâ, you breathe; heart racing, cheeks from red to magenta to pink.
âYeahâŚâ, Theo replies; chest rising and falling a little harder making him struggle to speak.
âWe should do that again sometime.â
âOh yeah.â
âYeah.â
"Sounds like a plan", he murmurs, curling against your side and nuzzling his face into your neck.
âOh and your lapâŚâ, you mutter, ââŚI think you should start reserving that spot just for me.â
One moment, he had the passing thought that you were pretty... really pretty; his eyes wandered over you in charms class and lingered appreciatively at the way your eyes twinkled as you listened, the way you twirled your finger in your hair and ran your pen against your bottom lip absentmindedly, his eyes tracing the penâs movement back and forth. Your friend whispered something to you and he watched you smile, warmly, sweetly.
And then your eyes met his.
And the next thing he knew you were beneath him in his bed for the next two weeks, exactly 15 more times than he'd every allowed himself. He didn't do repeat hookups, because he knew he had no intention of making them into anything more.
Because if anyone could describe Theodore Nott in one word it would be... unbothered.
He simply didn't give a shit and it was evident in the way he carried himself, the way he spoke, the way he lived; he had a devil-may-care attitude, permanently, completely unphased.
And he didn't give a shit, because he didn't need to; his hair flopped perfectly in his favor every morning, and that combined with his striking blue eyes, full lips and smirky mouth meant he had girls falling into his lap since he was 15. He slouched in his seat during lectures and seemed only partially to be paying attention but was somehow the top of your class. And he'd had the same group of friends since first year, like they'd arrived at the school together, so he never had to worry about impressing anyone.
All of which meant that he was laid back, even keel â what was there to worry about? His emotions didn't run high, he wasn't excitable, and they didn't run low, he rarely got angry or upset. In fact, he couldn't remember a time he really cared about anything enough to stir up those kinds of emotions. But the more time he spent with you, he started to feel... something... he just didn't know what the fuck it was.
You had cancelled plans with him last minute to go out with your friends, and he didn't care... but as the night went on without you, and you weren't by his side, sitting in his lap or reaching to tangle your delicate fingers with his he felt ... fidgety, antsy. His fingers toyed with the lid of his cigarette carton and he smoked a few more than usual. Then he lay in bed, alone, and felt... nauseous... from the nicotine, surely, but he couldn't fall asleep.
Then, he saw you talking to Diggory, you leaned into him and put your hand on his arm, squeezing as you laughed at something he'd said, your eyes squinting and your glossed lips shining in a smile and Theo didn't care... he wasn't threatened by Diggory in the slightest, he knew full well you'd be in his bed tonight, but his brow creased all the same and his eyes narrowed at the sight.
"You good?" Lorenzo asked him.
"Hmpf?" he replied, pulling out a cigarette.
"You look...angry" he said hesitantly.
He felt angry.
Why did he feel angry?
It felt like the last time they'd lost a quidditch match and he'd wanted to punch a hole in his locker. I want to fucking hit something he thought as his fist flexed, confused at what the hell that had to do with you.
And then you were together the next morning in his bed. His friends had all slept elsewhere, leaving the two of you alone in the dormitory which you'd made plenty use of, hardly getting any sleep. The window nearest his bed was ajar and it blew in a warm breeze that ruffled the curtains.
He was propped up on his elbow, and you were laying next to him, tucked into his side, looking up at him. You traced your forefinger along his jaw, across his lips and gazed, starry-eyed, like you couldn't imagine anything more beautiful than him, with bed head, a little bit hungover in the early morning light; and truthfully, you couldn't.
You smiled and he felt a warmth in his chest like fire, the heat of which spread to every inch of his body. His heart dipped like the first time he rode a broom, weightless, exhilarated, terrified and all he could think was how much he loved that feeling.
Loved.
Oh.
And then he understood.
Love was fidgeting fingers that itched for you in your absence, longing to feel your soft skin in sleepless nights; it was raging jealousy, and the drumbeat of something deep within him that saw you and said mine, only mine; love was hot and angry and fists that wanted to fly, but it was also soft, like spring breeze that ruffled emerald curtains, like the trace of your finger on his lips, like floating in the air for the first time, free, untethered, alive.
"Theo?" you whispered at the expression on his face as he looked at you intently, his head tilted.
He blinked down at you and then the corner of his mouth curved upward, and he smiled, big, wide, in a way you'd never once seen before, in a way he'd never felt before as his eyes danced over you.
And your heart exploded.
His attention made you laugh and squirm because he wasn't just looking at you, it was like he saw you for the first time, really saw you and he couldn't get enough.
He let out a breathy laugh.
And then he kissed you, like he hadn't spent the last 12 hours in bed with you doing exactly that. He kissed you like he'd never get the chance to do it again, grasping your face with both hands and pressing himself into you passionately, like he was desperately trying to tell you something he didn't have the words for.
He paused for only a moment, pulling back to let his ocean blue eyes wash over you before he pressed his lips fervently to yours again.
And the feeling of his smile against your own? Told you everything you needed to know.
Theo is observant. Painfully so. Especially with you. Heâs been carrying a reckless little crush on you for far too long, the kind he refuses to acknowledge out loud. Asking you out would require courage he hasnât quite unlocked yet, so instead, he watches. From across the room. When you sit acrosss him and you laugh with his friends. When youâre paired up for class or stuck collaborating on a uni project that suddenly feels very distracting. He always sees you.
And he happens to take notice of your mouth; itâs never stillânever bored. Always wrapped around something. Gum snapped slowly between your teeth. Dried fruit and nuts lingered on your tongue longer than necessary. The end of your pen caught between your lips when youâre thinking. Colorful little drinks drawn up through a straw, your lips sealing around it like itâs second nature.
Theo notices all of it. Tries very hard not to. Fails every single time. So when he teases you about it âyou always need that mouth filled with somethingâ while you sip on the third smoothie of the day he doesnât except your answer at the slightest âmaybe you could help me with thatâ
Thatâs how you ended up in his dorm, on your knees, Theoâs hand holding your hair firmly as he pushes you down his length, his head uncontrollably drops back once he feels the tip hit the back of your throat.
He canât help but groan at the image before himâyour pretty eyes glossed over with unshed tears looking up at him, drool sipping from the corners of your mouth while you gag around his dick, âthatâs my girlâ
You half moan half gag around him when he jerks forward, and he truly believes that you are pure perfection as you bob your head faster, looking up at him with those needy, hazy eyesâfuckâhe could come right there. He grunts and groans, pulling at your hair harshly every time your tongue caresses that spot, âoh fuck, thatâs it, amore, youâre doing so goodâ
He plans on keeping you like this, until that little oral fixation of yours is satisfied.
shall we pretty please get another theo teaching reader fic im invested đł
A/N: Another one?? Just joking, Iâm very happy people are liking them and it motivates me a lot when I see people asking for more because they loved the past stuff. Also decided to go smutty so enjoy :)
Theo knew that when you guys had your first time together it would have to be special. He wanted you to be able to enjoy and savour every bit. Make it an experience youâd never forget.
Recently he had started getting touchier. His caresses lingering longer, dipping down further to places he hadnât yet touched. Heâd stop immediately if you ever asked him to but you didnât.
Theo would look over at you and see the small flush in your cheeks and smirk when you got a little restless, unsure of what to do but definitely turned on.
It went on like that for a couple weeks, with Theo only getting more daring. It only fully escalated when you two were together in his dorm one night.
It was quiet. All of his dorm mates were out doing their own thing which left some time alone for you both. It started off innocently, as most times with him did.
Then you were wrapped in his arms, then light kisses were settling on your shoulder and neck, then you were making out, just like he had taught you.
Your legs straddled his as the kiss had you gasping for breath. You had gotten quite good at it since Theoâs lesson and he seemed to appreciate it, if the groans he let out told you anything.
It wasnât until you felt the firm grip on your waist start to rock you back and forth slowly did you hesitate.
He had felt it right away and pulled back, his hands going still on your waist.
âDo you want to try something new? Weâll go slow, just like last time. Iâll talk you through it all.â
His tone was gentle. One that told you if you didnât want this heâd be okay with it.
âI do want to try butâŚI donât know if Iâm ready for the full thing.â
Theoâs lips lifted in a soft smile. âThatâs alright. Thereâs still much more than can be learned before that. Now the real question is, fingers or tongue?â
Your eyes widened and your boyfriend couldnât help but chuckle at the look on your heated face.
âIâll surprise you amore. Lay down for me?â
He let you take a calming deep breath in before helping you off his lap. Moving to get up so you could take his spot. Your head rested on one of the pillows while he slipped another under your hips.
âWhatâs that for?â
âTrust me tesoro. Iâm going to make you feel so good.â His warm hands trailed from your waist down to the hem of your pants.
With a few more gentle words whispered in his smooth accent and the continuous touches of his hands, your pants and underwear were off, lying somewhere on the floor.
Heat was bubbling up in your gut and between your thighs as you awkwardly looked away, wishing for the first time that his gaze wasnât so piercing.
Just when you thought you were going to die from silence a deep vibration of Theoâs voice made your core drop in a way you hadnât felt before.
âMmm look at you tesoro. Fuck, just when I thought you couldnât get any more gorgeous. So pretty, arenât you? You gonna let me touch her?â
A shaky nod was your response.
âWords.â
âY-Yes please touch me, Theo.â
The unfamiliar words left you embarrassed but were completely forgotten about when you felt two of his fingers glide across your slick lips.
They were gentle at first, letting you get used to the sensation before he built a soft rhythm against your clit. Circling it in a way that made you crave more.
Hearing the soft and unsure moans slip from your mouth, his fingers sped up.
âGo on. I wanna hear you, donât cover your mouth amore.â
Theo relished in how fast you listened to him. You hand quickly moving from your mouth and back down to the bed where you gripped the sheets.
Your eyes felt glued to him as he pressed kisses into the heated warmth of your skin.
âAre you ready for more?â There was a twinkle in his eyes that made you feel ready for anything, that the praise in his eyes alone was enough to have you doing whatever he wanted.
You nodded only once before remembering to speak out loud.
âGood girl. Iâm just gonna ease my finger in- yeah just like that, sh sh sh Iâve got you.â
His fingers entered your slick hole carefully, making sure to stop and let you adjust when your whimpers had a touch more pain than pleasure.
âTheo please.â
âSuch a needy girl, you need more already?â Theo teased as if he didnât already have his next finger tracing your entrance.
âDeep breath in pretty girl.â
Your breath was cut short the second his second finger pushed its way it. A slight stinging sensation that quickly turned pleasurable when his fingers curled inside you.
âOh-ohhh. Thatâs good.â
âYeah? How about now?â Effortlessly, Theo had you a whining mess as his fingers moved in and out, still curling them as your moans got louder.
His smirk was growing wider by the second. Between your moans and the slick noise of his fingers going in and out, Theo hadnât even realized the grow bulge that was starting to make his pants uncomfortable.
But of course, wanting to be focused on the beautiful sight in front of him, he settled for rocking his hips against the mattress, groaning when the friction rubbed him perfectly.
A sudden gasp was ripped from you as you felt your boyfriendâs warm tongue start to lap at your clit. Your legs immediately closing before Theo pushed them back open.
âJust a small taste amore, please?â
You let your eyes wander the sight in front of you, the heat in between your legs only growing when they met his hips, grinding against the mattress for whatever please he could get.
âYes, yes please.â
His tongue was back on your clit in a matter of seconds, fingers still moving in perfect rhythm until he could feel you clenching. Knowing right away that you were about to cum.
âCome on, cum for me. Iâve got you amore, cum on my fingers and my tongue.â
His words had you unraveling in seconds. Back arching off the bed as your eyes rolled back and a moan of Theoâs name fell your lips.
It had you reeling in pleasure for a moment before you were finally able to catch your breath, only then feeling Theoâs fingers pull back, did you look down at him.
âThatâŚwas amazing.â
He chuckled softly as he kissed his way back up to your lips.
âIâm glad you think so amore.â
âI should really return the favour for that.â
Another laugh from him.
âNo need.â
Theoâs warm hand tilted your head down and your eyes widened when you saw the wet spot in between his legs, staining through his pants.
âOh.â A warm blush heated your cheeks again, staring at the spot even as Theo began to clean up.
You have a migraine, Blaise has a remedy. You're pretty sure he's a magician
warnings: reader suffers from migraines, established relationship, modern AU, Blaise being an attentive king agenda, hurt/comfort
an: starting off the new year by clearing my drafts out (also manifesting a year full of Blaise)
Blaise always prefaces every single occurrence by reminding you that he's no licensed professionalâjust a man with sheer will power, access to the internet and the patience of a saint.
You always tell him that you don't care as long as he works his magic and makes your damned migraines disappear like the magician he is.
The whole thing started about three or four years ago when you canceled yet another hangout because your migraine had gotten so horrifically back you threw up on your carpet and nearly choked on a mixture of vomit, snot and your own tears.
Yum.
Blaise was frankly speaking done with watching you 'tough' it out every time, especially when the pills didn't work and you couldn't get a wink of sleep. Not only did it affect your quality of lifeâit honestly hurt him to see you so pained but only be able to watch helplessly.
So, he got to work.
He spent an entire week researching migraines in detail. He combed through medical journals, articles, analysis, experiments, studies and just about every single thing he could find and that was fairly recent and accurate. Once he determined he has enough understanding to try and work on solutions, he fell down a rabbit hole of different ways to alleviate the pain.
Soon, he started coming over with different gadgets he grabbed from random storesâyou stopped asking him where he got them and when he had the time to buy them, you just accepted it as weird rich people behaviourâand a small notebook he called his scientific diary.
Each time he would document your migraines with unnerving detailsâdates, symptoms, pain scaling, the weather, stress levels and just about every factor that could be somewhat relevant. He would write down different solutions and remedies and note what worked, what didn't, what effects which methods had until he knew for sure what things he could ignore and which things may work and when.
Safe to say, the man was on a missionâand it only got worse from here.
A year and a half into his migraine hyperfixation craze, he became so fine tuned to your wellbeing he could actually predict your migraines before you even felt them. From just one glance, he could tell you'd be having one soon.
Two years later, he established a text code system with you so you could communicate with the least amount of effort while still yielding maximum efficiency.
Your code system was simple and pretty straightforwardâcolor codes that meant different things.
Blue -> feeling a little dizzy, there's some ringing in my ears and I might need to lay down soon
Green -> pretty okay, but there's pressure in my head that comes and goes
Orange -> starting to feel pretty bad, my vision is funny and I'm definitely dizzy
Red -> aura, the lights need to be turned off asap SOS
It took a lot of trial and error to get it right, but damn if it didn't pay off.
In moments like today for example, he truly appreciates the art of simple communication and knowing what to do.
His phone buzzed just a little past one p.m. with a single message from you.
Mine âĽď¸: c or/re sos
He anticipated it actually, the cold weather, the stress and the noise from fireworks going off all night long on new year's eve was bound to mess with your head. That's exactly why he makes it to your apartment in less than fifteen minutes, already prepared to lessen your burden.
Your apartment is shrouded in darknessâsomething he'd rather not disturbâso he opts to use his phone screen as a flashlight to navigate the space. Though honestly speaking, he could orient himself blindly in your apartment, he's been here often enough to know the layout by heart.
Your room is at the end of the hallway, the door slightly ajar with pained moans coming from it. He opens it gently, masking his presence to the best of his abilities.
Once he's by your bed, he lowers his bag and kneels next to you. "Hey, I'm here" his voice is soft and quiet, barely above a whisper. Reluctantly, he peels back your blanket and is met with muffled protest that immediately makes him wince.
"I know, I know I'm the worst Amore, you can be mad later," he murmurs, grabbing his bag and getting immediately to work.
He grabs the hot electric neck massager and places it under your neck, hoping it'll help the tension bleed out. He places a cooling gel sticker on your forehead in turn so that it may lower the mild fever you're running and alleviate some of the pain.
Next, he pulls out the weighted facial mask he got specifically for this momentâthe one that puts pressure on all the spots that ache and contribute to your pain.
The entire time, you can only writhe in pain but allow him to do his work while laying pliantly on the bed. It hurts him, yet the moment is strangely tenderâthe trust it takes for you to allow him to come into your home when you're so vulnerable and trust that he's here to make it better is immense.
Ten minutes later he's done setting all the things he's learnt help you when the migraines get really bad. He makes space for himself on your bed, gently massaging your cramping calves while you take shuddering breathes that slowly ease into something softer.
His touch is magic, providing both relief and comfort at the same time. Though the pain isn't gone, it at least doesn't get worse. In fact, it stabilises, enough for you to finally fall asleep.
Once he's sure you won't wake up, he manoeuvres himself to lay beneath you, his arms wrapped securely around you while you melt into his embrace. Even when you sleep, you recognise him and the sense of safety he provides.
It doesn't escape his notice that you seem significantly more relaxed once he's holding you.
His fingers run across your neck, gently massaging it while keeping a watchful eye over you. He knows that when you wake up, you'll still have a pesky headache, but for that he's got options already.
He may not be a licensed professional, but he is your boyfriend and very much dedicated to making your life easier. And if it means having remedies ready at all times for your migraines? Then he will happily provide you with relief.
This is amazing, luckily I donât actually get migraines but I just know Blaise would take such good care of his partner no matter what. I love him so much 𤧠You wrote him so well too <3
It was no secret that Mattheo had a reputation of breaking things â rules, broomsticks, noses, hearts; but oh, the way he ever so carefully hitched your skirt up around your waist and whispered, âtell me if it gets too muchâ while sinking his thick cock into your cunt suggested that he didnât want to break you. Well.. not yet.
Now he really should have picked a more secluded spot away from wandering eyes; but, tucked away in a library aisle somewhere between herbology resources about dittany and gillyweed, he carefully wrapped a hand around your jaw, forcing his thumb into your mouth to rest upon your tongue to keep you quiet. Every thrust was pure delight; tauntingly slow as his dropped zipper nipped the sensitive thing back of your thighs.
âMattheo.. fuck.. we-weâre gonna get caught.â
Your lazy groaned words did little more than spur him on as you braced yourself against the shelves and tried to glance back over your shoulder. Meeting eyes of dark desire, Mattheo thrust just once, hard inside â full hilt, and stayed there, free arm wrapping around your waist to keep you still.
âWe wonât if you stay quiet my sweet thing.â
Sweet thing. Unf! A pet name shouldnât have made you this wet. Warm slick coating the inner of your legs; he slipped the hand that was around your waist beneath your shirt and traced it up to grope at your breasts through your bra with a controlled moan which fanned across your cheek as he pulled out; causing you to whimper at the loss of contact and then slammed himself straight back in.
You were thrust forward hard enough you hit the shelf, causing a few books to fall and scatter. The both of you fell quiet â hoping the commotion of noise wasnât enough to be caught of heard. The possibility only heightened the experience. You could only be described as cock drunk and fucking horny.
âP-pleaseâŚâ, you begged softly. âM..more.â
Mattheo may have had a reputation for breaking things; but he also had a reputation for being a gentleman â and honestly, what kind of person would be not to oblige and fuck you senseless. Even if your actions slowly had eyes turning and watching.
i'm so sorry for the lack of posts! here's some mattheo as an apology xo love you all xo
Iâm literally going to explode. I just finished the Theo fic that was in my inbox and right as I did my wifi went out before I could save it and itâs literally gone. The first smut fic too đ¤§
omg duda, imagine theo finally meeting someone who can speak italian in hogwarts đđ the amount of inside jokes and niche references that him and reader would have from their fav media and music in their culture to things like playful flirting that only they understand!!
theodore nott x italian speaker!reader.
-> brief smut
since childhood, theodore had always yearned for someone who spoke his mother tongue, a dearly cherished inheritance passed down by his mother like a folk song, fragile and precious. however, in a world where people took pride in ignorance, or so theodore believed, it was nearly impossible to find someone who could match him linguistically. he often felt misread; theodore felt that no one truly knew his real personality, since he definitely wasnât as flippant and quick-witted when speaking english as he was in italian. then, when he met you, it was as if a part of him that had always lived in darkness was finally illuminated.
the first time he truly noticed you was when he was wandering through the castle, skipping classes, and consequently came across a nameless diary in the hogwarts courtyard, tossed aside and forgotten in a shadowy corner. hoping it belonged to someone from the golden trioâpotter, preferablyâso whatever secrets lay inside could be weaponized, he opened the leather cover.
what he found, however, was the last thing he expected: a delicate handwriting in black ink spilled across the yellowed pages, and, to his astonishment, the words were written in italian. theodore would have sworn that this was the equivalent of bloody tom riddle creating his first horcrux, feeling that illicit, electric thrill of discovery that riddle must have felt. how was it possible that there was another italian speaker at this school, in the middle of scotland, and theodore had no knowledge of it? nott knew everyone, even if only by sight. but never, in almost seven years at hogwarts, had he noticed the presence of other voice that spoke his language.
the mystery unraveled quickly. you appeared soon after, flustered and shaken in your uniform, having rushed out of your classroom in panic over your precious, now lost diary. then theodore knew. he knew who you were, of course, but heâd never paid you much attention. nor had you sought his, unlike the other desperate girls who were always hovering around him.
your luck was so utterly fucked that the only person who spoke italian in this school was the detective who had found your diary.
few words were exchanged, among them âi didnât know you spoke italianâ from the gray-eyed boy, and an embarassed âyes, i doâ from you. you wouldnât ask if he had read itâhonestly, you already knew the answer and chose to spare yourself the humiliationâso you simply took it and fled, cheeks burning with shame at what he might have seen.
hopefully, not much.
ââăťââ
BEFORE THE RELATIONSHIP:
your approach would be slow and gradual, and the initiative would come from theodore. small notes slipped to you during class written in italian, containing things like âsai qual è la risposta della sei?â do you know the answer to number six or âè il mio sogno lavare i capelli di snape con uno shampoo costoso. sul serio, non ho mai visto niente di piĂš orribile.â itâs my dream to wash snapeâs hair with an expensive shampoo. seriously, iâve never seen anything more horrible, once you were closer, observations that were solely meant to you. there, you would realize that this was theodoreâs way of starting conversations and reaching out discreetly, in a way that no one but the two of you would understand. with these small acts, youâd notice that he wasnât the unbearable boy the gryffindors and a portion of the school (which was polarized between slytherin bootlickers and complete snake haters) made him out to beâand that, in fact, he was genuinely thoughtful, sharp, and quietly compelling.
smiles followed in the corridors. a shared ciao became routine. sometimes, if you were heading to the same place, he would draw you into conversation, always in italian. from the other side of the corridor, mattheo would look at him in confusion, not understanding why the hell theodore was speaking the language with a girl he barely acknowledged before; and theodore would tell him only what was necessary. this was a new part of his life that he considered private, even if he barely knew you yet.
the turning point would be when trelawney paired the two of you for a divination assignment. youâd meet at the library, intending to work, but spent most of the afternoon talking instead. there, youâd tell him why you learned Italianâas a way to express yourself without anyone around understandingâand theodore would take the opportunity to flirt, making it clear that you were the first girl intelligent enough to speak the language heâd always known; and that you enchanted him. your cheeks would burn, and heâd give you the most charming smile youâd ever seenâtypically Italian, really. when you admitted he was the first native speaker you had ever known, his smile widened. âthen Iâll have to take you to italy someday,â heâd say with a wink, before picking up his quill and insisting you actually begin studying. from then on, well, the urge to know theodore more deeply grew considerably.
as the days passed, theo found himself increasingly enchantedânot just with you, but with the freedom he felt around you, able to express himself with words that werenât in the english dictionary. speaking italian with you awakened parts of himself he hadnât known were dormant. heâd show you his favorite italian songs, and when you said your favorite was the classic âvolare,â by the gypsy kings, theodoreâs smile was worthy of a toothpaste commercialâbright and enormous. merlin, he loved that song. he had a deeply affectionate memory of his mother dancing to it many years ago, red hair in the wind and a flowing dress in the summer air.
gradually, english would slowly give way to italian, and youâd rarely speak the former language. especially when you were in crowdsâyou didnât want others to understand you.
âdid you read my diary?â you asked one day, walking beside him through the halls. your uniforms almost dragging on the floor.
âno,â he replies. âbut only because there wasnât time, gattina. i would have read it if Iâd had the chance.â he winks mischievously.
theodore would take you to various italian restaurants once things finally began to escalate. there, heâd tell you stories about his mother, his life in italy as a child, and how good it felt to finally have someone who understood him. you listened, honored by the trust he placed in you.
your inside jokes would be absurdâhe couldnât remember a time when heâd laughed so much. the best part was that they were truly internal; no one would ever understand you. references to classic italian films that were never translated to english would be as common as snow in winter, and he would make a point of showing you more esoteric works that a non-speaker would never grasp. in this way, your bond would grow each day, as strong and indestructible as nuclear paste.
when he finally asked you to be his girlfriend, it would be the italian way. an intimate proposal, a picnic with dishes his mother used to make and that he cooked himself. heâd give you a promise ringâa fedina, as they called itâa small silver band with a tiny emerald stone that symbolized your bond; and that would keep other boys out of your orbit.
ââăťââ
DURING THE RELATIONSHIP:
the notes would persist, but now with a more⌠intimate tone. ânon vedo lâora di scoparti stasera ;)â i canât wait to fuck you tonight; âquella collana è molto carina, ma scommetto che le mie mani che ti strangolano sono piĂš piacevoli.â that necklace is very nice, but i bet my hands strangling you are nicer, and other obscene writings that arenât very appropriate to share.
the promise to take you to Italy and introduce you to more Italians would have been fulfilled long ago. rome, always rome, would be religiously chosen for the summer break, and theodore would watch adoringly as your dress spun in the wind at some little bar on one of the streets lit by yellow european lights, the heat responsible for painting tiny beads of sweat on your forehead as you danced to the traditional funiculĂŹ, funiculĂ âbut you wouldnât stop. youâd interact and dance and eat and drink gracefully with some of theoâs acquaintances, and he could distinguish your light accent and your voice from afar in the myriad of different voices.
your arguments would be heated, with shouting and never, ever using english words. once again, italian would reign between you, and something about the curses and strong phonetics lacking in english made you and him fully agree that arguing like that was better. more honest. scorchingâjust like your souls. after the reconciliationâwhich never took more than an hour, because you simply couldnât bear the excruciatingly painful distanceâthe sex would be wild.
âscusami per essere un ogro fottuto, amore mio,â theodore says between moans, thrusting into you hard in contrast to his gentle words. his cock filled you completely, your pussy gripping him so tightly that, if you hadnât already come three times on his tongue, heâd probably have trouble in thrusting. âcazzo, tesoro, scusami,â he whispers against your ear, stroking your clit with a calloused thumb in a frantic rhythm.
after hogwarts, when he had already seen you wear the wedding dress that phoena had worn long ago and a miniature version of the two of you ran through nott manor, you and theodore would commit to teaching your child Italian first, and thenâmany years later, mind youâyouâd tutor him english. not because the boy had any interest in the languageâhe hated it just as much as his fatherâbut because heâd be going to hogwarts, and unfortunately, even after a few generations, eleven-year-olds still didnât speak other languages; and because english was still the world's language. reluctantly, theodore would help you in this arduous mission, but he hoped, quietly, that his child would one day find what he had foundâsomeone who spoke to the deepest parts of him, as you always had. that his child would find someone as special, intelligent, and sweet as his mother.
A/n: hi babies! I'm starting a new little project. My new years resolution is to start writing more. Now that I'm almost done with school i have a bit more time on my hands, i love writing with a passion and i want nothing more than to share my work, im not the greatest writer but i don't use AI so i believe that counts for something. Writing is a trait built over time, im no longer allowing myself to be scared to write because of the fear of what my readers might think. I'm determined to allow constructive criticism to help me be better and not swallow me whole. I have so many ideas and ways to make these fics blossom (see what i did there đ).
These fics are based off of love and the negative light the flower holds to it. I will include pictures of said flower in the fic to give better visualization. Constructive criticism is always welcome, and so are you. Reblogging really helps my work get out there for more people to enjoy and experience, if you don't mind reblogging I'd forever appreciate it!
thali out đŤśđ˝
Gardenia's baby-mattheo riddle
Love that cannot be expressed openly
He's the son of the dark lord, you're the daughter of two noble muggles. He grew up in darkness and terror, you grew up in light and love. He is loveless. You are not.
Morning glory;nighttime lowliness - Theodore nott
Ephemeral love; beautiful but always fleeting
It was good, great even. The summer he took you to Italy, showed you his home away from home. He showed you his heart and soul, but is it enough?
Red amaryllis on the windowsill- Lorenzo Berkshire
Arrogant or competitive love; rivalry in relationships
It was the little things, one point higher; enough to gloat. Flying time faster by 5 seconds; enough to gloat. More friends; enough to gloat. Better parents; enough to gloat. Bigger house; enough to gloat. More money; enough to gloat. But when will it truly be enough to stop?
His wisteria - George Weasley
Love that entangles; hard to escape or let go
Loving you was like breathing, easy, refreshing. Being loved by him was like slowly being strangled, suffocating, deafening.
The red azalea's - tom riddle
Obsessive or suffocating love
No matter where you went, he was there. No matter who you spoke to, he was there. Hovering, watching, deeply in your mind, as if he were sucking the soul out of you. He watched, he protected, he threatened, he killed. He loved.
Violent, violet baby - neville longbottom
Love unspoken, suppressed by fear or shyness
7 years of pining, 7 years of yearning, 7 years of observing. 7 years down the drain in one week. 7 years building the courage and confidence, to just find her heart in pieces on the floor, but does she have to put the pieces back alone?
Jasmine - Draco Malfoy
Secret or forbidden love
She was muggle born. He was pureblood. She had nothing to do with the dark lord. He was the dark lords chosen assassin. It started with one look; must it end the same?
Pink geraniums - Ron Weasley
Love poisoned by doubt
Easily forgotten, easily thrown to the side. Expecting nothing but the same treatment, instead given a breath of fresh air. Is it enough?
The endless fields of pink yarrows - tom riddle
Wounded love;affection born from trauma or pain
Though he noticed everything, he failed to notice her. They'd lived together, ate together. In the same vicinity as one another. He never noticed her, until dumbledore was called to fetch them. How will they blossom
Mom, are those chamomiles? - Blaise zabini
Complacent or passive love; comfort mistaken for connection
2 years. 2 years of cuddling, of studying together, meeting one another's parents, talk of the future. 2 years of i love you, of dates, of Hand holding. 2 years of being each others firsts. 2 years of inseparablility, until graduation of course.
This looks so incredibly cool and Iâm so happy that youâre working towards a goal that will make you happy for this new year!
I think writing will always have its ups and downs but I do hope this is a wonderful experience for you to learn and grow. Your ideas already seem fantastic and captivating and I just canât wait to read them!!
WAIT HELLO (I am just realizing) youâre the same person who wrote the Mattheo fic about liking our tits and you tagged me (pizza) gasp I read another of ur fics the other day! Omg itâs so amazing to see you still writing!!! đ¤
OMG HI! I wasnât sure anyone was actually going to remember lol, because I stopped writing then made the decision to delete all of my old works, but a while later I just decided to start fresh and here I am :)
Itâs so lovely to see you again, and Iâm glad you found me! Also thank you for such gentle support, it means a lot <3
Chaos and moon dust is what sheâs made of @nyxienight - Tumblr Blog | Tumgag
