If You Get This, List 5 Songs You Like To Listen To. Then Send This Ask To 10 People In Your Notifications

If you get this, list 5 songs you like to listen to. then send this ask to 10 people in your notifications ❤️

i will never tire of doing these! thank you mk ily 🫶

the archer — taylor swift

fine line — harry styles

rock with you — michael jackson

risk — gracie abrams

you’re only human (second wind) — billy joel

If you get this, list 5 songs you like to listen to. then send this ask to 10 people in your notifications ❤️

thank you my lovely lilypad and @foodiegoogie for sending me this!! <3

camden — gracie abrams

doomsday — lizzy mcalpine

asleep — the smiths

thinking of a place — the war on drugs

moonlight — dhruv

(in case u forget, im CHEERING LOUDLY FOR U FROM ALLLLL THE WAY HERE where im from 😋)

😭😭😭😭😭 thank you buttcheekz i love you so much!!! this was so needed omg and also i can hear you cheer and i’m yelling back <333

I LOVE EVERYTHING ABOUT THIS OMG r and pansy's friendship is the cutest thing ever!!! also mattheo..... such a bitch........ please fuck off 🤬 and i adore how theo didnt have a hookup for months because he loves her aghhhh im in love with his softness towards her 😭🫶

Peonies ; part three

Pairing: Theo Nott x Fem!Reader

Summary: Theo and reader get even closer, and Mattheo is not a fan.

Word Count: 5280

Warnings: Unrequited love & Mattheo and Reader get into it. Let me know if there’s more!

A/N 💌 God, this took me forever to write. I struggled with writers block so badly on this, so if it’s not my best work, I apologize. As always, thank you to @moonpascal for reading, helping me with ideas, and just providing support and comfort. I love you!

SERIES MASTERLIST <3

“Y’good?” Theo looks up from the fire, his gaze shifting to Blaise, who’s now standing beside the couch. The flames had been the only company he’d had for hours. It was late—he couldn’t say exactly how late—just that the common room had emptied long ago, and he’d been sitting there long after everyone else had gone to bed.

“Yeah,” Theo sighs, his eyes drifting back to the flickering flames. “I’m good.” His words are hollow, almost as if he’s trying to convince himself. Blaise watches him for a moment, studying the tension in his posture, before quietly sitting down in the empty space beside him. Neither of them speaks, both of them watching as the flames dance.

Blaise leans back, glancing at Theo before breaking the silence. “You don’t look it,” he says, his voice calm but direct.

“Just thinking.” Theo just shrugs, his shoulders barely lifting, the gesture heavy with indifference. Blaise watches him for a moment, waiting, giving him the space to say something more—but the silence stretches.

“About her?”

Theo’s reaction is answer enough. He exhales sharply, running a hand through his hair with a tired frustration. For a brief moment, he pauses, elbows resting on his knees, his head cradled in his hands.

He drops his hands slowly, lifting his head to glance over at Blaise, his eyes tired, “When am I not?”

Blaise smiles slightly at his words. He’s known for years that Theo liked you—it was impossible to miss. From the moment Mattheo introduced you, Blaise vividly remembers the way Theo looked at you, as if his breath had been knocked from his lungs.

He was completely undone in a single glance.

And if that hadn’t been enough of a giveaway, the little things Theo did for you over the years certainly were—grabbing your favorite sweets from Hogsmeade when you couldn’t make the trip, offering help before you even had to ask, his gaze always seeking you out no matter how crowded the room. It was undeniable, even if Theo never spoke it aloud.

“Listen, mate,” Blaise begins, casting a quick glance at Theo, gauging his expression before continuing. “Do you think this is a good idea?”

“What?”

“Helping her get over Mattheo while you’re in love with her yourself.” Blaise's words hang in the air, and Theo's jaw tightens instinctively, a storm of emotions flickering across his face.

He wants to deny that he’s in love with you, but deep down, he knows it’s pointless. The truth is unquestionable; he’s been drawn to you for years, but these last few months have sent him falling even deeper.

How was he ever supposed to get over you when every moment only pulled him deeper? The way your fingers slipped so easily into his, like they belonged there, the soft curve of your lips as his thumb traced gentle circles over your skin. How sleeping over in your dorm had somehow become routine—he was sure Pansy was staying with Blaise on purpose to give him space with you. And those long walks around the castle, meant to distract you from Mattheo and Veronica, had turned into something else entirely—talks that lasted for hours, about everything and nothing, but always feeling like more.

It’s why he hasn’t left this couch in hours, struggling with the weight of his feelings. The realization hits him hard: he’s completely fallen for you, and he’s trapped. Because in your eyes, he’s just a friend, and that thought feels like a punch to the gut.

“She asked me to, and I can’t say no to her,” Theo replies, his voice laced with a mix of frustration and resignation. “I’ve never been able to.”

“You’re going to get yourself hurt if you’re not careful.” Blaise warns, his tone serious.

“We’ve long passed that point.” Theo sighs.

.·。.·゜✭·.·✫·゜·。.

“Where in Hogsmeade do you get the flowers?” You glance over at Theo, sitting next to you on the common room couch, your question pulling him from his thoughts. Whatever everyone else was talking about had long since lost your interest, and if Theo were honest, he’d admit he wasn’t listening either. How could he be, with you so close? The heat of your body nearly pressed into his side, making it impossible for him to think straight.

“What?” He replies, but the pause lingers just a little too long. He's stalling, clearly hesitant to admit the truth—that the flowers aren't from Hogsmeade.

“The peonies.” You murmur, shifting until you're turned toward him, tucking yourself into his side. His arm rests casually on the back of the couch, and the sudden closeness feels intimate.

“What shop do you get them from?” You ask, your voice so soft it nearly melts him.

His mind goes blank the moment he sees you nestled against his side, looking up at him through your lashes. The way your gaze lingers on him, so close, steals any coherent thought he might have had.

“Why?” He asks, feigning casualness.

“I wanted to get some for myself,” you shrug, “I’ve never seen peonies so beautiful before.”

“No,” Theo responds so quickly that it catches you off guard, an amused eyebrow arching as you glance at him in surprise. The truth is, he hates the idea of you picking your own flowers—he wants to be the one to give them to you. “I’ll just take you with me next time I go, yeah?”

“Yeah.” You nod in agreement, a soft smile tugging at your lips, clearly content with his answer. As you turn back to the conversation, that smile still lingers, and Theo can’t help but admire you for a moment, a quiet satisfaction settling in knowing he was the reason for it. But when he glances back up, his gaze meets Mattheo’s.

Mattheo’s brow furrows as he shifts his gaze between you and Theo, a flicker of suspicion darkening his eyes. Without thinking, Theo drops his arm, casually wrapping it around your shoulders in a possessive gesture—one he knows he shouldn’t make. Your body instinctively leans into him, sending a warmth coursing through Theo; it feels so natural to have you this close. Mattheo’s expression tightens just slightly, his gaze lingering a heartbeat too long before he finally looks away.

You barely have time to enjoy being cuddled into Theo’s side, before Pansy turns to you. Both of you exchange annoyed glances at something particularly ridiculous Draco just said, rolling your eyes in unison. But then her expression shifts from irritation to excited disbelief as she catches sight of you nestled against Theo, his fingers absentmindedly tracing gentle patterns on your skin.

Pansy can’t help but raise her eyebrows, a grin spreading across her face as she processes the scene before her. Before you can send her a warning look, she’s on her feet, leaving Blaise protesting. “It’s time for bed,” She declares, pointedly looking at you. “And you’re coming with me.”

You sigh, knowing all too well that Pansy would make a scene if you didn’t follow her lead. Reluctantly, you lean forward, easing yourself out of Theo’s grasp, but before fully pulling away, you pause. Gently, you press a soft kiss to his cheek, your lips lingering for just a moment longer than usual. “Goodnight,” you murmur quietly, the words almost lost in the space between you before you finally stand.

Pansy, giddy and practically buzzing with excitement, grabs your hand and tugs you toward your dorm, both of you tossing casual goodnights over your shoulders to the boys. Blaise grumbles loudly about not getting a proper goodnight from his girlfriend, while Theo remains silent, a soft pink flush creeping across his cheeks as he watches you walk away, still feeling the warmth of your kiss lingering on his skin.

You catch the sound of the boys teasing Theo the moment they assume you're out of earshot, their playful jabs and laughter unmistakable as they seize the opportunity to rib him. Even from a distance, you can imagine Theo's flushed face as he tries—and likely fails—to brush off their teasing.

“Is there something going on between the two of you?” Pansy blurts out the second you step into your dorm, her excitement practically radiating off her as she nearly slams the door shut behind her.

“No, why would you even think that?” You ask, genuinely surprised, but Pansy just stares at you incredulously, like you’ve completely missed the obvious.

“You’re kidding, right?” She says, crossing her arms. “The sleepovers? The hand holding? The fact that you two are practically inseparable?”

“He’s helping me get over Mattheo.” You insist, feeling the need to defend yourself, though even as the words leave your mouth, they sound weaker than you’d like.

After a couple of months of coming to terms with the reality of Mattheo and Veronica, you’ve found that the idea of them together doesn’t sting nearly as much as it once did. Sure, you still dislike seeing them together, but the ache has softened into something more manageable. If anything, what bothers you most now is your lingering dislike for Veronica herself; there’s just something about her that grates on your nerves.

“Babes,” Pansy says, her tone full of disbelief, like you’re the only one who can’t see what’s right in front of you.

“You know I’d tell you if there was something going on.” You say, but even as the words leave your mouth, there's a flicker of doubt in your chest, as if the truth isn’t quite as simple as you want it to be.

“I guess so,” Pansy replies, still eyeing you with clear skepticism, her gaze sharp as if she's waiting for you to admit what you’re not even sure of yet. “Just so you know, I think he’d give you everything if you let him.”

.·。.·゜✭·.·✫·゜·。.

Your conversation with Pansy hasn’t left your mind in days, and quite honestly, it’s driving you a little mad.

I think he’d give you everything if you let him.

You can’t quite tell if Pansy is subtly suggesting that Theo has feelings for you or if she simply likes the idea of the two of you together. Either way, her words have been playing on a loop in your mind, so much so that you’ve started to feel nervous around him.

Every time he looks at you or takes your hand, your thoughts scatter, leaving you utterly flustered. You’re trying your best to hide just how distracted you are around him, but Theo’s definitely noticed. This morning, when he leaned in to whisper something, your mind went completely blank, every thought consumed by him.

Him, him, him.

The warmth of his voice, the way his hand rested on the small of your back as he spoke—it was all you could focus on. The way his attention never wavered, how it was solely on you, made your heart race like it was the only thing that mattered in the room.

And when you failed to respond, he paused, concern flashing in his eyes as his brows furrowed. “You okay?” His voice was soft, genuine, and somehow that only made things worse. You had nodded quickly, plastering on what you hoped was a convincing smile, but inside, your mind was a chaotic mess.

Had he always looked at you that way? Like he was genuinely checking in, always quietly noticing when something was off? It made you wonder if you’d been blind to it all this time or if this was something new, something you’d only just started paying attention to.

You’re so lost in your thoughts that you barely register when Mattheo bumps into you in the hallway. You cast a quick glance his way, ready to keep walking, but he reaches out, gently grabbing your wrist and pulling you back.

“Wait, hold on,” Mattheo says, his grip on your wrist warm yet insistent, his voice edged with irritation and disbelief. “Were you really just going to walk past me?”

“I’m not doing this right now.” You huff, pulling your wrist free from his grasp, trying to mask the frustration that’s been simmering for weeks.

“Doing what?” His voice hardens, his eyes narrowing in confusion.

“Talking to you.” You snap.

“Why the hell not?”

You feel a surge of irritation, meeting his gaze with a fiery glare. “Because you’ve ignored me for the past few months, Mattheo. Why should I care to talk to you now?”

“That’s not fair,” he mutters, his jaw tightening as frustration creeps into his tone. “It’s not that I’ve been ignoring you.”

“The last time we properly talked,” you snap, “you asked for your jersey back—the one you gave me.” The memory of it still stings, and you can’t help but throw it back at him. “So yeah, Mattheo, it’s more than fair.”

He frowns, clearly caught off guard by your words, his eyes flickering with something between guilt and disbelief. “Listen, I know we haven’t hung out much—”

“Are you being serious?” You scoff, folding your arms as if that could somehow shield you from the frustration bubbling inside. “You’ve practically disappeared, Mattheo. You’ve been too busy with your girlfriend to even notice anyone else.” You want to roll your eyes at the way he looks genuinely confused, like he's completely unaware of how he's hurt you.

He opens his mouth to argue, but you don’t give him the chance.

“You don’t get to be annoyed with me for not talking to you,” you bite out, your voice sharp with frustration. “Not when you’ve been doing the exact same thing for months.”

“I’m sorry, okay? I know I’ve spent a lot of time with her, but it’s the same for you and Theo.” His voice shifts, annoyance replacing the guilt. “You’re always with him. Holding hands, spending the night together-what the fuck is that by the way?”

You take a step back, the heat of his words catching you off guard. “We’re just friends, Mattheo. We’re allowed to hang out.” You keep your voice steady, even as your heart races at the accusation in his gaze.

“Friends? Is that really what you’re calling it?” He crosses his arms, the tension in his posture unmistakable. “Because it looks like more to me. You’re always with him.”

You shake your head, a bitter laugh escaping your lips. “And whose fault is that? You pushed me away, Mattheo. What did you expect me to do—just wait around?”

“I just don’t get why you’re always with him. You and Theo—" He cuts himself off, the words hanging between you.

You raise an eyebrow, challenging him to finish, but he stays silent, “Theo and I what?”

He takes a moment, his gaze hardening slightly, as if weighing his words carefully. “You know what? Forget it,” he says, shrugging dismissively. “I really don’t care what you two are up to.”

You scoff, crossing your arms tightly and shooting him a piercing glare. “Oh, come off it, Mattheo. You clearly care. And honestly, what does it matter to you if I spend time with Theo? You’ve been wrapped up in Veronica this whole time.” Your voice drips with sarcasm, each word punctuating the frustration bubbling inside you.

He falters, his frustration twisting into something more vulnerable for a split second before he shakes his head. Hearing her name seems to snap something in him. His jaw clenches, and he takes a slow, measured breath before looking back at you, his expression hardening.

Mattheo meets your eyes, his expression unreadable for a moment before he rolls his shoulders, dismissing the tension. “Honestly? I’ve got enough on my plate with Veronica. I don’t need to waste my time worrying about you and Theo.”

The words sting more than you expect, and for a moment, the air between you thickens with unspoken feelings and unresolved tension. “Right,” you say, trying to keep your voice steady. “Because you’re so busy.”

He turns away, shaking his head slightly, as if trying to shake off the conversation. “Whatever, just... do what you want.”

You watch as he steps back, the distance between you suddenly feeling too large, and you can’t help but wonder how badly damaged your friendship is—or what’s left of it. You’re so angry that you want to cry, and you’re grateful that the halls are empty as Mattheo walks away, leaving you to stand alone in the deserted corridor.

.·。.·゜✭·.·✫·゜·。.

You had promised Pansy you’d be ready in just a few minutes, but half an hour had slipped by while she was in the bathroom and you remained sat on your bed, lost in thought. Your gaze drifted to the pictures of you and Mattheo that adorned the wall, memories captured in each frame. The urge to rip them down clawed at you, but the thought of erasing those moments felt unbearable. Each smile, each laugh shared now felt tainted, leaving you uncertain of what to do with them.

The argument with Mattheo this morning replayed in your mind like a stubborn song on repeat, and the idea of facing him at the party made your stomach twist with anxiety. In all the years of your friendship, you’d rarely fought—occasional bickering was one thing, but this felt different, more profound. The sharpness of his words lingered, and a nagging fear took root: what if this was it? What if this marked the beginning of the end for a friendship you considered so strong?

“You said you’d be ready.” Pansy sighs, casting a disapproving look at the sweatpants you’re wearing. You hadn’t even heard her leave the bathroom.

You glance way from the pictures and send her a half shrug, “I don’t think I’m going to go.”

“Oh, you absolutely are,” Pansy’s heels click against the floor as she heads to her trunk. “If you stay here you won’t stop thinking about earlier.”

You don’t bother responding—you know she’s right. Pansy continues rummaging through her trunk, the sound of fabric rustling filling the room. After a moment, she straightens up, triumphantly holding a sleek dress in hand, her eyes gleaming with satisfaction.

She shoves the black, silky dress into your hands before pointing at the bathroom, “Go. I’ll find heels for you to wear.”

There’s no point in arguing. Instead, you make your way to the bathroom a slip into the dress, feeling the smooth fabric wrap around you. For a moment, you admire the way it hugs you in the mirror, the cut flattering your body type well. Stepping out, you give a little spin for Pansy, her approving smirk already forming before you even say a word.

“Merlin, that dress was made for you.” Pansy grins as she steps forward, handing you a pair of heels. You take them, slipping them on effortlessly, the added height giving you an extra boost of confidence. Before you can even react, she’s already fussing with your hair, smoothing out stray strands and perfecting every detail. With a quick swipe of lip gloss after making you pout, she steps back, giving you an approving nod.

You can officially call yourself ready.

Pansy laces her fingers through yours as you walk down to the common room. As soon as you step out of your dorm, the noise rushes in, chaotic and overwhelming. You hesitate for a moment, knowing Mattheo is probably at the center of it all. The last thing you want is to run into him after earlier, especially with Veronica around.

You’re relieved when you reach the bottom of the stairs that Pansy has already spotted Blaise, which means the rest of the boys are near. And you’re proven right the moment Pansy pulls you through the crowd. Your eyes land on the boys—everyone except Mattheo—gathered together in their usual spot, laughing and talking like they own the room.

Before you even realize it, your eyes instinctively search for Theo, and it doesn't take long to spot him. He’s leaning casually against the wall with a drink in his hand.

Your breath hitches as your gaze lands on the dark shirt rolled up to his elbows, highlighting his toned arms. The veins tracing down to his hands catch your eye, drawing you in deeper. And those hands—Gods, those hands. An unexpected longing surges within you, a sudden urge to lean into his side, to feel him wrap his arm around your waist, resting his hand on the small of your back, just as he often did.

Ever since his match a couple of weeks ago, it’s as if something has switched within you. No matter how hard you try, your eyes are irresistibly drawn to Theo Nott. It doesn’t help that he’s so attentive, always making sure to check in with you and holding your hand whenever you needed it. In the past couple of months, he has become the one person you feel safest with, the one you can share your thoughts and worries with without hesitation.

Your stomach drops the moment you notice he isn’t alone. A bitter taste creeps into your mouth as you take in the girl standing in front of him—she’s stunning, effortlessly leaning into his space, clearly flirting. A few months ago, you wouldn’t have cared, wouldn’t have given her a second thought, but now it’s all you can focus on. The way she laughs, the way she seems to command his attention—it stings in a way you’re not prepared for.

Without a second thought, you drop Pansy’s hand and head straight toward them. The closer you get, the more her light, flirtatious giggle grates on your nerves, each sound making your stomach twist with irritation. Every step tightens the knot of annoyance building inside you, your focus narrowing in on them, unable to shake the discomfort settling in your chest.

When you draw close to Theo, you reach out and lightly touch his forearm, your fingers trailing down his skin before intertwining with his. It’s a blend of flirtation and possessiveness, and you watch with satisfaction as the girl’s gaze follows your touch.

Theo glances at you, instantly recognizing your touch, but his breath catches in his throat as his eyes travel down your body. Taking in the way the tight black dress hugs your curves, he feels as if his breath has been caught in his throat. The way you’re staring at the girl—your expression unmistakably conveying ‘back off’—stirs something deep within him. He fights the urge to pull you close, his hand finding the back of your neck as he kisses you fiercely, wanting to make it clear that him flirting with another girl is not a possibility.

But he can’t do that.

“I’m so sorry to interrupt—” though you’re not at all. “But I’ve been looking all over for you.” Your gaze flickers up to meet Theo’s, and you catch him watching you with an amused, quirked brow, a hint of a smile playing at the corners of his lips.

“Oh,” she says, straightening up, her expression shifting from surprise to something more calculating. “So the rumors are true? You two are together?”

“If you’ve heard we’re together, then why even bother flirting with him?” You challenge, your voice steady and laced with confidence.

Her lips part in disbelief, and her eyes flicker between you and Theo, who stands beside you, bringing his cup to his lips to stifle the amused smile threatening to break free. The corners of his mouth twitch, betraying his enjoyment, while you stand firm, radiating confidence in the face of her surprise.

She scoffs and turns to leave, causing your confidence to begin slipping away.

Now that it’s just you and Theo, the reality of what you’ve done is sinking in. There’s no way your little display of jealousy didn’t just fuel the rumors that the two of you are together. But not only that, you didn’t deny it when she asked. You keep your eyes on the girl walking away and sigh when you realize she’s gone straight to her friends, no doubt to tell them about how you acted.

“You’re going to have the whole school thinking we’re together.” His voice is soft but teasing, a hint of amusement lacing his words as he holds you close.

He releases your hand, sliding his arm around your waist as he pulls you into him. The move is bolder than usual, more daring than the subtle touches you’re used to from him, and you can't help but blame it on the drink he's holding. His grip is firm, warm, and it sends a rush of heat through you that lingers far longer than it should.

“I’m sorry,” you wince, biting your lip as you glance up at Theo. “I probably just ruined your chances of finding a hookup for tonight.”

In all honesty, you feel more relieved than sorry.

His brow arches slightly, a hint of amusement glinting in his eyes. “Who said I was looking for a hookup?”

You scoff lightly, shifting in his hold, though his arm remains firmly wrapped around your waist. “You do remember we’ve been friends for years, right?” Your voice is teasing as you smile up at him.

Theo shrugs like he’s hardly bothered, his expression softening just a bit. “I haven’t hooked up with anyone in months,” he admits quietly, his voice sincere. The closeness between you feels more intimate than ever, the warmth of his body against yours making your heart race.

Suddenly your mind is jumping to the fact that the both of you have been hanging out for months. But there’s no way you’re going to point that out, so instead you smile at him softly before pulling away.

“I’m gonna get a drink. Do you want to come with me?” You extend your hand, and without hesitation, Theo clasps it in his, his grip warm and comforting.

It didn’t take long for you to feel tipsy; with the number of drinks you’ve had, it’s hardly a shock. Theo wasn’t drinking as much as you were, and he certainly wasn’t going to admit it was because he wanted to keep an eye on you.

Typically, he observed from a distance, leaning against the wall with a drink in hand, as you danced and laughed with Pansy and occasionally Enzo. But he realized he liked being the one that was next to you the whole night, and he’d enjoy the parties way more if this is how they all are.

You let out a sigh, and Theo’s brows knit together in curiosity as he looks down at you. You glance into your cup with a hint of disdain, contemplating whether to refill it. But just as you make a move to get more, Theo gently reaches out, stopping you in your tracks.

Earlier you had convinced him to dance with you, and it took plenty of ‘please’s’ on your end to persuade him. Really, the first time you said it had been enough, but he just liked how pretty it sounded falling from your lips. And once he grew tired of dancing, Enzo stepped in while Theo kept an eye on you as he chatted with Draco and Blaise. If he was tired, he couldn’t imagine how you were feeling.

You offer him a grateful smile as you settle back against the wall. Unfortunately, all the couches and chairs are taken, so you find yourself keeping watch, hoping a spot will open up while you take a breather from dancing with Pansy.

“That didn’t take you long.” You comment as someone leans against the wall next to you, but you’re surprised when you see Mattheo in Theo’s place. The sight of him immediately sobers you, and you find yourself standing up straighter, instinctively avoiding his gaze.

“I lied to you earlier,” He exhales slowly, and the tone of his voice reveals that he’s been drinking. He’s not drunk, but you can tell that the alcohol has certainly taken effect, adding a warm haze to his words. “I do care. I care a whole fucking lot actually.”

“No, I’m not doing this with you.” You cross your arms, glancing over at him and Mattheo shifts so he’s fully facing you with one shoulder against the wall.

“Do you know how hard it is to see you with Theo?” He asks, and you scoff, deliberately turning your gaze away from him. “You’ve got no idea how much it hurts.”

“I cannot believe you just said that to me.” Your head snaps to the side, disbelief flooding your voice as you look at Mattheo. “You have a girlfriend.”

“I know,” he replies, frustration creeping into his tone. “But it doesn’t change how I feel about you.”

“How you feel about me?” Your voice rises, the sarcasm unmistakable.

“I’ve liked you. For years.”

You let out a laugh, disbelief and shock coursing through you. “That’s not funny.”

His expression softens, and he steps closer, desperation flickering in his eyes. “I’m not joking. It’s the truth.”

“Really? You think this is how you show someone you care?” You shake your head, trying to grasp the absurdity of the moment. “You’re with someone else, Mattheo. You can’t just decide to have feelings for me while you’re with her.”

“But I didn’t just decide that while I was with her,” he insists, his voice low and earnest. “I’ve always had them. I tried to push it down, to ignore it, but I can’t anymore. Seeing you with Theo…” His voice trails off, frustration giving way to vulnerability.

“I don’t know what you want me to say.” You sigh, trying to swallow down all your emotions. This is the last place you want to be having this conversation. In fact, you don’t even want to be having it at all.

“I want you to say you have feelings for me too.” Mattheo says and you stare at him in surprise.

Theo stood frozen a short distance away, gripping the fresh drink he had just gotten for you. He knew he shouldn’t be listening in, but when Mattheo confessed his feelings for you, he felt compelled to stay put, unable to move. A knot of dread twisted in his stomach as he braces himself for your response. He knew better than anyone about your feelings for Mattheo, and the possibility that they hadn’t completely faded hadn’t escaped him.

It’s over before he even gets a chance. Your feelings for Mattheo have always been there, and maybe it was delusional of him to think that you getting jealous over him and flirting all night meant he had a chance. But he really believed that your feelings might have changed.

“I can’t say that.” You nearly whisper, and Mattheo looks like you’ve just slapped him.

“Because you have feelings for him?”

His question hangs there, thick with emotion, and you can see the way his eyes search yours for an answer.

Theo doesn’t get to hear your answer because, as you move to get past Mattheo, you catch sight of him, and your face crumples with the weight of emotion, the glimmer of unshed tears evident in your eyes. A wave of concern washes over him, and before he can fully process it, you push past Mattheo, urgency guiding you forward. When you reach Theo, you wrap your arms around his neck, burying your face against his shoulder, and he instinctively pulls you closer, wrapping his arms around your waist.

“Can we leave? I don’t want to be here anymore.” Theo agrees without any hesitation. He glances up at Mattheo, who scoffs in clear irritation, their eyes locking for a brief, tense moment. Theo gently grasps your hand before guiding you through the crowd and to your dorm.

please please please consider reblogging or leaving a comment! it keeps me motivated to write, and reblogs help to spread my work 🤍

hello maeee!! i hope youre well!!

ive been STRUGGLING with higher level classes recently and its absolutely killing me 😭

could you maybe write something about reader who struggles academically (whether it be on certain subjects, procrastination, overworking , etc. is completely up to you!) with poly!marauders/one of the marauders??

sorry if youve already written something like this, this request is a bit self indulgent 😭

-💡

Hi angel, I'm really sorry you've been going through it! Thank you for requesting though, all the best requests are a bit self indulgent ;)

cw: academic stress

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 678 words

James is a patient teacher, and in an effort to repay his kindness you’re really trying to keep your tears from falling. 

You keep your eyes steadfastly on your potions textbook as you flip through it. You’re blinking rapidly, looking for the chapter that contains yet another bit of information you’ve failed to retain, when Remus’ warm hand closes over your shoulder. 

“Careful,” he warns, bringing a steaming mug of coffee around you to set it on one of your closed books. 

“Thank you.” Your relief is immense. You’re the sort of tired that makes your eyes hurt and your brain feel dead, thoroughly worn out by hours of studying. You pick it up and take a sip. Look at your boyfriend in betrayal. “Decaf?” 

Remus gives you a look. “It’s evening, dove. You won’t be able to sleep.” 

“I’ve got some sleeping draught for later.” 

“Ah, substance abuse.” Sirius tosses you a grin from where he’s lounging on his bed, his own homework long since finished. “Must be very dark times.” 

Your face feels suddenly very hot. You turn it down towards your book again, but the quiet splat of a tear dripping off your nose and onto the pages gives you away. 

“Hey, hey.” Sirius sounds immediately panicked. “I’m joking, abuse whatever substances you like.” 

“Angel, what’s wrong?” James’ voice is surprised, but his hand finds your back anyway, rubbing between your shoulders firm and sure. “It’s okay. We’re nearly done.” 

You suck in a breath, hoping to collect yourself but horrified when it only triggers another hiccup of sobs. You put your hands at your hairline, hiding yourself. 

“I’m going to have to sucker punch Slughorn,” Sirius says, sounding mildly horrified at this realization. 

“Dove.” Remus steps in front of you, lifting your chin. “What’s going on? Are you tired, is that it?” 

You nod pathetically, tears carving hot paths down both cheeks. “I just feel s—so stupid,” you whimper. 

Remus’ brows hook in the middle, but it’s James who says, “Hey, why?” 

He thumbs away the wetness from the cheek closest to him, encouraging you to look at him with his hand on your face. His eyes are big and warm behind his glasses. 

“Because you’re having trouble with your homework? That happens to everyone sometimes.” 

You shake your head. “It used to be sometimes. I don’t know what it is, this year—” you stifle another sob “—I feel like I can’t understand anything anymore.” 

Remus sighs. “I think you’re just overworking yourself, sweetheart.” 

You almost want to laugh. “You think this is the result of working too much?” 

“I think that schoolwork is all you’ve been doing lately,” he says patiently. “I understand that you might be having a difficult time with the upper levels this year, but you’re not going to absorb anything new if you don’t take some breaks.” 

“True,” Sirius pitches in. “That invigoration draught you keep under your bed is making you twitchy, babe. You can hardly expect to pay proper attention in class when you’re nearly bouncing out of your seat.” 

Remus’ eyes narrow. “What?” 

“Bollocks.” Sirius makes a face. Sorry, he mouths to you. 

“Let’s go to dinner,” James saves you, closing your textbook and vanishing your coffee with a flick of his wand. “It’ll be good for you to think about other things for a bit, and we’ll finish up when we get back.” 

The prospect of a break relaxes you enough for your tears to abate. James swipes the remainders from your cheeks and pushes at the corner of your lips until you smile halfheartedly. 

Remus hums his approval. “You need to eat something proper,” he says, pinching you sternly under the chin, “and stop trying to usurp your circadian rhythm with potions.” 

“Substance abuse,” Sirius quips, hopping down from his bed to lead the way to the great hall, “best kept for the weekends, as I always say.” 

“Do you always say that?” James wonders aloud. “Seems rather impromptu.” 

“Well, that’s the mark of a good line, Jamesie. It always sounds off the cuff.”

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