“bella, i think you dropped something—my heart.”

- theodore nott x reader

you were sitting in the common room, tucked in your favorite armchair, legs folded underneath you, book open in your lap.

it was unusually loud tonight—blaise and mattheo were throwing crumpled parchment balls at each other from opposite ends of the room. enzo was half-laughing, half-snoring on the couch with a chocolate frog wrapper stuck to his cheek. draco was pretending to read but absolutely not pretending to eavesdrop.

you were just trying to stay invisible.

until he walked in.

theodore nott.

his hair a little messy like he’d run his hands through it too many times. tie loosened, sleeves rolled. and that smile—lazy, but shy, and just barely tilted in your direction.

“she’s here,” blaise whispered loudly to mattheo, nudging him with his elbow.

you looked up, immediately wishing you hadn’t.

theodore was coming over. casually. but definitely not casual.

“bella,” he greeted softly, that slight lilt in his voice curling around the word like honey.

you blinked. “hi…”

his hands were in his pockets, shoulders a little tense. he wasn’t usually nervous. not like this.

mattheo was grinning like a menace behind him.

“so,” theo started, and paused. “i was thinking… you’re not going to the yule ball with anyone, right?”

you blinked again. very smooth. very articulate. classic you. “um… no?”

he smiled, one side of his mouth tugging up, voice lowering just a bit. “buona. i mean—good. that’s good.”

you could feel the stares of every other boy in the room digging into your back.

blaise mouthed “oh my god” while fake-fanning himself. enzo coughed something that sounded like “simp.”

you wanted to disappear. theo glanced at them, then rolled his eyes, muttering under his breath in italian.

“ignore them,” he said, now fully focused on you. “they are idiots.”

you bit back a smile.

“anyway,” he said, trying again. “i wanted to ask… maybe—if you want—would you go with me? to the ball?”

his voice was softer now, almost shy. the italian dipped into his tone like a secret. like he didn’t ask girls this sort of thing often. or ever.

you looked at him. really looked.

his eyes were warm. hopeful.

you smiled, fingers fiddling with the corner of your page. “okay. i’d like that.”

his whole face lit up—quietly, like sunrise. not dramatic. just warm.

“grazie, bella,” he said, under his breath, like it was just for you.

mattheo groaned obnoxiously from the couch. “someone put a silencing charm on them before i vomit.”

“shut up,” theo muttered, barely holding back a grin, reaching over to smack mattheo’s arm on the way out.

you sat there with your heart doing something weird and fluttery and fast in your chest, book completely forgotten.

when you looked back toward the stairs, theo was still watching you.

and he winked.

noble act - blaise zabini x reader

the slytherin common room was unusually quiet that night, the usual hum of conversation and crackling fire reduced to a soft stillness. you had just settled onto the green velvet couch, hoping for a quiet moment to read, when blaise appeared.

he stood by the entrance for a moment, his dark eyes fixed on you, before slowly making his way over. something about the way he moved—hesitant, almost reluctant—set your nerves on edge.

“hey,” you said, closing your book and sitting up straighter.

“hey,” he replied, his voice softer than usual.

he didn’t sit beside you. instead, he stayed standing, his hands shoved deep into his pockets as he looked down at you.

“blaise?” you asked, your brow furrowing. “what’s wrong?”

he let out a quiet sigh, his gaze dropping to the floor. “we need to talk.”

your stomach sank at those words. nothing good ever followed “we need to talk.”

“okay,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady. “talk.”

he hesitated, his jaw tightening as if the words physically pained him. “this… whatever we’re doing—it’s not working.”

the air felt like it had been knocked out of your lungs. “what are you talking about?”

“us,” he said, finally meeting your eyes. “i can’t do this anymore.”

you stood up, your heart racing. “why? what changed? you were fine yesterday—”

“i wasn’t,” he interrupted, his voice firm but not unkind. “i’ve been trying to pretend, trying to make it work, but… i can’t.”

“pretend?” you repeated, your voice trembling. “pretend what? that you care about me?”

“no,” he said quickly, his tone laced with frustration. “that i can be what you deserve.”

“don’t do that,” you said, shaking your head. “don’t turn this into some noble act like you’re doing me a favor.”

“it’s not noble,” he said quietly. “it’s honest. you deserve someone who can give you everything, who isn’t constantly second-guessing himself, who doesn’t—” he broke off, his voice cracking.

“who doesn’t what?” you pressed, tears welling in your eyes.

“who doesn’t ruin the only good thing in his life,” he finished, his voice barely audible.

“you’re not ruining anything,” you said, stepping closer. “but you are breaking my heart by walking away.”

he looked at you then, and for a moment, you thought he might change his mind. but the resignation in his eyes told you otherwise.

“i’m sorry,” he said, his voice soft but final.

you stared at him, your chest tight, your mind racing for something to say that would make him stay. but the words wouldn’t come, and he was already stepping back.

“goodbye, y/n,” he said, his voice breaking as he turned and walked away.

you didn’t call after him. you didn’t chase him. you simply stood there, watching as he disappeared up the stairs, taking a piece of your heart with him.

and for the first time, the common room felt cold, empty, and impossibly quiet.

theo & reader when TikTok was banned

you’re lying across theo’s bed, dramatically sprawled out like your world is ending. because, honestly, it kind of is.

“i don’t know how to go on,” you mumble into his pillow.

theo, sitting at the edge of the bed, barely looks up from his book. “merlin, what now?”

you lift your head just enough to glare at him. “tiktok is banned, theo.”

he flips a page, unimpressed. “tragic.”

you groan. “you don’t get it. i had thousands of videos saved. thirst traps. edits. theo nott povs. gone.”

this gets his attention. he raises an eyebrow. “povs?”

you bite your lip. “not important.”

he shuts his book with a soft thud, turning toward you. “you mean to tell me you’ve been watching videos about me?”

you roll onto your back, covering your face with your hands. “i plead the fifth.”

“that’s a muggle thing, love.”

“exactly.”

he smirks, shifting so he’s hovering over you, hands braced on either side of your head. “so, let me get this straight—you’ve been secretly obsessing over me on tiktok?”

“theo.”

he’s grinning now, leaning closer. “i should start charging for all this free entertainment.”

you groan, shoving at his chest. “you are the worst.”

he catches your wrist, bringing it to his lips. “but i’m all you’ve got now, huh?”

you huff, but you don’t pull away. “unfortunately.”

his smirk softens into something smug yet unbearably fond. “lucky you, then.”

"little dove" - daemon targaryen x younger! reader

it was overwhelming—the noise, the grandeur, the presence of the man who had just entered the hall. you’d heard stories about daemon targaryen, the rogue prince, the rider of caraxes, the wielder of dark sister. but nothing could have prepared you for him in person.

he strode into the room like he owned it, silver hair gleaming in the light of the chandeliers, his sharp violet eyes sweeping across the crowd with a mix of disdain and amusement. he didn’t walk; he prowled, exuding a confidence that made the lords and ladies in the room shrink back without him even saying a word.

you were trying not to stare. really, you were. but it was impossible not to. he was unlike anyone you’d ever seen—sharp, dangerous, and utterly magnetic.

unfortunately, he noticed.

his gaze landed on you, lingering for a moment too long, and your breath hitched as he tilted his head, his smirk widening like he’d caught you doing something forbidden. he changed direction, cutting through the room with ease, and suddenly, he was standing in front of you.

“what’s this?” he said, his voice low and smooth, carrying just the faintest hint of mockery. “a little dove lost in a room full of wolves?”

you blinked up at him, your cheeks flushing as you scrambled to respond. “i—i’m not lost,” you stammered, though your voice came out softer than you intended.

daemon chuckled, the sound low and rich, as he leaned in slightly, his violet eyes never leaving yours. “no?” he murmured. “then what are you doing, sitting here so quietly? afraid someone might notice you?”

“no!” you said quickly, though the heat in your cheeks betrayed you. “i just… i prefer to observe.”

his smirk deepened, and he straightened, his hands resting casually on the hilt of his sword. “observe,” he repeated, the word rolling off his tongue like it amused him. “tell me, little dove, what have you observed about me?”

your heart raced, and you looked down at your lap, unsure how to answer. “nothing,” you lied, though it was painfully obvious.

daemon leaned down again, his voice dropping to a near whisper. “you’re a terrible liar,” he said, his tone carrying a hint of amusement. “but i’ll allow it. for now.”

you dared to glance up at him, your cheeks still warm as you struggled to steady your voice. “why are you talking to me?” you asked softly, genuinely confused.

he tilted his head, his smirk softening into something more curious. “because you’re the only one here who isn’t tripping over themselves to impress me,” he said, his voice low and deliberate. “and i find that… interesting.”

you didn’t know how to respond to that, so you said nothing, your fingers fidgeting nervously with the fabric of your dress. daemon watched you for a moment longer, as if trying to unravel whatever secret he thought you were hiding, before stepping back.

“we’ll talk again, little dove,” he said, his smirk returning as he turned to leave. “i think i’d like to see what else you’re hiding.”

and with that, he was gone, leaving you flustered and confused, your heart racing as you replayed his words in your head. it was your first conversation with daemon targaryen, but you had a sinking feeling it wouldn’t be your last.

WHAT WAS LOST - daemon targaryen x reader

A/N : lil swap in content but hp content will be back trust guys

the halls of the red keep buzzed with the quiet hum of courtly whispers, the kind that wrapped around corners and grew heavier with every retelling. daemon had heard bits and pieces all morning—snippets about the princess, the maesters, and the twins.

he didn’t want to believe it.

“what are they saying?” he barked at one of the guards lingering in the corridor. his tone was sharp, cutting through the muted murmurs around him.

the man hesitated, his gaze flicking nervously to the floor. “my prince, i don’t mean to—”

“say it,” daemon snapped, his patience already thin. “what’s happened?”

the guard shifted uncomfortably, then mumbled, “the princess... the twins. they’re gone.”

daemon’s chest tightened, his pulse quickening as the words sank in. “gone?” his voice was quieter now, colder. “what do you mean, gone?”

“it happened days ago,” the man said hesitantly. “the maesters tried, but—”

daemon didn’t wait to hear the rest. his steps were quick and purposeful as he made his way toward your chambers, his mind racing. the whispers in the keep grew louder in his head, swirling with questions he didn’t want to ask but couldn’t stop himself from thinking.

when he pushed the door open, you were sitting by the window, your head bowed, hands clutched tightly in your lap. the late afternoon light streamed through the curtains, painting the room in muted golds and shadows.

you didn’t move when he entered.“is it true?” his voice was low, almost calm, but there was an edge to it, a tension that made the air feel heavier.

you flinched slightly, but didn’t look up. “daemon—”“don’t,” he cut you off, stepping further into the room. “don’t start with my name. just answer me. is it true?”

your throat tightened, your hands trembling in your lap. you couldn’t bring yourself to look at him, couldn’t bear to see the expression on his face. “yes,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

“it’s true.”the silence that followed was suffocating. daemon’s jaw tightened, his fists clenching at his sides as he stood there, unmoving. his mind raced, trying to process your words, trying to understand how something like this could’ve happened without him knowing.“when?” he finally asked, his tone sharper now.

“when did it happen?”

“two days ago,” you murmured, your voice trembling. “i didn’t know how to tell you.”

“you didn’t know how to tell me?” daemon repeated, his voice rising slightly. “so i’m supposed to hear it from the servants instead? from whispers in the bloody halls?”

your shoulders shook as tears filled your eyes, but you forced yourself to keep your gaze down. “i thought—i thought it would be easier this way.”

“easier?” he let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. “for who? for me? for you?”

“daemon, please—”

“no,” he snapped, cutting you off again. “don’t. you think i wouldn’t have wanted to know? to be here?”

the room fell silent again, the weight of his words hanging heavy between you. finally, you looked up at him, your eyes red and filled with guilt. “i didn’t want you to see me like this.”

he stared at you for a long moment, his jaw tight, his breathing uneven. then, slowly, he crossed the room, dropping to one knee in front of you. his hands hovered for a moment before settling on your stomach, his touch hesitant but firm.

“they were here,” he said quietly, his voice rough, almost hoarse. “i felt them.”

you nodded, your tears spilling over as you whispered, “i’m sorry.”

“don’t,” he said immediately, his tone sharp but not unkind. “don’t apologize. not for this.”

you sobbed quietly, your hands covering his as he pressed his palm more firmly against your stomach. he didn’t say anything else—daemon was never one for words in moments like these. instead, he stayed there, his head bowed slightly, his touch grounding you both.

the room was quiet except for the faint crackle of the fire and your uneven breaths. daemon’s hand lingered on your stomach, his grip tightening slightly as if he could somehow hold on to what was lost.“i should’ve been here,” he muttered after a while, his voice low and rough. “maybe if i had—”

“don’t,” you interrupted, shaking your head. “don’t do that to yourself.”he didn’t respond, but his jaw tightened, his violet eyes flickering with something raw and unspoken. for all his sharp edges and unyielding pride, there was a vulnerability in him now that he couldn’t hide.

“they’re gone,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “and i don’t know how to—”“we’ll figure it out,” he said, his voice firm. “we don’t have a choice.”it wasn’t a grand declaration.

it wasn’t filled with soft reassurances or promises he couldn’t keep. but in daemon’s world, it was enough. it was his way of telling you that, no matter how broken the two of you felt, he wasn’t going to leave.and for now, that was enough.

COCA COLA - theodore not x fem!reader

the sound of the common room door opening broke the relative quiet, followed by loud voices and laughter. you didn’t even need to look up from your book to know who it was. the slytherin boys always made their presence known.

“theo, you skipped out on the match?” blaise’s voice was dripping with mock disbelief. “what’s the matter, afraid of a little excitement?”

“quidditch is for show-offs,” theo drawled, leaning lazily against the windowsill. he was nursing a half-empty bottle of coca-cola, his dark eyes watching you as though you were the only person in the room. “besides, it’s loud. not my thing.”

“ah, so you decided to sit here and stare at your girl instead?” mattheo riddle teased, flopping onto the couch and throwing his feet up on the table. his smirk was as wicked as ever. “romantic, theo. very romantic.”

your cheeks burned, but theo didn’t rise to the bait, just tilted his head and smirked back. “jealous, riddle? don’t worry, mate, i’m sure there’s a first-year somewhere who’d love your attention.”

“oh, piss off,” mattheo shot back, though the grin on his face said he wasn’t offended.

“leave them alone,” draco’s drawl came from somewhere behind mattheo. “some of us would rather not hear theo being all… sentimental.”

“who said i was being sentimental?” theo retorted, his voice low and smooth as he stepped closer to you. “just sharing a drink, that’s all.”

blaise, ever the instigator, chuckled from his spot by the fire. “right. because handing over your drink isn’t intimate at all.”

“shut up,” you muttered, your face now fully flushed. you’d been trying to focus on your book, but with theo standing so close, his piercing gaze fixed on you, it was impossible to concentrate.

“you gonna defend me, or just let them keep running their mouths?” theo asked, his tone teasing as he handed you the bottle again. his fingers brushed yours, lingering just a second too long. “don’t be shy, y/n.”

you hesitated, taking a small sip of the soda. the sweetness lingered on your tongue, and you could feel theo’s eyes on you the entire time. when you handed the bottle back, his smirk deepened.

“what’s that look for?” you asked, your voice a little shaky.

“nothing,” he said, taking a slow sip himself. but when he pulled the bottle away, his tongue darted out to lick a drop from his lip, and his eyes were darker than they had been before. “just thinking how good it tastes.”

the way he said it sent a shiver down your spine, and the room suddenly felt too warm. before you could respond, mattheo groaned loudly, throwing his head back against the couch. “merlin, can you two stop eye-fucking each other for five seconds? some of us are trying to relax.”

“jealous?” theo asked, his smirk never wavering as he handed the bottle back to you. “don’t worry, riddle. maybe y/n will share.”

“not a chance,” you said, surprising yourself with your boldness.

the room erupted in laughter, mattheo throwing a pillow at you, which you easily dodged. but theo’s attention never wavered. he stepped closer, the bottle still in your hands, and leaned down so his face was level with yours.

“you know,” he murmured, his voice just low enough that only you could hear, “i can still taste it on you.”

your breath hitched as his lips brushed against the corner of your mouth, barely a whisper of contact, but enough to make your heart race. his hand found your waist, his grip firm and possessive as his thumb grazed your skin.

“oi!” blaise called out, his tone mock-offended. “take it to your dorms, theo. some of us don’t need to see this.”

“then stop looking,” theo shot back, his voice lazy but his eyes locked on yours. “besides, you lot are the ones who interrupted.”

draco groaned, running a hand through his hair as he stood. “right. that’s my cue to leave. if you’re going to be insufferable, do it somewhere else.”

as the others filtered out of the room, still throwing jabs and laughing, theo turned back to you, his smirk softening into something more genuine. “finally,” he muttered, his thumb brushing your cheek. “now, where were we?”

you couldn’t even form a response before his lips were on yours, soft and sweet, tasting of coca-cola and something undeniably theo. the kiss was slow at first, exploratory, but when you sighed against his mouth, his grip on your waist tightened, and he deepened it, leaving you breathless.

“you taste better than the coke,” he murmured, his voice rough as he pulled back just enough to meet your eyes. “but don’t tell blaise. he’ll never shut up about it.

FRACTURED RESTRAINT - mattheo riddle x f! reader

TW: NSFW

the party was loud, music pulsing through the air and laughter echoing in the corners of the room. mattheo riddle, leaning lazily against the wall with a drink in hand, scanned the crowd. he was supposed to be relaxing, celebrating the end of the chaos, but his mind was restless-until he spotted you.

you were his best friend. the one person he trusted, the one person who saw him beyond the sharp edges and dark reputation. but tonight, you looked different. not intentionally seductive, just... innocent. too innocent for a party like this. you were tucked into a corner, shyly sipping from your drink, wearing that same sweet, unassuming smile he knew so well. but the curve of your dress, the way it hugged you in places he hadn't allowed himself to notice before, was doing something to him.

he forced himself to look away, draining the rest of his drink and retreating upstairs. he couldn't do this- not here, not now. it wasn't fair to you. but as he reached his room,

he forced himself to look away, draining the rest of his drink and retreating upstairs. he couldn't do this-not here, not now. it wasn't fair to you. but as he reached his room, something stopped him dead in his tracks.

on his bed, barely hidden beneath one of his shirts, was a small piece of fabric. he picked it up, his heart pounding as the realization hit him. it was yours. your underwear. the delicate lace between his fingers made his throat go dry.

he shouldn't have kept it. he shouldn't have even touched it. but the scent-your scent— was unmistakable, and something primal took over.

mattheo locked the door behind him, his breathing uneven as he sank onto the edge of the bed. he knew it was wrong, knew he shouldn't be thinking about you like this, but the image of you downstairs-innocent, oblivious, perfect-was burned into his mind.

he leaned back against the headboard, the lace still in his hand. his other hand moved to the front of his trousers, the pressure unbearable as he palmed himself through the fabric. "fuck," he muttered under his breath, eyes shutting tight ,he let his mind wander.

he imagined you in his bed, that same sweet, shy smile on your lips as you let him touch you. imagined the way your soft gasps would sound, how your body would feel under his. his grip tightened as he pulled himself free, the cool air making him hiss.

wrapping the lace around his hand, he stroked himself slowly, the friction driving him insane. his mind was full of you-your laughter, your scent, the way your dress clung to your body. "so innocent," he groaned, his voice rough and low. "you don't even know what you do to me, do you?"

his pace quickened, the tension building in his stomach as he pictured you under him, your wide, innocent eyes staring up at him as he ruined you. his head fell back against the headboard, his jaw clenched as he let out a broken moan.

"fuck, y/n," he growled, the lace slipping from his fingers as his hand worked faster. the thought of you-the real you-would have made him stop, would have made him feel guilty.

it didn't take long. the tension snapped, his body shuddering as he spilled over his hand, your name tumbling from his lips like a prayer. for a moment, he just sat there, his breathing ragged, the lace still clutched in his hand.

as the high faded, reality crashed down. guilt clawed at his chest as he stared at the mess he'd made, the evidence of his weakness. he couldn't face you-not after this. but the worst part? he wasn't sure he wanted to stop.

downstairs, the party continued, oblivious to the war raging in mattheo's head. and as he cleaned up, hiding the lace back where he found it, one thing was clear: this wasn't over.

slytherin boy's headcons (them as ur bf <3)

theodore nott as your boyfriend :

• he’s the definition of quiet but observant; he notices every little thing about you, from your favorite snacks to how you fidget when nervous.

• doesn’t talk much, but when he does, it’s meaningful—his compliments feel rare and precious.

• surprisingly affectionate in private; he’ll always find excuses to brush his fingers against yours or pull you close when no one’s looking.

• reads a lot and will casually leave books he thinks you’d like in your bag or on your desk.

• fiercely protective but subtle about it—he’ll silently step in when someone’s bothering you or shoot a glare that makes them back off immediately.

• has a sarcastic sense of humor that comes out more as he gets comfortable with you; you’re one of the few people who ever see him smile.

• remembers everything you say, even the small things, and will surprise you by acting on it weeks later.

• not big on grand romantic gestures but makes up for it with small, thoughtful actions, like brewing your favorite tea or saving you a seat in class.

• loves stargazing; it’s one of the rare times he really opens up, sharing his thoughts and dreams while lying next to you under the stars.

• isn’t the best with words when expressing feelings but tries to write them down for you in short, heartfelt notes.

• values trust above all else; if you’re patient with him, he’ll let his walls down completely and be endlessly loyal.

• his love language is acts of service—he’ll carry your books, fix your broken quill, or help you study without you even asking.

• secretly adores when you wear something of his, like a sweater or scarf, and won’t say it outright but will be internally smug all day.

• has a soft, calming presence that makes you feel safe and at ease no matter what’s going on around you.

• he’s not perfect, sometimes retreating into himself when overwhelmed, but he’ll always come back to you, knowing you’re his anchor.

mattheo riddle as your boyfriend :

• the ultimate bad boy with a soft spot only for you; he’s tough around others but absolutely melts when it comes to you.

• constantly teases you but gets genuinely offended if you don’t fire back—he loves the banter.

• incredibly protective to the point where he’ll square up with anyone who even looks at you the wrong way.

• thrives on physical touch—his arm is always slung around your shoulders, hand in your back pocket, or fingers intertwined with yours.

• has a devilish grin that he only uses to fluster you because he knows it works every single time.

• somehow knows exactly where you are at all times, and not in a creepy way—just always shows up when you need him.

• calls you ridiculous nicknames like “princess,” “trouble,” or “love,” depending on his mood.

• super possessive but not in a toxic way—he just loves reminding people that you’re his.

• absolutely hates when you’re upset with him and will go out of his way to apologize, even if it means swallowing his pride.

• smokes casually and offers you his jacket when it’s cold, the scent of him lingering on it for hours after.

• loves pulling you into trouble with him, whether it’s sneaking out after curfew or pranking someone, but always makes sure you’re safe.

• surprisingly intellectual—he can talk about dark magic theories for hours and gets a kick out of teaching you forbidden spells.

• his temper can flare up, especially when someone crosses you, but he always calms down when you’re around.

• absolutely adores seeing you in his clothes; he’ll smirk and say, “Looks better on you, anyway.”

• deeply loyal—once you have his heart, there’s no getting rid of him, and he’ll do anything to keep you happy.

• loves late-night conversations, where he gets a little vulnerable and tells you about his past and his fears.

• has a soft side he rarely shows, but when he does, it’s for you—whether it’s stroking your hair when you’re stressed or mumbling “I love you” when he thinks you’re asleep.

• he’s chaos personified, but somehow, with you, he feels like he’s finally found a bit of peace.

lorenzo birkshire as your boyfriend:

• he’s the smooth talker who flirts like it’s second nature, but with you, it’s genuine—he means every word.

• loves to make you laugh; he’ll go out of his way to crack jokes, pull silly faces, or do over-the-top impressions just to see you smile.

• low-key a hopeless romantic; he’ll surprise you with little handwritten notes, flowers he “found,” or surprise dates in secret spots.

• absolutely loves PDA—he’s the type to kiss your cheek in front of everyone or hold your hand just to let people know you’re his.

• he’s fiercely loyal, and anyone who tries to mess with you instantly regrets it; he’ll defend you without hesitation.

• the type to whisper in your ear during class, making you both laugh quietly, even if it earns him a detention.

• incredibly charming but gets adorably flustered when you flirt back or catch him off guard.

• loves spoiling you in small ways—buying you your favorite sweets, carrying your bag, or sneaking you an extra butterbeer during Hogsmeade trips.

• surprisingly good at comforting you when you’re upset; he’ll listen, wrap you in a warm hug, and crack just the right joke to lighten the mood.

• lives for the banter between you two; he thinks it’s hilarious when you try to outwit him, even if you win.

• would give you his scarf or cloak without hesitation if you were cold and wouldn’t stop teasing you about looking “adorable” in it.

• the type to plan spontaneous adventures, dragging you out of bed to sneak around the castle or explore forbidden areas.

• he’s a mix of chaotic energy and soft affection, always knowing when to be playful and when to be serious.

• low-key brags about you to his friends but pretends he’s “too cool” to care when they tease him about how smitten he is.

• loves running his fingers through your hair absentmindedly, especially when you’re sitting close or leaning against him.

• insists on being your biggest cheerleader, hyping you up before exams, Quidditch matches, or even small challenges.

• gets jealous easily but tries to play it off—he’s terrible at hiding it, though, and ends up pouting until you reassure him.

• he’s the kind of boyfriend who’s both your partner in crime and your safe place, balancing wild fun with genuine love.

draco malfoy as your boyfreind:

• starts off guarded, but once he lets his walls down, he’s completely devoted to you.

• the type to act all cool and aloof in public but secretly loves holding your hand or brushing his fingers against yours.

• buys you extravagant gifts, not because he’s trying to show off, but because it’s how he expresses his love—jewelry, rare books, or even something sentimental he knows you’ll cherish.

• incredibly protective; he’d go out of his way to make sure you’re safe and comfortable, whether that means intimidating someone who’s bothering you or walking you to every class.

• struggles to express his emotions verbally but makes up for it through his actions—he’ll always be there when you need him, no questions asked.

• low-key thrives on your praise; hearing you say you’re proud of him or appreciate him makes him feel on top of the world.

• gets jealous easily and tries to play it cool, but his little snarky comments give him away every time.

• loves spoiling you in subtle ways, like slipping your favorite dessert onto your plate at dinner or reserving the best spot in the library for you.

• softens dramatically when he’s with you; he goes from sharp sarcasm to quiet vulnerability in your presence.

• late-night talks are where he truly opens up, sharing his fears, insecurities, and dreams he’s too afraid to admit to anyone else.

• secretly loves when you mess with his perfectly styled hair, even though he’ll complain about it every time.

• will drape his scarf or coat around your shoulders if you’re cold, muttering something about how he “can’t have you freezing to death.”

• loves hearing you laugh; he’ll go out of his way to say something witty just to see you smile, even if it’s at his expense.

• incredibly attentive to your needs—he notices when you’re tired, stressed, or upset, and does everything he can to help.

• he’s not big on public displays of affection but will always find little ways to show you’re his, like resting his hand on your lower back or standing close enough for your shoulders to touch.

• gets flustered when you compliment him, especially if you call him handsome or clever—he’ll roll his eyes, but his pink cheeks give him away.

• he’s not perfect and sometimes lashes out when he’s stressed, but he’s quick to apologize and make it up to you.

• when he says he loves you, it’s rare but deeply meaningful—you can tell he means it with everything he has.

• despite his flaws, he’s fiercely loyal, endlessly protective, and wholly yours, doing everything he can to make you feel loved.

blaise zabini as your boyfriend:

• effortlessly smooth and confident, he doesn’t even need to try to charm you—it’s just who he is.

• the king of subtle but meaningful gestures, like holding doors open for you, pulling out your chair, or placing his hand on your lower back to guide you through a crowd.

• loves to spoil you, but in a classy, understated way—think fine chocolate, rare books, or spontaneous weekend getaways.

• very private about your relationship; he keeps most of his affection behind closed doors but isn’t shy about letting people know you’re his.

• gives the best advice; he’s incredibly perceptive and always knows the right thing to say when you’re stressed or upset.

• he’s not big on loud, over-the-top displays of affection, but his actions always show how much he cares—he’s the type to quietly take care of things before you even ask.

• loves watching you talk about something you’re passionate about; he’ll rest his chin in his hand and just admire you with a soft smile.

• has a wicked sense of humor and loves teasing you, but it’s always playful and never hurtful—he secretly loves when you tease him back.

• he’s the epitome of cool, calm, and collected, but you’re the only one who can fluster him when you catch him off guard with affection or a well-timed compliment.

• ridiculously good at remembering details about you, like your favorite drink, your childhood stories, or even the exact shade of your favorite lipstick.

• loves to keep you close—whether it’s casually draping an arm over your shoulder or pulling you into his lap when you’re alone together.

• fiercely protective but subtle about it; one look from him is enough to make anyone second-guess bothering you.

• will casually drop compliments about you in conversations with his friends, but if they tease him about being soft, he just smirks and doesn’t deny it.

• he’s a fantastic listener and always makes you feel like you’re the most important person in the room when you’re talking to him.

• takes immense pride in how you carry yourself and always reminds you of how incredible you are, even if you don’t see it yourself.

• adores dressing up for dates with you and insists on coordinating outfits so you both look effortlessly elegant together.

• late nights with him often involve deep conversations, a bottle of wine, and a lot of soft touches as he shares pieces of himself he doesn’t show anyone else.

• has a surprisingly tender side—he’ll hold you close when you’re feeling down, whispering reassurances that everything will be okay.

• he’s all about balance: the perfect mix of suave, playful, and deeply caring, making you feel like the luckiest person in the world.

you love me, and you know it - theodore nott x reader

you were sitting cross-legged on the common room couch, your potions textbook balanced precariously on your knees as you scrawled notes onto a piece of parchment. theodore was sprawled on the other end, his long legs taking up way too much space as he flipped lazily through quidditch weekly.

"you know, if you keep writing like that, your hand's gonna fall off," he muttered, not even looking up.

you shot him a look. "thanks for the concern, mother. maybe if someone helped me with this essay, i wouldn’t be in this situation."

he smirked, finally glancing your way. "and deprive you of the character-building experience? wouldn’t dream of it."

"theo," you groaned, throwing your quill in his direction. he dodged it easily, laughing under his breath.

"relax," he said, sitting up and pulling the parchment out of your hand. "let me see what you’ve got so far."

you leaned back, watching as his eyes scanned your work. his brow furrowed slightly, the way it always did when he was concentrating.

"this part here—" he pointed at one of your paragraphs, "—you’re overcomplicating it. just say what you mean. professor slughorn loves it when you make it sound like you’re dumbing it down for him."

"how do you know that?" you asked, narrowing your eyes.

he shrugged. "people talk."

"you eavesdrop."

"semantics," he said with a lazy grin, handing the parchment back to you.

you rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the small smile tugging at your lips. "you’re annoying, you know that?"

"and yet, here we are." he stretched out again, tucking his arms behind his head like he owned the place. "you love me."

"keep telling yourself that," you muttered, picking up your quill again.

he didn’t respond, but when you glanced at him a few moments later, you caught the faintest smirk on his face.

written in red (ootp) - harry james potter x fem!reader

you and harry had only been dating for a few weeks, and everything still felt new and unsteady. being friends first made it easier in some ways, but the shift into something more left room for awkward moments neither of you quite knew how to handle.

like this one.

harry had come into the gryffindor common room late, his footsteps quiet but deliberate. he stopped short when he saw you sitting at one of the tables, your head bent over your work, your free hand tucked under the table.

“hey,” he said softly, stepping closer.

you glanced up, startled, before quickly moving your hand to your lap. “harry. what are you doing up?”

“couldn’t sleep,” he said, slipping into the chair across from you. “what about you?”

“just… catching up on work,” you said, your voice quieter than usual.

harry’s brows furrowed as he leaned forward. “you okay? you look—” he hesitated, his gaze flicking to your hand. “—tense.”

“i’m fine,” you said quickly, but your eyes darted away from his, and you tucked your hand further into your lap.

harry’s frown deepened. “y/n… what’s wrong?”

“nothing,” you said, your voice rising slightly in defensiveness.

he tilted his head, his green eyes soft but insistent. “can i see your hand?”

your stomach twisted as you shook your head. “it’s nothing, harry.”

he reached out, his fingers brushing yours lightly. “please?”

his voice was so gentle, so full of worry, that you hesitated before slowly placing your hand on the table.

his eyes immediately landed on the angry red words carved into your skin: i must not be late. his face darkened.

“she made you use that quill,” he said, his voice quiet but filled with anger.

“it’s not a big deal,” you said, trying to pull your hand back, but he held on gently, his thumb brushing over the scar.

“not a big deal?” he repeated, his voice rising slightly. “y/n, she made you carve this into your hand. how is that not a big deal?”

“she does it to everyone,” you said, avoiding his gaze. “it’s just how she is.”

harry shook his head, his grip on your hand tightening slightly. “that doesn’t make it okay.”

“harry, it’s fine,” you said, glancing up at him. “really. it doesn’t even hurt that much.”

he didn’t say anything for a moment, his thumb tracing over the words like he was trying to erase them.

“you shouldn’t have to deal with this,” he said softly, his eyes meeting yours. “you shouldn’t have to hide it.”

your cheeks warmed at the intensity of his gaze. “i didn’t want to make it a big thing,” you admitted.

“it is a big thing,” he said firmly. “you can tell me these things, y/n. that’s… part of this, isn’t it?”

you blinked, surprised by his words. “yeah,” you said softly. “it is.”

he nodded, his expression softening as he squeezed your hand gently. “next time, just tell me. okay?”

“okay,” you said, a small smile tugging at your lips.

he didn’t let go of your hand, and neither of you moved for a moment, the silence stretching out between you. it wasn’t awkward, though—it was warm, comforting.

“does it still hurt?” he asked after a while, his voice quiet.

“a little,” you admitted, glancing at your hand.

he frowned, his thumb brushing over the scar again. “i wish i could do something about it.”

“you are,” you said, your smile growing. “just… being here helps.”

his cheeks turned a bit pink, but he smiled back. “good.”

and as he continued to hold your hand, his touch gentle and reassuring, you realized that maybe this whole “dating harry potter” thing wouldn’t be so awkward after all.