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g1rld1ary · 2 months ago

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let things go - ex!james potter x reader (kind of)

wc: 4455

summary: cleaning out your apartment so your boyfriend can move in, you come across a box of mementos and discover you're maybe not as over your ex as you thought | angst, swearing, problematic boyfriend (not james), lots of flashbacks, modern!magic!AU

me: this is maybe the angstiest fic i've ever written and i'm sorry that present james isnt in it, but i do have ideas for where his story could go, so if people like this i'm open to writing a second part! based off the song let things go from ordinary days!!

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You stared around your apartment, hands on your hips as you mentally prepared to make it your bitch. With Britney Spears’ Circus album playing and garbage bags at your disposal, you were sure you were ready.

You wondered how you could’ve ever considered the place not big enough for all your belongings, grimacing as you imagined the bomb-site it would soon become. But that’s why you were cleaning, right? For the greater good, because you deserve to live in a place not cluttered by trinkets and things stuffed in places they don’t belong. Or maybe because you’re boyfriend had decided he was moving in. Who could say, really?

You flung open a closet door, unimpressed at the mass of clothes seemingly defying physics to stay off the floor. My life has to be more than the sum of this… stuff you thought to yourself, turning your back on that. The closet was scaring you too much to start, you should pick something easier. You looked up at the bookshelf, teeming with novels you’d long since loved, and told yourself to grow up. Today was the day you started cleaning things out. Today was the day you’d start letting things go.

Hours later, you’d made a start and not much else. You stood in the centre of your bedroom, your whole entire history strewn across the floor. Fetched from a box deep in the back of your closet, a treasure trove of trinkets lay in front of you as you decided what you had to get rid of. Years-old planners, dog-eared postcards. Why was I even keeping these? You asked yourself, laughing at the ridiculous thought of you even holding onto frivolous mementos all these years.

But then you shot yourself in the foot. You almost saw it from an outside perspective, bending down, fingers dusting lightly over the various souvenirs until they curled around the planner, decorated with stickers and photos taped to the front. You recognised it immediately, the planner you had for seventh year.

Your stomach dropped as the memories smacked you in the face and you were on the floor before you knew it, furiously thumbing through the pages.

september 1st - first day of seventh year!

september 27th - hogsmeade date with james <3

october 5th - study with james 4pm

october 31st - halloween! common room party 8pm: make sure james’ costume is ready!!!!

november 23rd - sirius’ birthday party 8:30pm

december 25th - christmas at the potters! make sure gifts are here for effy and monty

january 1 - new years day!! to do: kiss jamie <3

february 14th - valentines day! date with james 7pm

april 9th - easter lunch with the potters

may 29th - graduate from hogwarts!! to do: start life with jamie

A year full of James; one of six knowing him in Hogwarts, one of four that you dated. Every other day had something involving James — help him with his essay, going to Hogsmeade with him, kiss him silly (god bless teenage hormones and being in love, why were you writing that in your academic planner?). Every new page and task brought back memory after memory of James and his dumb smile and your stupid dates and the whole relationship you thought would never end.

You snapped back into your real life, forcibly ignoring the water collecting at your lash line. You were fine, everything was fine. Your eyes strayed to a postcard, paper edges fraying and wearing thin from the amount of time you’d obviously spent re-reading and admiring it.

The design on the postcard was cute and kitschy, a vintage style beach picture with a sun lounger and palm tree. You remembered it instantly, receiving it in the post over the summer between your sixth and seventh year. You flipped it over with trembling hands, the familiar chicken scratch scrawl bringing a small smile to your face.

Hey lovie,

I am in Nice! We got in late last night and I’ve been exploring all day — remind me to show you the photos when I get back because it’s so beautiful here. We should come back here together next year.

Anyway, I’ve been walking around town and this older man asked if I fancied a shag — fancy that! I said no, thank you, I’m actually married, just to see how it felt (very good). I can’t wait to marry you when we’re older, gorgeous.

Mum and Dad are absolutely thrilled to be by the beach — I think they’ll be prunes by the time we get back to England! Will send you photos to laugh at in the next letter.

I love you!

James Potter (your future husband)

You sat for a minute, the postcard crumpling slightly from the tension between your fingers. Then, in a flash, you slammed the postcard down on the floor, staring up at the ceiling to stop yourself from crying.

You stashed the belongings back in the box, unwilling to look at them anymore but unable to throw them away. You just couldn’t get rid of all those memories. Still, you needed to clear out some room for Adam’s things, so you tentatively labelled the box ‘maybe’ to pretend you were considering getting rid of it all.

You exhaled emphatically, convincing yourself to think it over and throw it all out at the end of the day. Just after you did the rest of the room.

Things only got worse from there. You’d never thought of yourself as a hoarder of the past, but as soon as you were looking around your flat, you discovered decorative or sentimental items displayed on every surface, hidden in every drawer and cupboard. Birthday cards from years gone by, plastic souvenirs from monuments you’d travelled to, a pamphlet on Van Gogh from when your friend group went to France and wandered around the d’Orsay making fun of the paintings.

You shook your head, physically manifesting the negative thoughts leaving your head. You needed to clean all this shit out! You should’ve done it years ago.

But then you picked up a framed photo — the one that always seemed to fall face down whenever your boyfriend came around. It was your graduation photo, all your friends crammed in like sardines to fit in the shot. You were pressed into James’ side, his strong athlete’s arm wrapped snugly around you. Nothing else about the picture indicated you were a couple, which was how you rationalised keeping it up, but holding it now, you could feel all the memories rushing back to you like it had happened yesterday. The soft breeze, the smell of daisies from the grounds, your friends' beams, the feeling of James’ hands around you.

You could feel the sensation like it was current, but it all seemed like lifetimes ago. You’d seen James maybe once since your breakup, purely by accident, and it was like ripping your heart out all over again, like you were freshly eighteen and experiencing the first heartbreak of your life.

And to be honest, you could hardly remember the last time you’d even seen the rest of your friends. There was no picking sides, no ferocity or anger, but somewhere along the way, they’d faded from your life, much to your regret. Now, you spent most of your time with Adam. And Adam’s friends. Which was great.

Suddenly, you realised how much your life had changed. How much you’d changed. Adam didn’t even know you were a witch, for God’s sake!

Suddenly, the pictures weren’t just pictures, and souvenirs weren’t just hunks of plastic; they were proof that this life was yours — even if you hadn’t been living it for years. And you couldn’t let that go, you couldn’t dispose of the identity you’d just realised you’d lost. So back the trinkets went, returned to surfaces and shelves in pride of place. Small reminders that you were still who you always had been, even if you didn’t feel like it.

How did it happen? You’d torn up your apartment just to decide you couldn’t get rid of anything, painstakingly returning everything to its place.

Fuck! Adam. Adam still needed to move in —well, he still wanted to move in. So you still needed to find some room for his things. But surely he’d be fine? You could get creative, maybe move some of your mementos from out of the closet and into one of the cabinets in the hallway where Adam would never look, so you didn’t have to get rid of any of it. Or maybe some of your things could be stuffed into the spelled secret crevice where you kept your wand stashed whenever he came around.

You glanced at the clock on the wall. Adam would be over in fifteen minutes. Everything needed to go back in its place before he arrived, or all hell would break loose.

It was a known fact to you that Adam was jealous of James, even now. You’d met whilst the two of you were still dating, and Adam had, both before and after, always made comments about how you weren’t right for each other. It had irked you a bit whilst you and James were together, but then again, he was right, so… The point was, if Adam knew you were keeping all of these mementos that involved James, he’d flip.

Half an hour later, Adam arrived.

“Hey, Babe,” He unlocked the door with the key you’d given him free access to a few weeks ago, “Turn that shit off, it’s trashy.” He followed the statement with a kiss, which confused your senses. You nonetheless got up to switch off the music, changing it to an album you knew you could both enjoy, something he’d introduced you to.

“So did you clean out some of your stuff?” He fell onto the couch next to you, reaching to turn on the television. You watched him reach for the remote, sighing as you turned off the music.

“Uh, kind of,” You hesitated, searching for the right words, “I moved some things around. I’ll still have to do some work on it, but I’m sure we’ll have space!”

“Babe,” He groaned, putting an arm around the back of the couch, sitting just disconnected from your skin. “I’m moving in in a few weeks, we’ve gotta get this stuff ready. I know you’re a ‘feeler’, but it’s just stuff, you have to make compromises for me.”

“I know, I’m sorry,” You shifted in your seat, eyes glued to the television screen where Adam was clicking through programs, “It’s all just got sentimental value to me. It’s hard to get rid of any of it. But I’ll try, I promise.”

“What about I just do it? I’m sure I can put a bunch of papers and plastic snow globes in the bin.”

“No!” You said, too fast. “It’s okay, I’ll have another try and be stricter with myself. It’s just the first time I’ve looked at any of this stuff in a while. Memories, you know?”

“I get it, Babe, but we have new memories now. And we’ll make more. You don’t need a shitty hunk of plastic from eight years ago.” You made a noise of agreement, not wanting to get into any more detail about what the ‘hunks of plastic’ really were.

After the talks of moving in and cleaning out moved on, your night really was nice. Adam helped you cook some dinner, and you turned on a film he’d been talking about for a few weeks, but something still felt wrong.

You could tell Adam expected to stay over, a fair assumption, and was being touchy enough that you knew what he wanted. To your own dismay, your body was rejecting his advances, knee twitching when he laid his hand on it, subconsciously leaning away when he cuddled in or nuzzled into your neck. You didn’t want to, but everything felt wrong in the moment.

“Hey, um, I think I’m getting my period or something, my stomach feels really weird. Do you mind if we call it here?” It was a cheap shot, you knew, but also not necessarily a lie — your stomach was feeling queasy.

Adam looked at you for a minute, and you weren’t sure if his knitted brows were for concern, confusion or judgment. Probably all three.

“Sure, I guess. Do you need, like, a hot water bottle or something?”

“No, it’s okay. I’ll take a painkiller and see if it gets worse. Thanks, though.”

You accompanied him to the door, apologising again softly as he pulled on his shoes.

“It’s fine, I’ll see you soon. Love you,” He said, crossing the boundary outside of your flat. You hummed in agreement, leaning up to press a kiss on his lips.

“Bye,” You murmured, shutting the door softly as he took off. You leant against the door, a sigh escaping you.

You suddenly felt like you were in a video game, anything from your life before Adam illuminating in a glow, calling your attention to them. You stumbled through the apartment, buzzing from photo to souvenir to memento in a haze of memories.

It all came to a head in your bedroom, a box half full of things that didn’t fit in other places still sitting in the middle of the room. You sank to your knees, unable to stop yourself from immersing yourself in the years of memories you were unlocking.

You felt like you were waking up from a dream, a whole reality fading in and out of existence, the pathways of your life splintering as you looked back on where they all diverged. At what point did you make the decision that put you on this specific path? Was it worth it?

You picked up a folded paper flower from out of the box, being taken back to the day you received it.

It was the winter of fourth year, just after the Christmas holidays. The grounds of Hogwarts were covered in a blanket of crisp snow, something that most students found beautiful and calming, but you thought it was isolating, suffocating.

“What’s up, grump?” James approached your spot in the bay window of the library, staring vacantly out at the pristine white grounds. You looked up in surprise, a small smile gracing your lips.

“Just putting off my charms essay, waiting for spring to come,” You sighed. This wasn’t a new problem; all of your friends were well aware of your aversion to winter, but it didn’t mean it ever got better.

“Right,” James laughed quietly, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly, “Well, I, uh, made this to help you feel better?” It came out as way more of a question than he obviously intended, causing a rosy blush on his cheeks as he revealed a paper folded flower from behind his back.

“Potter? What is this?” You asked in delight, reaching out with delicate fingers to cradle the flower in your hands.

“My mum taught me how to make them over the holidays. I thought it’d make you happy over the winter ‘cause they won’t die.” You beamed, looking up at James with bright eyes.

“That is so cute! Thank you, James.” You went to turn back to the window, thinking the conversation was over, when James cleared his throat awkwardly.

“This might be weird or whatever, so, like, don’t even worry, but would you maybe want to go to Hogsmeade with me next time?”

“Aren’t we all going together in a few weeks?” You asked casually, not fully catching on to what James meant.

“Um, yeah, but I meant just the two of us? Like a date?” James was looking anywhere but at you, a stark difference from his usual cocky, borderline obnoxious demeanour.

“Oh!” You broke out into a wide smile, nodding before you could even get the words out, “Yeah, I’d really like that!”

“Cool,” James replied, sporting his own dorky grin. “Awesome. Amazing! Can’t wait.”

“Yeah,” You agreed, a little awkward but excited nonetheless.

“Yeah.” You and James stared at each other for a moment, unsure of where to go from there. “I’ll see you at dinner then!” He waved quickly, practically leaving a trail of smoke behind him.

You watched him go, a smile still lingering on your lips. James Potter just asked you out on a date! Fancy that!

You and James had dated for the second half of fourth year, fifth through seventh year, and made it eight months after you graduated. That was a significant period of your life, pretty much all of your adolescent memories were inseparably associated with James. You put down the flower, carefully preserving it amongst the other items.

You felt a bit like a madwoman, throwing your things across the floor, jumping from memory to memory like you were a starving man coming across food for the first time.

Even the clip in your hair was a gift from him, coincidentally, the same night you met Adam for the first time.

“Here, lovie, got you a clip so you don’t have to have it in your eyes while you’re dancing.” James approached you from behind, offering you the claw clip before wrapping his arms around your middle, smoothly joining in the group’s conversation.

“Is that where you went?” You asked with a happy gasp, reaching around James to quickly put your hair up. You’d been complaining for the last hour since your group had started dancing as opposed to sitting and chatting, your outfit not quite prepared for the occasion.

“Prongs is so pussy-whipped he went to a chemist for a clip on a night out,” Sirius barked out a laugh to Remus, who just rolled his eyes with a smile.

“Forgive me for loving my beautiful girlfriend?” James asked with a spoonful of sass, placing a kiss on your cheek.

An hour later, you were dancing with the girls, carefree as you threw your arms around in the air. Lily nudged you at one point, gesturing just beyond where the boys were crowding near the bar to where another man was watching you. It wasn’t necessarily intimidating or threatening, but you were unused to attention after being so associated with your relationship for so many years. You accidentally made eye contact with him, sparing him a half smile, unsure of what the proper protocol was.

You’d long forgotten about the man once a Kesha song came on, getting lost in the music with your friends.

About an hour later, you were slowly making your way up to the bar for another drink when the man returned, approaching you with a charming smile.

“Hi, I’m Adam. You’re stunning,” He said, taking you aback with his directness.

“Oh, uh, hi. Nice to meet you,” You introduced yourself, strangely reserved.

“Are you here by yourself?” Adam asked, subtly shuffling closer. You leant back, shaking your head.

“No, I’m here with some friends. And that’s my boyfriend over there.” You pointed James out as he laughed at something Marlene said.

“That guy? No way.” Adam shook his head confidently, laughing in a way that had you a little confused. What was funny about that? When you voiced that thought, he tried to soften his statement, backpedalling a little in a way that amused you. “Sorry, it’s just… You are way out of his league. I mean that guy? He looks like every typical high school film jock who has muscles for brains. Like, does he have independent thought skills?” He said it like a joke, but you weren’t sure it was funny.

“James is really smart, actually. Always got top grades in school,” You replied, voice soft but determined.

“Oh, you guys went to school together? High school sweethearts?” Adam had totally changed his tune, maybe because he could see that you didn’t think insulting your boyfriend was entertaining. Still, you nodded brightly, choosing to believe the best in him.

“Yeah, we’ve been dating since I was fourteen! We’re going on four years.” You glowed with pride, eyes straying over to James, who was starting to notice where you were.

“So you’re fresh out of school, huh?” You nodded slowly, suddenly aware that he could be decades older than you. Well, maybe you were being a little dramatic.

“How old are you?” Adam was twenty-four, as he told you, which did surprise you slightly, though you tried not to let it show. In the real world, that’s not crazy, right? Maybe you were still adjusting to being out of Hogwarts.

“Hi, lovely, who are you talking to?” James approached you both, his hand snaking around your waist.

“This is Adam. We were just chatting.”

“Hey, mate.” They exchanged identical greetings, a strange tension growing.

“Your girlfriend’s just been raving about how great you are, mate. You’re a very lucky man.”

“I know,” James said, jaw tensing in a way that was equal parts concerning and sexy.

“Well, it was nice meeting you!” You chirped, pulling away to end the conversation now that James was beside you.

“Yeah, you too, honey. I hope we meet again soon.” You nodded after a slight pause, waving politely as James led you back to your comfort zone and your friends.

“Well, who knew little miss wifed-up still had it?” Remus laughed, giving you an impressed nod.

“Hey, I thought we all knew I was gorgeous,” You joked, tossing your hair dramatically, “But seriously, if I have it, I do not want it.”

It wasn’t until later that you’d met Adam again and struck up a friendship which eventually evolved into a relationship, beginning to bond right before the start of the demise of your and James’ relationship.

God, you felt like your world was beginning to crash down around you, memories you’d had locked away for years resurfacing the second you laid eyes on a corresponding memento.

Everything was too suffocating; you needed to get out. Stumbling around your room, you pulled on some outside clothes, lacing up your shoes as you hopped down the entryway.

Walking down the street, you immediately felt a bit calmer, the crisp air sending shocks through your system and bringing you back down to earth.

With a little more sense in your head, the reality of your feelings began to set in. Regardless of how satisfied you were with your current life, which was something you were simultaneously beginning to reconsider, you missed your old life. In particular, you missed your friends.

Though James was obviously a massive part of your life and dominated most of the souvenirs you’d held onto, you’d had the same friendship group for six years of school. They rounded out every memory, filled the time between classes at school, and helped shape you into who you’d become as you grew into adulthood.

And somehow, somewhere along the way, you’d lost contact with them. Obviously, you hadn’t caught up with James since the breakup (with the exception of the single most awkward interaction of your life) because you were so heartbroken and shattered, but you’d tried not to let it impact your friendships.

Sirius was the first to go, of course, just because he was so close to James, and the other boys followed not too long after, torn between the rift. The girls held on for a bit longer, and you would tentatively say you were still friends today, but the intervals between your catch-ups got longer and longer each time. No bitterness, at least on your part, but you were all busy leading different lives.

Suddenly, it clicked how long it really had been since you’d seen your friends, and how it had steadily declined ever since Adam. Maybe it was just because you were already emotionally distraught, but doubts began to creep in about Adam. The way he’d behaved even before your breakup, his refusal to hang out with your friends after, and insisting you hang out with his friends all the time despite them not really liking you. It felt like something was beginning to add up, but you weren’t sure how to finish the equation.

With shaking hands, you fished your phone out of your pocket, searching through your contacts for a number you hadn’t called in far too long.

“Hello?” The voice on the other side asked, gentle confusion evident.

“Lily?” You asked, voice wavering as relief washed over you at the familiarity.

“Are you okay? Is something wrong?” Lily asked immediately, the intricacies of your speech pattern coming back to her in an instant.

“Are you free to talk for a bit?”

“Um, yeah, of course! Remus is with me right now. Do you want to be on speaker? Or I can go into a different room.” You said it was fine, the desire to hear his voice overpowering in your heart.

“Hi, dove. Been a while,” He said softly, and you could see the expression he was making despite it being a voice call.

“Yeah, sorry,” You choked out, tears beginning to spill again. Without further ado, you began to spill everything. All of the conflicting thoughts and feelings that had stirred within you in the span of a single day. You told them about Adam rushing you to let him move in before you were maybe ready (you’d never said that out loud before), finding the box of memories you’d forgotten had even existed, and the deep, deep longing for the past you’d felt ever since.

When you were finally finished you’d cried out all the water left in your body, but you felt monumentally lighter, even if it was just because Lily and Remus at least knew how much you loved and missed them.

As you began to trail off, worries less prominent, your friends sat in silence on the other side of the line.

“Do you think I’m broken?” You asked, voice ragged from your monologue and the accompanying tears.

“I think,” Lily said, “You need to come over tonight.”

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nottysnake · 8 months ago

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like real lovers do

☆pairing: theodore nott x reader

★wc: 1.7k

☆genre: fluff, angst

★summary: theodore keeps getting into fights and you need to know why.

☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾

loud. that’s all your head could process with the boosted bass coming from the speakers in the middle of the slytherin common room.

“fuck, it stinks in here.” pansy says, sitting on my right. “mattheo threw the party this time. what do you expect, no weed?”i say. pansy snorts, “yeah right, he couldn’t last an hour without it, he’d ended up assaulting someone.” “that’s not true pans and you know it. that “someone” would be dead, not injured,” mattheo says, coming up from behind the couch we are sitting on, arm wrapped around theodore’s broad shoulders. i look up and see theo, finally seeing his face up close and not from across the room. “woah what the fuck happened to your face?” the flashing green lights can’t mask the big purple, swelling bruise forming on the bottom left of his jaw. i quickly sit up on my knees, turning to face theo while leaning against the back of the velvet dark green couch, courtesy of mr. malfoy.

i reach up and carefully place my hand on the unaffected side of theo’s jaw. it’s a nasty looking bruise, but all i can think about is how close i am to theo and the fact that the minty gum he is chewing is causing my mouth to water. “nothing.” he says while grabbing the palm of my hand. “liaaaaaar” pansy and matt say in unison. pansy gets up “alrighty, i’m not getting involved in this one, good luck nott.” she says while leaving, quickly making her exit. i narrow my eyes at theodore, who is currently smirking. mattheo unwraps his arm from theo’s shoulder. “as much as i like when you rip him a new one, i somehow always get yelled at too, so i am just gonna…” mattheo drifts off, leaving us, and the bruise, alone.

“why won’t you stop.” “stop what, piccolo?” his voice is raspy. i can now distinguish the faint smell of weed and firewhisky. he must’ve started chewing gum before they came up to us, he knows i hate firewhisky. my heart stops for a second and my eyes soften at the name he uses for me. he rounds the couch to sit on my right, never letting go of my hand. i shift towards him still on my knees, leaning towards his jaw to get a better look. “you can’t call me that when you’re in trouble” i say frowning. taking my hand back and placing them on my lap, looking down trying to figure out what to say. yeah, i get upset when matty gets hurt when he fights someone for talking shit during a quidditch match. or when draco and potter get into it for whatever merlinforsaken reason. but when it’s theo, it's completely different. my heart feels like it physically stops and my lungs stop working. my chest tightens and my eyes blur.

“what's wrong pico-”

“you know what’s wrong, i hate when you do this.” i whine. “it's too frequent now, you got detention for fighting with pucey the other day, you’re making them every week practically. your eye JUST healed and now you have to wait on your jaw to get better. i just don’t ge-” im swiftly cut off my being pulled into his side. maneuvering my legs to be splayed out over his instead of towards him. his left hand is now rubbing my back, while his other is holding my head, i close my eyes and sigh while i feel his lips against the top of my head “im sorry, baby” i lean in closer, finding shelter in the crook of his neck. “then tell me why, you never tell me what happens, just that you beat the shit out of these people and that you’re sorry. don’t i deserve more than that if you're gonna continue making this a habit and making me sad every time i see another mark on you?”

it's his turn to sigh now, “stop looking too much into it.”

with that, i get up from the very comfy and warm seat that is his lap, and walk away. weaving in and out of people who are very drunk and probably very high. i’m getting bumped into by people and the dress i am wearing, that is already very short, is getting slowly higher and higher due to the amount of dancing drunk idiots run into me, riding it up. i can hear theo telling people to fuck off or get the fuck out of the waymeaning he is catching up. however, i am able to weave in and out faster than him. reaching the stairs, i get ready to ascend the ones to the right which leads to the girls dormitories, but i am grabbed by the waist before i can even make the first step. i gasp and tense , but a quick look down confirmed it is theo by the watch he is wearing that i got him for christmas two years ago. dang it, he caught up.

i relax, letting him now lead me up the stairs on the left, probably to his dorm room. he is still behind me, and his arm is still around my waist. each step we take, the closer i feel his body on mine, and the more im hyperaware of it. “let me go” even though i really don’t want him to. “okay” he let me go, but once we made it to his room. he opened the door and guided me through. no one was in there, draco must’ve been with pansy. lorenzo and mattheo were probably drinking, and blaise was probably hooking up with some girl who he will fall in love with for the next week and then forgets exists the next. i’d bet accuracy on that one.

as he shuts the door behind us, he lets go of my waist. suddenly, it;s cold, and my mouth temporarily frowns before he turns me around to face him with his arms on my shoulder. he ducks down to look into my eyes, “i am sorry piccolo. i’m not sorry for doing it, but im sorry that i upset you when i do and i still do it knowin that. i just react.” his face is genuine and his words are slow, something that happens when he is telling the truth. “please tell me why, maybe i can help.” he closes his eyes for a second and then takes a deep breath. opening his eyes, he moves his hands to my face, cradling me like i'm the most precious thing in the world. “they deserved it. adrian was telling a couple of his blokes in the courtyard that he wanted to fuck you. he was saying all the vulagar things he would do to you and i heard it and i snapped,” he starts, breathing heavily “i didn’t even think, i just went at him. his lads got scared and left, but i knew who they were and whenever i saw them i just beat the fuck out of them for laughing at what he said. that’s what happened tonight. they all deserved it for fucking with you so im not gonna say sorry for giving them what they deserved.”

“you got hurt though”

“i’d get beat to the brink of death to defend you and make sure you're safe. i couldnt give a fuck less if i get hurt”

“but i do theo, i give a fuck!” i yell, my voice cracking while my tears start to well. his eyes widen, bringing me into a hug. his arms squeeze around me and i am home.

“smettila di piangere amore mio” (stop crying my love).”he whispers.

”i dont even know what that means” i muffle against his chest. his hands soothing me, leaving a trail of heat on their wake.

he chuckles, “why are you crying?”

i dig deeper into his chest, “i don’t want you to hurt. i don't want you bruised. i just want you to be okay. i get stressed whenever i think about you in any state of harm and it hurts my heart. i don't care what they were saying about me. they don't matter. you do”

i feel his lips on my forehead. “i care what they say about you. they cant just speak ill of what's mine. especially you, piccolo”. theo moves his arms to wrap around my waist once again. finding solace against him, i wrap mine around his shoulders. with instinct, theo starts to lift me and my legs find shelter around his hips. the bottom of the short black dress i wore to the party is surprisingly not exposing me, but i feel one of his hands position right under my thighs to stabilize myself against him as he moves us to his bed. he sits down against the headboard, now making it so i am sitting/laying atop him, arms still wrapped around his shoulders. “look at me” he whispers. i shake my head. “tesoro, look at me.” i sigh, tilting my head to comply. my eyes reach his, except they don't meet mine. i am looking at his eyes, while he is looking down, at my lips. i breathe shakily, and he copies.

“fuck it” and with that, he kisses me, and i am in heaven. he grabs my face, and i feel every emotion theo is feeling right now. All for me.

the kiss is sweet, not rough, like everything theodore nott embodies. theodore nott loves me, and i love him. and not like how best friends love each other. like real lovers do.

theo pulls away panting, and i open my eyes to meet his. “i love you piccolo. i love you and i won't let anyone speak of you like that. ever.” my heart swells at his confession.

“ i love you too theo.” i pause, then smirk. “if you really loved me, you wouldn’t get into more fights.”

ha, now he's backed in a corner.

my celebration is quickly turned into surprise as theo flips us, and my back collides with the soft mattress of his bed. he is leaning over me now,smirking, and my brain stops working. “shut up and let me kiss you as my apologies, i can get yelled at later. i want you now.” and so he does, and so i forget why he was in trouble. i just focus on his sweet lips on my lips, and i am euphoric.

#theodore nott #theo nott #theo nott x reader #slytherin #harry potter fluff #hogwarts #happy potter #draco malfoy #wizarding world #fluff #light angst #theodore nott fluff #theodore x you

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