THEOOOO!!!

THEOOOO!!!

What about me?

Pairing: Ex!Theodore Nott X Gn!Slytherin!Reader

Description: Theo confesses his feelings and mistakes to y/n. The only thing he didn't think about was them.

Warnings: None (let me know if i missed something)

Word count: 1.0k

࿔₊° ࿔₊° ࿔₊° ࿔₊° ࿔₊° ࿔₊° ࿔₊° ࿔₊° ࿔₊° ࿔₊° ࿔₊° ࿔₊° ࿔₊° ࿔₊° ࿔₊° ࿔₊°

You sat in the Slytherin common room. Chatting amongst your friends enjoying the last few days before the holiday break. Then there was a moment when everyone's attention diverted to something behind you. Your friend tapped on your shoulder and pointed towards the distraction. When you turned you saw your ex-boyfriend holding a bouquet of flowers walking towards the group of you.

“I’ll see you guys later.” You grabbed your things and walked towards your dorm. You hoped you could avoid any interaction with him. Especially seeing him give flowers to another person. A few minutes later you got a knock on your door.

You opened it to see Theo standing there holding the flowers out to you. “Can we talk?”

You crossed your arms across your chest, “I don't think that there is anything to talk about, Nott.”

“Please don't be like this. Please just listen to what I have to say and if you don't like it, I will leave.” You stood in the doorway debating on whether letting him speak would be worth all the pain it was sure to cause. “Please y/n.”

“Fine, but the instant I tell you to leave, you listen and don’t come back. Understood?”

“Yes. I understand.” You moved your body away from the door, allowing him to move into your room. As you went to close it behind him you could see all of your friends staring at you with wide eyes. You tried to ignore the warning their faces gave you as you turned back to face Theo. He sat on your bed looking just as perfect as he always had in your eyes.

You stared at each other for a moment before you decided to speak. “Did you just come here to stare at me?”

“No. I came here to say I’m sorry. I hate the way we left things and I need you in my life now more than ever. I love you, y/n, and I’m sorry it took me so long to say it.” Those last words hurt, unlike anything. All of the fights, the breakup, nothing hurt more than those three words.

As many times as you had said them to him and silently begged him to say them back he never did. No matter how many fights those words arose, no matter how much those words meant to you they obviously didn’t mean enough for Theo to say them back.

“No.” You shook your head back and forth. “No.”

Theo stood from his spot on your bed and took a few steps toward you. “What do you mean ‘no’?”

“No Theo. You don’t get to say that to me now. I waited months for you to say that to me. Months. Now all of a sudden you love me? I wanted you to say it in your own time. I wanted you to say it but only if you felt that way for me but this is just incredibly selfish. Did you ever once think about how this would affect me? Did you ever think that I was just getting over it? Did you ever think about me at all?”

“I-I did. I thought about you all the time. It was a mistake ever and I mean ever letting you slip away from me. I meant those words. I would shout it across the world if that’s what it would take for you to believe me.”

You stood staring at him in disbelief. “When you came up with this idea to tell me that you love me did you ever take my feelings into consideration? Did you ever think that this would hurt me more than you not saying it?”

For a moment he didn’t speak. He just stood there with an unreadable expression on his face. The feeling of your heartache was tearing through your body. It was the same as the day things ended between the two of you.

“I guess I didn’t. I truly hoped you felt the same way for me as I do for you. I lo-”

“Don’t. Just don't Theo. I was finally moving on. I was finally finding the worth in myself again.”

“I’m sorry y/n. I truly am. I just thought maybe I could fix it. I thought- No. I hoped that you still felt those feelings strongly enough that I could get you back. Letting you go was one of the most stupid things I could have ever done and I’m sorry.”

You took in his words. Letting them sink in. You let the feelings you had for him out of their cage in your heart. Feeling them more than ever. Then tears began pooling in your eyes. As you tried to blink them back they rolled down your cheeks.

Worry covered Theo’s previous expression as he walked closer to you. “Please don't cry, darling. Don't cry because of me. I hate to see you in pain. Regardless of if we are together or not, I care about you more than anyone else and if it were possible to take all of the pain I’ve caused away from you, I would in a heartbeat.”

A knock on the door distracted the both of you from the most intimate moment the two of you had since the breakup. You quickly wiped the tears from your eyes and turned around to open the door.

“Sorry to interrupt, but y/n one of the Weasleys is here to see you. I told him he had to wait though. I wanted to make sure you were up for visitors.”

“I- um-” You started to find an excuse before Theo interrupted you.

“No interruption. I was just leaving. So y/n I’ll see you around?” He asked before extending his arms for a small hug. When he pulled away he looked at you with a halfhearted smile.

“Yeah. You will.” You let out a small smile at the tall bronze haired boy as he once again walked out of your life. A part of you wanted him to stop. You wanted to hold him, kiss him, and to be his but you knew that you were both better off without the strain of one another and it is okay. Or at least it will be because time heals all things, even the things that hurt the most.

Taglist: @hs-is-loml @fanfictioniseverything

@sunshinexweasley @squishytomatoes @hvgwartss

Hit The Bottom

Pairing: TASM!Peter Parker x fem!reader

Warnings: suggestive sex, aged up characters

Summary: you got a bottom locker and Peter is the person who has the locker above you, now he always calls you 'bottom', though you have repeatedly told him you are most certainly not.

A/n- happy new year! so, last night I was just rewatching TASM, and this is just a short drabble. enjoy!!

“Looks like I’ve to hit the bottom…”

To any passing pair of ears, this would have sounded like a normal college guy with an ample of motivation for the day ahead. But, of course, you knew better.

Cowering your hand inside your locker (which, surprises, happened to be the bottom one of Peter Parker), you pretended to be rummaging Zeus’ lightning bolt yourself, having every mind to just slip off his daily addressal.

And of course, you couldn’t do that. The next second, you turned, your sneakers doing a total 360 degree rotation, and you came face to face with Peter, the skateboard slung along with his shoulder bag, the camera held in his hands with a pretty sweet smile.

“Good morning, bottom.”

“No, more like, I’ve to hit the top’s face away?”

“Hey!” he protested, still smiling. “That was a poem!”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.”

You flashed your palms in a threatening manner as he patted you on the head. “Aunt Mae is going to her friend today evening.”

“Nice?” You chided back. “I hope she drags you too.”

Peter waved his arms as if he was doing jujitsu. “No, I was planning to invite you…yeah.”

You choked back a real choke on air, as you turned to him with ‘and-why-would-i-come’ expression. “I’m definitely not coming.”

“Aww, bottom’s scared.”

“I’m not scared!” Throwing a book on him (he caught it, no idea how), you stomped your feet like a cross between a spoiled child and a murderous bull. “And I most certainly am not a bottom!!”

“I bet you are,” still smirking, he placed his skateboard on the floor.

“I’ll prove it I’m not!” You felt your face grow warm and ears turning a perfect shade of hot red as he held back a grin and leaned towards you.

“Wanna bet?”

You knew, that was a seductive, silly, hot, half headed thing he said. Ignoring the weird backflips and the way your heart and stomach wanted to exchange their positions, you stuck your nose high in the air, scoffing at him.

“Bet, it is.”

His hickory brown eyes did a little shimmer dance, as he stood back, and mock saluting at you with two fingers, actually shouted from across the corridor.

“IF I WIN, YOU HAVE GOT THAT NAME, AND IF YOU WIN, I’D MAKE YOU A BOTTOM ANYWAY!”

Wait, fuck, you rubbed you face furiously with a stupid smile, you will have to win anyway.

istg your writing >>>

Something Human (tasm!PeterParker x Reader)

Summary: “You look so cute when you’re wet,” Peter laughed and you couldn’t help but to join in, only imagining how much of a mess the two of you appeared, soaked to the bone and dishevelled; bags under your eyes, a badge of honour for two grad students nearing the end of another semester of essays, exams, and lab research. “I’m literally going to die of hypothermia,” you retorted. “Well then we should get you out of those clothes,” Peter stated matter-of-factly as the elevator doors closed. — or, the one where you at Peter get caught in the rain Words: 2.4k A/N: established relationship; cursing; so much sexual innuendo; nudity; oral sex (fem!receiving); part 1 of 2 because it'd be cruel not to... Also I actually love this one, so I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it.

The air was alive with electricity, the taste of ozone thick on your tongue as you hurried home from the library, backpack heavy with textbooks and essays you needed to mark for the undergraduate course you were TA-ing for. Overhead, unforgiving clouds, towering and grey, promised a deluge of raging wind and rain. There was a strange atmosphere of anticipation as you and your boyfriend wove through the crowds of New Yorkers and tourists alike, most already beginning to open their umbrellas.

You felt the first thick drop splash onto the tip of your nose and barely had time to consider it before the sky opened up into a powerful torrent, something almost apocalyptic.

“Shit, Y/N!” You heard Peter call out to you over a rumbling clap of thunder, “Let’s go!”

You’d already been hurrying, hand clasped in Peter’s as he towed you along the sidewalk you canvas sneakers soaked through from where they dashed through rapidly forming puddles.

By the time you reached your building, four blocks away, you truly understood the meaning of the word drenched. Rain pooled in your socks, ran between your shoulder blades, and made your hair stick to your face despite the fact that Peter had given you his hoodie and you’d had it pulled up. In the air-conditioned lobby, waiting for the elevator, you felt a chill settling in and shifted closer to Peter whose hair hung limp and dripping around his ears.

“You look so cute when you’re wet,” Peter laughed and you couldn’t help but to join in, only imagining how much of a mess the two of you appeared, soaked to the bone and dishevelled; bags under your eyes, a badge of honour for two grad students nearing the end of another semester of essays, exams, and lab research.

“I’m literally going to die of hypothermia,” you said, happy to hear the ding of the elevator, the pneumatic hiss of doors sliding open. You both stepped inside, Peter pressing the button to take you up to the fifth floor of what had been a six-story walk-up—until the building super had finally fixed the elevator last month. Admittedly, you preferred the stairs, but the elevator was still a novelty that you were going to indulge in for the foreseeable future.

“Well then we should get you out of those clothes,” Peter stated matter-of-factly as the elevator doors closed, grinning when you turned around to stick your tongue out at him. He returned your expression with a wiggle of his eyebrows and you shook your head.

“The one day I didn't check the weather,” you sighed, “And the universe decides to storm with a vengeance.”

“Don’t lie,” Peter teased, “You never check the forecast. It’s why I’m missing so many of my sweaters.” He stared pointedly at the one you wore now, dark green and with wrists threadbare from where Peter’s frenetic fingers had pulled at the fabric.

“Do you want this one back?” you asked teasingly as the elevator bumped to a stop at your floor. Peter looked at you with darkened eyes, something covetous tugging at the corners of his lips as he pressed you into the elevator doors.

“I told you I wanted to get you out of—”

The doors slid open behind you, sending you spilling out into the hallway. You might have stumbled over the elderly woman you recognized as Mrs. Dorsey from three doors down from you if Peter hadn’t caught you round the waist, pulling you up and away from your almost-scandalized looking neighbour. No doubt she’d had some inkling as to what Peter had been about to say. As it was, he nodded politely at her and you imagined that if he was wearing a hat, he’d tip it in her direction.

“Afternoon Mrs. Dorsey,” he greeted her with sweetness like honey in his words, “It’s a mess out there, so be careful.”

“You kids be careful too,” Mrs. Dorsey said lightly, a knowing lilt in her voice, as she stepped into the elevator and you gaped as the doors closed behind her.

“Did she just—?” you shook your head in disbelief.

“I think she did,” Peter laughed, “Who knew that Old Mrs. Dorsey was a flirt?”

“Oh god, Peter,” you cringed, “I help the woman clean her apartment twice a week, please don’t.”

“Okay, okay, sorry.” Peter put his hands up in mock surrender as you fished around in your backpack for the key to your front door, still dripping water onto the carpeted hallway floor. Peter was quicker than you, pulling the key you’d given him a year into your relationship from his keyring in his back pocket and opening the door for you.

“Ladies first,” he grinned, eliciting another eye roll from you as you kicked off your sneakers and unshouldered your backpack. Behind you, Peter did the same. As he closed the door behind him, latching it out of habit, a silence fell between you, eyes meeting across the cramped entryway of your one-bedroom.

“I mopped yesterday,” you said quietly, blinking under the intensity of Peter’s stare, “It’d be a shame to dirty the floors.” A lopsided grin lit up your boyfriend’s face as he took a step closer to you. Despite the cold dampness that had seeped into your bones, you could feel heat radiating off his body, see fire ignited in his eyes. His expressiveness gave you pause, that beautiful way he reacted so passionately to everything was one of the things that had attracted you to him in the first place. He was so real, so very human, and the great irony of it was that he was so much more than that as well.

Peter’s fingers tugging down the zipper of your borrowed hoodie drew you back into the present moment. If he’d said something clever in response to your innuendo—which he most certainly did because he could never help himself—you hadn’t heard it, distracted by the rising of your heartbeat you felt pulsing in your ears.

You allowed him to unzip the sweater fully before you shrugged out of it and your hands moved to the hem of his t-shirt, a soaked through cotton piece in a deep blue colour that you loved on him.

“Off,” you said, lifting his shirt to reveal his lean, muscled abdomen. There were a few faded marks decorating his otherwise smooth skin—physical recollections of last night’s Spider-Man exploits under the cover of a mask and the neon-sprayed darkness of New York.

“As you wish,” Peter whispered, helping you remove his shirt, sliding it over his head as you watched the waterlogged fabric cling to his skin, the droplets trickling down the plane of his chest. He caught you staring and smirked. “I’d tell you to take a picture, but I think you already have a few.”

“Shut up,” you giggled, “If I was dying of hypothermia, I’m so glad you’d run your mouth off instead of helping me.”

“Oh, Y/N,” he licked his lips, “I’d help you in a heartbeat.” True to his word, Peter was pressed up against you in an instant, his hands pulling your t-shirt over your head, tossing it aside to land with a watery squelch somewhere on the tiles. Your shorts were next, his thumb and forefinger expertly flicking the button open and his free hand guiding them down your hips. You shimmied the rest of the way out of them, pulling off your socks as you stepped out of the denim pooled at your feet.

Peter’s eyes ran over your body as your own hands moved to the waistband of his jeans, unclasping his belt with practiced ease and following your own movements, allowing your knees to sink down to the floor as you pulled his pants off the rest of the way, making space for him to step out of them.

You glanced up at him then, blinking innocently before you placed a kiss over his boxers on the place where they bulged away from his body. You slid a hand up the leg opening of his underwear, nails scraping against his thigh until you felt his cock twitch under where your lips still rested over it.

“Y/N,” Peter whispered, his hands coming down to tangle in your damp hair before moving to your shoulders to guide you back up to standing. He pulled you close, one hand resting on the back of your head, the other on your hip, holding you tight. His lips found yours, kissing you just the way you liked—softly at first, but with a fervour that told you he was holding back. You dipped your head to the side, allowing him access to your neck, moaning softly as his teeth scraped over your pulse point and he licked his way back to your jaw.

“Bedroom,” you mumbled, noting the thick lust that was layered in your voice. Peter nodded, taking your hand and pulling you to the very back of your apartment, to the bedroom he often shared with you, especially on nights when he returned after being called away to be more than Peter Parker, drawn away from the warmth of your bed and your arms and your body to save the city before coming back and allowing himself to be just human again.

Your bedroom was a mess, you knew that. Littered with empty coffee cups and study notes, laundry piles you’d been neglecting and a half-finished knitting project on the chair in the corner. But you didn’t care because Peter had seen worse from you, holding your hair back when you got too drunk at your birthday party last year or standing beside you and drying your tears when grant applications for your research were denied.

Your knees hit the back of the bed and you sank into a seated position there, suddenly very aware of the dampness gathering in your cotton underwear, the desperate need for friction between your heated thighs. Peter was dropping to his knees between your legs and you felt your heart flutter with anticipation because he was nothing if not a selfless lover.

“Thought I got you out of all those wet clothes at the front door,” he said, voice low as he pressed two fingers gently against your core, causing your back to arch.

“Guess you missed something,” you replied lightly, your teeth pinching your bottom lip to keep in a moan as he added a bit more pressure.

“Hm,” Peter frowned playfully, “You’re just too distracting.” He kissed each of your knees and trailed his way up your legs, every so often pausing to nibble on the sensitive spots of your inner thighs, spots he knew like the back of his own hand. “Lay down,” he instructed.

You obliged, lowering yourself onto your elbows so you could watch as he hooked a finger through your underwear, glancing up at you quickly. You nodded your permission, allowing him to continue pulling your panties off with aching slowness.

“Like I said,” Peter smiled up at you, clearly enjoying the lewd keenness etched onto your face, “You look cute when you’re wet.”

“Fuck y—” you began to curse at him, but were cut off by the feeling of his lips kissing you gently at your center. Your head fell back, eyes closing of their own accord as Peter tentatively kissed you again, soft open-mouthed kisses at the apex of your thighs before he slid his tongue along your core, humming with delight. His name fell from your lips as he slipped his tongue inside you then. Every inch of your body long-since memorized, he found your clit quickly and lightly lapped at it, making you buck your hips up towards him and giving him an opportunity to slip one hand under your hips to hold you up. His arm wasn’t even shaking with the added effort, goddamn superhuman strength.

As his tongue continued to work figure-8 motions inside you, his other hand slid down to rub your thighs gently before he slipped a finger inside you making you groan with abandon—it would have been embarrassing had you not known how much Peter liked to hear you. His finger gradually curled inside you, stroking you gently as he continued to lap at you with his tongue, finding and steadying his rhythm and pace in mere moments. Your hands wanted to be everywhere on him, but your arms weren’t quite long enough to make that a reality so you settled for clutching at your bedsheets as you whimpered his name.

“Peter,” you sighed, feeling the tension in the pit of your stomach coil tightly, “I’m—”

A familiar shrill—and currently unwelcome—chiming sounded from the entryway. The fucking Spider-Signal, that cell phone Peter had set up so the NYPD could reach him at a moment’s notice. You clenched your eyes shut as Peter’s tempo faltered, distracted by the sound. To his credit, he quickly recovered, finding his way back into the pattern that had been building you toward something mind blowing, but the moment had passed. Peter felt the shift in your body language and his face reappeared from between your legs, a frustrated groan leaving his lips.

“Fuck, Y/N—Fuck!”

“It’s okay,” you assured him, wiggling into a seated position and trying to still your beating heart. “Just make sure whoever cock-blocked me pays for it, yeah?” You opened your arms and beckoned him toward you, allowing his head to fall against your chest.

“I’ll make it up to you,” he promised, and you nodded because you knew he would. Peter stood and sighed, glancing down with a look of defeat at you.

“Be careful,” you warned and this time Peter nodded, both of you knowing that he was always careful, always focused on coming home to you.

“I’ll see you soon, ladybug,” he said, kissing the top of your head before heading toward the bedroom door, toward the backpack carrying his secret identity he’d left by your front door. He paused briefly, turning to you with a smirk. “And no getting off without me, okay?”

You placed a hand over your chest, the other coming up open-palmed beside your face. “Scout’s honour,” you grinned, “I’ll be waiting for you.”

My Girl, My Love | d.m. x reader

Summary: Draco wants to keep your relationship a secret when you’re new to Hogwarts because he doesn’t want people to make assumptions about you based on his reputation. But he’s a bit too in love to keep it a secret.

Warnings: none, it’s just lots of fluff

Word count: ~2.9k

a/n: how I’ve missed writing full length fics. I’m actually very pleased with how this one turned out hehe. This is part of the “Harry Potter Writing Event”. Make sure to check out other writers’ fics as well from the event!

Reblogs and comments are always appreciated!

➯ masterlist | tag list

———————————————————————

You walk fast through the corridors of Hogwarts. Portion with Slughorn is your first class ever at Hogwarts—but you’re already late for that.

It isn’t your fault, as it is challenging to find the right turn. Many of these corridors look the same. It isn’t your fault either that you transferred to Hogwarts mid-semester and a couple of years later than the students in your year.

But you’re happy. You can finally be closer to where your heart belongs.

“I’m so sorry, professor! I couldn’t find the right classroom”, you say when you open the door and have everyone’s eyes on you.

“You must be miss y/l/n! Glad to have you in class. Please take a seat”, professor Slughorn says.

You grab the closest seat as you don’t want to drag any more attention to you. You look around for the one pair of familiar eyes. And indeed, you find them, sitting in the back with his friends.

He gives you a small smile only you to note, but his eyes show that he’s happy to see you here.

After the class, you stay behind to apologise once again for your lateness. Professor Slughorn is not bothered at all that you were late. He understands that it’s easy to walk in the wrong direction in these corridors when you’re new to the school.

So when you walk out of the classroom, you feel someone pulling your arm and dragging you around a corner. His arms slung around you in a tight hug.

“I’ve missed you”, he mumbles into your neck.

“I’ve missed you too. But I’m finally here now”, you say as you hug him tightly back.

He let you go but still rest his left arm on the wall behind you. His right arm strokes your cheek.

“Hi, Draco!” you say with a happy voice. Instant, a smile spread across his face.

“I love when you say my name, y/n.”

The way he says your name always makes you blush, which Draco finds adorable.

“School has been talking about you. You’re the topic of the year”, Draco says and kisses you on the other cheek that he’s not stroking.

“Why?”, you ask a bit worried.

“It’s not too often someone starts mid-term and also years later. Then because of your family also. And of course that you’re breathtaking. It somehow makes people talk”, he chuckles and gives you another kiss, but this time on the lips.

“Are you sure you want to keep this a secret? I wouldn’t mind letting everyone know that you’re my boyfriend”, you say when you break from your kiss.

Draco looks at you a little bit sad. He wants everyone to know that you’re his and he’s yours. He wants to tell everyone how proud he’s of his girlfriend. How kind and beautiful she’s. But he couldn’t be selfish—he didn’t want to drag you down with his reputation before you even got a chance.

“Yes, I’ve got a not so good reputation here, and I don’t want that to affect you. I want everyone to see how beautiful and kind your heart and brain are before they make any assumptions.”

“I wouldn’t care what anyone else expects for your thoughts about me. I don’t care about any reputation. I know how your heart is, and that’s what I fell for.”

Draco smiles. He knows that. He always knew that. He knows where you have him and where he has you.

However, you two ended up keeping your relationship a secret.

ϟ

And indeed, is Draco right that you’re the topic of the year at the school. As soon as you walk into the Great Hall alone, it feels like everyone stops doing what they were doing. Eyes are on you—the new girl.

You feel very insecure about it. You look around and meet with too many eyes. But only a pair of those eyes make you feel calmer, and that’s Draco’s eyes.

Draco looks worried at you. Maybe this is a bad idea to let you get into this alone. He stands up and is going to trash the idea of having a secret relationship. He feels that he need to be there for you.

But when he’s about to take the first step over to you, he sees Hermione walking towards you.

“You can sit with us if you want to”, Hermione says to you. You nod your head and walks towards her table, where she’s sitting with her friends.

Draco calms down as he sees you’re not alone anymore. Maybe Granger is not so bad, he thought.

“Draco, what are you doing standing up?” Pansy asks, confused. Draco looks around his table and sees that all his friends are looking at him now.

“I—” he says but sits down again. Not sure what to say.

“It almost looked like you were going to go to the new girl—” Blaise chuckles.

“I thought so too! But she’s Draco’s type so that I wouldn’t blame him”, Theo added in with a chuckle.

Draco, who rarely blushes, is blushing now. And that’s something his friends notice. He would be good at lying to anyone else, except for his close friends and you.

“Draco, do you have anything to tell us?” Pansy asks with a raised eyebrow.

“You have to keep this as a secret”, Draco says.

ϟ

It feels good that after lunch, you made some friends. You had been sitting and eating with Hermione, Ron, and Harry. They all were very kind to you. They had told you that you could sit whenever you wanted with them.

You are now on your way to your next class. As usual, you’re a bit lost in the corridors.

“Hey, new girl!” you hear someone shout for you. You don’t recognise the voice.

When you turn around you see a girl and a boy walking towards you. You recognise them from sitting with Draco earlier. They must be his friends, you think.

“She does have a name—” the girl says to the boy before she turns to you.

“Hi, y/n!” she says, smiling.

“Hi!” you say, confused and not sure why they approach you.

“We heard about you stole our friend’s little heart”, the boy says and put his arm around your shoulders and starts to guide you to the classroom you’re supposed to be in.

You’re unsure of what to say as you and Draco had decided to keep it a secret.

“Don’t worry y/n, Draco told us during lunch”, the girl says and lightly grabs your arm as you all kept on walking.

“We’re friends of Draco. I’m Pansy, and this is Blaise”, Pansy continues.

“Oh, that’s right. I’ve heard about you”, you say when you realise that Draco had on many occasions brought up his friends in conversations with you. Somehow you felt a bit relaxed and happy that they’re Draco’s friends and know about you.

“Yeah, and he didn’t tell us about you until today—” Blaise sighs over his friend being so enclosed with his life sometimes.

“But don’t worry, we keep your little thing a secret until you’re ready”, Blaise playfully winked.

“Or more likely when Draco is ready not to be so worried about everything. I think you two look cute and can’t wait for you to make it public”, says Pansy before you’re at the entrance of the classroom you’re supposed to be in.

“How did you know, or are you also taking this class?” you ask them both.

“Your boyfriend told us you can get a bit lost. And he also has your schedule. So don’t worry y/n, we got you!” Pansy says as she starts to walk back with Blaise.

“See you around y/n!” Blaise shout.

ϟ

A few weeks later, you’re sitting in the library to study. You see Draco and Theo, and you decide to sit at the table beside them—perfect for you to see him and for Draco to see you.

As you sit down, you see Draco looking at you happily. You smile at him, and Theo looks up to see what Draco is distracted by.

And, of course, it’s by you. Theo is not surprised. He chuckles for himself and turns back his attention to the book—knowing very well that his friend lost his attention entirely to the book they have to study.

You smile as you stare back at him. Draco could stare at you all day as you look like art for his eyes.

But his art is interrupted by someone else. Cedric Diggory takes the seat beside you. Draco’s face switches into an unpleasant expression.

“Hi, y/n!” Cedric says to you as he sits down.

“Oh, hi!” you say, unsure what he wants. You look over quickly at Draco, giving him an uncertain look. You see how he stares at both of you. Cedric notices but doesn’t think more of it.

“What are you doing?” he instead asks you smilingly.

“I’m reading so I can finish up the assignment in Transfiguration. How can I help you?” you ask politely.

All you want is for Cedric to leave so you could go back to stare at your boyfriend.

“I wanted to ask you—” Cedric starts to say and put his hand on yours that is resting on the table.

“If you wanted to go to Hogsmeade with me this weekend?” he has hope in his eyes—you could see it.

“No, I got plans,” you say and take away your hand and stands up to leave the library. It had made you uncomfortable, and you do have plans with Draco.

Draco would always sneak you into his dorms during the weekends when everyone is out in Hogsmeade. You two would stay there and cuddle while telling how much you love each other.

Without looking back, you walk out of the library. Cedric is still sitting by the table but alone now. He isn’t sure how you had said no right away. Before asking you, he was pretty sure that you would say yes.

Draco heard your conversation and saw how uncomfortable you had become. He isn’t pleased with how Cedric acted.

Without thinking, he stands up and walks towards Cedric. Theo looks up and looks amused to see what his friend is about to do.

“Diggory!” Draco says and takes the seat that you just had been seated at.

“Malfoy”, Cedric says shortly.

“I would appreciate it if you don’t ask my girlfriend out again and don’t put your hand on her. I don’t like it when you make her feel uncomfortable”, Draco says with an annoyed tone.

“Your girlfriend?” Cedric asks, confused.

“Yes, my girlfriend y/n.”

“Your y/n’s boyfriend—” Cedric starts to laugh.

Somehow it sounds nice for Draco to hear him being addressed as your boyfriend—he likes it even if Cedric is laughing.

“Yes, I’m her boyfriend. So please back off!” Draco says with a death stare.

Cedric stops laughing and puts up his hand to show that he got the memo.

ϟ

You and Draco try to hang out as much as possible. It’s not always easy as you still keep your relationship a secret.

Draco would always wait for you after classes and drag you to an abandoned part of the corridor.

“You look so beautiful today. Did you get my letter this morning?” Draco asks as he gives you a soft kiss on the lips.

“Yes, and it made my morning.”

Every morning, Draco would let his owl deliver a handwritten love-letter for you. It always contains sweet words that are just reserved for you.

“Good! I’ve missed you like crazy”, he says and kisses you again.

You chuckle, “You said that yesterday as well”.

“It’s only because I miss you every time I’m not with you”, Draco chuckles.

You stare into his eyes and say, “I miss you too!”

As the break is about to end, you have to make your way to your next class. You say goodbye to Draco and kiss him before running to your next class.

Draco stands there and sees you run off. He smiles and still feels the feeling of your soft lips on his.

“Guess we caught the biggest news in school. What do you think, George?” Draco suddenly hears from behind him. He turns around to see the Weasley twins.

“I think we caught the biggest news, Fred”, George says, pleased.

Draco looks at the twins in panic. They had seen him and you being together and kissing.

“What do you mean?” Draco tries to play dumb, in case they didn’t see.

“You and y/n—”, Fred starts to say.

“Kissing in secret”, George ends the sentence.

Dracos sighs, knowing very well that he can’t make it out with any lies.

“We’re dating, but can you please not tell anyone” Draco begs.

“What do you think, Fred?” George says.

“Fine, but it cost”, Fred says and crosses his arms.

“Exactly what I thought”, George says with a grin and high-five his brother.

Draco sigh, “What do I have to do?”

“Buy some of our products”, the twins say simultaneously.

ϟ

It was Draco’s idea to keep your relationship a secret. But it isn’t going too well. He had told, by now, many people that you two are dating.

His whole quidditch team knows that because he had sneaked off with you before the match for you to give him a good luck kiss.

His captain Marcus had pushed him to tell where he had been, and even if he made up something, Marcus didn’t believe him until he told the captain about you. It ended with Marcus telling the whole team.

Luna had also been too observant of how Draco acts. And then had she asked Draco, after she noted that every time you two passed each other in the corridors, your hands would sneakily brush each other’s.

It was something that Draco likes to do. He would, however, if he could walk down the corridor hand in hand with you.

After Luna asked Draco, he had confessed that you two are dating. Somehow it’s effortless for him to tell everyone that you’re dating. Maybe he’s proud and too in love with you, that makes him say it. It does sound nice when he says it; has he thought of it.

Even the golden trio know that by now. It happened last week when you was send to the hospital wing because you had fallen from the stairs. It was nothing major, but you had to have a check-up to be sure.

When Draco heard that you were in the hospital wing, he ran right away to there. But Hermione, Ron, and Harry were standing in front of the door to the hospital wing.

You have become close friends with Hermione after your first encounter at lunch in Great Hall. But still, she didn’t know about Draco.

“Not now, Malfoy”, had Harry said, stopping Draco from entering as he thought you wanted some privacy.

“Move, Potter!” Draco demanded. He’s worried about you, so he’s even more annoyed than usual with Harry.

“Why do you even have to go in there now?” Hermione sighed.

“Because my girlfriend is injured and inside there. I’ve got to see her”, Draco said with an annoyed tone.

They all looked at him, confused.

“The only one in there is y/n”, Ron said.

“Yes, it’s y/n who’s my girlfriend. Can you all please move aside?!”

As confused as they are, they moved aside for Draco to slam open the door. They stand by the door to see if this could even be true.

“Draco!” you said excited, happy to see him.

“Love, how are you?” he asked with a worried voice as he walked towards you to give a hug.

“Don’t worry. I’m fine. Just a bit clumsy”, you chuckled.

Your three friends stood at the entrance, confused about what they just had witnessed.

ϟ

So when you sit in the Great Hall for breakfast, you feel someone take a seat beside you. The smell of the too-familiar cologne makes you very surprised—Draco is sitting beside you.

“Hi darling!” he says without trying to be quiet.

You look at him, not sure what he’s doing. In the Great Hall would everyone have the best view to see what’s happening between the two of you.

“Draco, what are you doing?” you whispered, in case Draco had forgotten to keep your relationship a secret.

But Draco didn’t care about that now. “I might have already told too many people about you and me—”

Now you’re looking at him even more confused than before.

“And I’m too in love with you to not hang out with you all the time. So can we please make it not a secret anymore? If you’re comfortable with it”, Draco says and takes your hand in his.

“Draco, I never wanted to keep it a secret. So why would I want it now” you say with a smile—not whispering anymore.

Draco leans into a kiss, and you’re for the first time kissing openly at school. Some people are surprised about you two, but the ones who know about this already are cheering.

When you break the kiss, Draco turns around to everyone and proudly and happily says, “This is my girl, my love!

———————————————————————

tag list: @sycathorn-slush @desiredmalfoy @yiamalfoy @im-constantly-fangirling @gwlvr @vrrxn @hufflemoony @littlemissnoname13 @sunkissedfae @dracoscum @riddlesia @mrs-brekker15 @magicchai @theclandestinestars @arcanesdawn @cpetrova @ameliasbitvh @velvetcloxds @dracoslittlesunflower @arcaneofdawn @jochim322 @msfandomfreak @harmqnia @supersasswillobserve @peaky-potter @dracossweetprincess @mattheoswhore @slythermuf @miyunikirii @wingedjellyfishrebel @haroldpotterson @miraclesoflove @cupids-crystals @dilf-lover21 @daedreamss @dlmmdl @pinkcloxds @havenchy @drxylvr @crowsandquills @ferretboysupremacy @blue-4-55-readinglist @wlfstxr @ildm4ev @weaselbrownie @useless-n-clueless @krxkathy @biya0622 @hqtetsurou @uwiuwi — [if your username is crossed over, please check your privacy settings as I can’t find you when tagging]

FANTASTIC

— INTO THE BLOGOSPHERE.

pairing: tasm!peter parker x female reader

summary: peter’s crush is now his chem partner. complicated? not until he finds her blog dedicated to a certain masked vigilante.

warnings: swearing, mild violence, peter being an idiot, reader being an idiot, shitty writing

author’s note: as requested by anon a while ago! please excuse the terrible writing, i did this on no hours of sleep. happy reading! - ni x

Peter didn’t mean to look at your laptop.

He swears it was a complete accident that he found your blog, but really isn’t it your fault that you left it open?

In fact, he can’t feel too guilty because you did say he could use it to search whatever he needed for your joint project while you went to go find your notebook. Well, that reason and the fact he feels like he’s going to be sick.

Peter isn’t too surprised. Because, of course, it’s just his luck that his Chemistry partner and crush since forever has a Spider-Man blog. Not only that, but he knows you. In the least stalkerish way possible, especially considering he doubts you even knew his name before you were partnered up. You’ve been partners for the whole academic year thus far, so he can say you’re definitely on a friend level. But he would be lying if he said he hadn’t noticed you before that. He knows that you volunteer for everything, you’re always doing something or other for charity, always pinning up petitions to the notice boards and asking people for signatures with your bright and cheerful disposition.

Shit, if he wasn’t Spider-Man, Peter would be ashamed at his lack of charity work compared to you!

So, really, he can’t be surprised that you’re a fan of Spider-Man. He helps people, so obviously you have a blog dedicated to posting think pieces about the guy. The guy being him.

The thought makes him smile before he snaps out of it, realising you don’t even know that side of him.

And for that he has to be a little grateful, Peter thinks to himself as his spidey senses thankfully pick up your footsteps and he jumps back onto the bed. A couple seconds later you bound into your room, blowing your hair out of your eyes and offering an apologetic smile that almost blinds him, because it’s literally like the goddamn sun itself.

Keep reading

glad to know i made your day!! i can’t think of any idea right now, but it would be nice to see something based on that trending audio of andrew talking about emma stone and defining her as “a shot of espresso and being bathed in sunlight” or something around that, honestly anything you come up with i’m sure it’ll be lovely!! <3

— diary | p.p

“She’s like a shot of espresso...”

includes: tasm! Peter Parker

summary: you accidentally find Peter Parker’s diary

notes: a request from a lovely anon

i genuinely made myself laugh while writing this so i hope it makes you lovely readers laugh too LMAO

ALSO BIG FAT SHOUTOUT TO @scandalous-chaos FOR EDITING ILOVEU

Peter Parker was not the kind of person to have a diary.

Or so you thought.

You had some suspicions he may have one, starting from the time you were helping him organize his room and he was extremely against you sorting through the stack of journals in the corner of his room.

And on top of that, he was overly defensive.

So defensive as in he chucked threw something at your face every single time you even glanced in the general direction of them.

You pointed an accusing finger at him. “Peter, look, we’re best friends, I can handle the truth. Are they porn?”

“No?? What the fu—”

The next time was when you asked to borrow a journal that was on his desk to rip out a piece of scratch paper. He shot a web at the book and slingshotted it back into his grasp right as you laid a single finger on it, sputtering some half-assed excuse like it was ‘Aunt May’s precious recipe book.’

Bullshit.

You could see right through him, but honestly, you could care less. What you did care about was finishing your stupid english final. You reached for another journal but he snatched it away even faster than the first one, much to your displeasure.

“Can I use this one?” You pointed to yet another notebook as he shook his head in disapproval.

Now to a purple one. “This?”

“No.”

“This one?”

“No.”

“What about this one?”

“Wait here, use this.” He digs through the desk drawer that he had already cluttered up again (even though you had reorganized it three days ago), pulling out a stack of post-it notes. He tossed them your way.

You deadpan. “These are post-it notes.”

“Clearly.” He hums, shrugging.

“Neon pink ones.”

“Uh yeah—” He shuffled through more clutter in his desk, “but I have orange or yellow ones too, if you’d like.”

“These are… bright neon pink.”

“Now I’m convinced you’re just stating obvious facts.”

“Peter.”

He turns to face you. “Yes?”

“How the hell am I supposed to turn in a four-paged english essay FOR OUR FINAL on pink post-it notes?”

He shrugged again. “I dunno. Magic maybe?”

The most recent and suspicious time was when he was absolutely flipping his shit when he couldn’t find the navy blue journal he’s been attached at the hip with. Like any normal human, you offered to help him look, but he immediately refused.

“Thank you, and I’m sorry, but no.”

“The hell?” You exclaim, a confused look painting your features. “Why not?”

“Because I said so.”

“You’re aware that normal people accept help when they are offered it?”

“Normal people don’t have superpowers.”

You roll your eyes, stubbornly refusing to acknowledge he was right. “You know you’re gonna have a better chance of finding it if you let somebody help.”

“Obviously, but I just can’t.”

“Why not?” You question, your previously concerned expression slowly morphing into an irritated one. “You’ve literally been carrying that journal with you for the past month which means it obviously has some kind of value to you, and by extension to me. Not to mention you’ve just been super secretive about it.”

He sighs, obviously feeling guilty about his erratic behavior. “I know, and I’m sorry for being an ass about it but—”

“Peter??”

Aunt May opened his bedroom door, placing some cookies on the desk and she used her other hand to signal to Peter to follow her. “Aw honey, it’s good to see you again! I didn’t even notice you were here!”

You offered a small, yet kind smile. “Hey Aunt May! Yeah, Pete and I have been busy with finals so we haven’t been able to hangout like we normally do.”

“I’m glad you’re able to get some free time and destress from all the studying though.” She said, before she tugged on Peter’s sleeve to regain his attention. “Peter, come on. I need your help fixing something.”

He sighs, stepping over all the piles of mess he created in his frantic search to find his journal. Right before he exited the room he turned to you with a stern glare.

“Promise me you won’t go looking for it?”

You nod. “I pinky promise.”

Obviously as the amazing best friend you are, as soon as you’re out of his sight you set out to go and find the secret notebook.

And did you successfully find it???

Nope!! plus he caught u snooping around

lmfao loser

Rightfully so, all these events have been leading up to this one moment you’ve been waiting for.

The seemingly lost journal was not really lost at all.

He had left it in your room when he had come over the day before.

Admittedly, the overwhelming urge to snoop through it had obviously crossed your mind more than a few times. Who wouldn’t be curious about the journal he held in such a secretive light?

You picked up the journal that he laid on the edge of your bed, flipping to the cover and rationalizing your actions to see if the journal was yours or his.

First page was scribbled in deep red ink that wrote, ‘PETER PARKER’S DIARY #5. IF LOST PLEASE RETURN AND DO NOT READ UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES.”

DIARY???

“This thing was a diary??” Your jaw drops in surprise, not expecting the true nature of the notebook to be a diary out of all things. Of course you had your suspicions, but Peter never seemed to be the kind of sentimental guy who wrote out his feelings.

And this was his fifth one???

There were more??

There was little to no self control within your body at this point, the curiosity flowing through you clouding any rational judgment you had.

You flipped through the pages, most were actually filled with pictures he had taken and drawings, a few pages written down here and there. One section had specifically caught your attention.

There was a neon pink post-it note bookmark that had your name scribbled on it.

You assumed it would’ve been more collages of photos of the both of you as the previous pages were, but boy you were wrong.

Very wrong.

Heat creeped up on your cheeks as you were completely frozen in shock for the second time that night. You read his familiar chicken scratch over and over.

She’s like a shot of espresso. She’s like being bathed in sunlight. She's incredibly energetic, enthusiastic and has this sense of play and fun which is incredibly exciting. She’s the light and love of my life. I’ve been in love with her since we’ve met and I always will be, but she doesn’t know and I don’t know how to tell her.

You’re speechless.

It’s probably about time you grew a pair and figured out how to confess your love for him as well.

But little do you know, he may or may not have purposefully planted that diary in your room so he didn’t need to make the first move.

Guess you’ll never know.

masterlist

tag list: @scandalous-chaos @xdsage @grxcisxhy-wp