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#mattheo riddle imagines
gracexthoughts · 3 days
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of violent delights chap 22
the champions
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31 october 1996
Mattheo’s POV 
“It’s not going to wooork!” Granger calls in a sing-song voice as the Twins soak in the scattered applause from the other students around, ready to submit their names. The Goblet of Fire has been set up towards the front of the Great Hall, the tables pushed back and squished together to accommodate the large cup and magical age line surrounding it. 
“C’mon, ‘Mione!” One twin groans. 
“Have a little faith,” adds the other, which I think is George. Mia has been trying to show me how to tell them apart and if they would stand still I probably could do it. 
“She’s right,” Mia says from my side. It’s a Saturday so Mia and I went to Hogsmeade for lunch and as we were entering the castle on our way back, the Twins were running into the Great Hall like they were about to win a race. “You didn’t account for the age line.” The Twins turn to look at her eyebrows raised. 
“This right here, is an age line,” Mia says, pointing to the silvery blue boundary that encircles the Goblet.
"Dumbledore drew it himself!" Granger says, seeming very pleased that Mia agrees with her.
“I highly doubt Dumbledore’s magic can be fooled by a dodge as obvious as an aging potion," adds Mia.
“Ah! But that’s why it's so genius, Phe,” Fred says; I can tell it's Fred because he steps so close to Mia that I have to make an effort not to push him back. Fred is much more physically affectionate with Mia than George and while I trust Mia, I can’t help the jealousy that flairs in my chest for the guy that knows my girlfriend better than I may ever be able to. 
“Because it's so obvious that they would assume no one would try it!” George answers. 
“By all means, if it works then you can brag for the rest of the year about how genius you both are,” Mia laughs at her friends and the Twins high five, drink their potions, and turn to the Goblet, very slowly and carefully stepping over the age line, which bends against the legs but does let them pass. Mia bites her bottom lip as she watches it all happen and my mind wanders as I watch her for a moment, no longer interested in the Twins but rather focusing on my jumping her right here.
My focus is pulled from Mia’s lips as the Twins shout and fly over the crowd surrounding the Goblet and land hard on the floor. I follow my girlfriend as she pushes her way through the crowd frantically only to see Fred and George fighting on the floor as old men. Mia fails to stifle a laugh and I don’t even try not to bust out laughing as the Weasley Twins, in their new found old age, wrestle and yell at each other on the floor of the Great Hall. Eventually, Mia sighs and steps forward, lightly kicking their sides until they release each other. 
“Not to say I told you so but-” 
“Mia, you gotta help us fix it!” One of them begs, their voice cracking as they stand, rubbing their back as if it pains them. Well, they are elderly now I guess. 
“What? How is this my fault? I think you both look rather dashing,” Mia teases, clearly trying hard not to bust out laughing again. “I’ll walk with you to Pomphrey,” she adds before turning to me. “Met up after the feast?” 
“Sounds good, princess. Good luck with the grandads,” I press a small kiss to her forehead before she turns and shoves the elderly Twins forward, the three of them leaving with their laughter echoing in their wake. 
“Can’t believe you’re dating her,” Draco’s voice sneers from my side and I turn to face my cousin, his hair reflecting the blue flames coming out of the Goblet. 
“Bugger off, Draco,” I grumble, turning back to see Krum throw his name into the Goblet as well, all the girls in the room admiring him as he turns and leaves. 
“Father was surprised, of course, but sounds like your mother wasn’t. Although, he supposed it could be a very clever ruse. Breaking the heart of The Girl Who Lived, a small revenge for the death of a father,” Draco continues. Like a little brother, he has always loved winding me up, and unfortunately, I’m an easy man to anger. 
“You and your father need to keep your noses out of my life,” I snap, turning and shoving the smaller boy slightly, causing him to stumble back a step. “You leave the Potters alone.” 
“You can’t tell me what to do!” He cries indignantly but before I can respond, Ella appears by his side. 
“C’mon Dray, don’t lower yourself by fussing with blood traitors,” she coos cruelly, her dark eyes narrowed at me angrily. I clench my jaw at the insult but I don’t rise to their taunts. 
“Come off it, Elladora,” Enzo says, appearing at my side with his arms crossed. Theo appears on my other side and gratitude floods in me for my two best friends. Ella and Draco roll their eyes and sneer as they turn their backs and leave the Great Hall whispering intently. 
“Malfoy-Riddle holidays are gonna get super fun for you,” Theo comments, trying to break tension, and I grunt in acknowledgement. 
“Don’t worry about them, Matt,” Enzo says calmly. 
“Easy,” I respond simply. “You guys want a smoke?” I ask, wanting to escape to the Astronomy Tower and ignore the rest of the world. 
“Yeah, let’s go. Tired of this display anyway,” Theo nods and the three of us exit the Great Hall and make our way towards the tower. 
“The time has come to select our Triwizard Tournament champions!” Dumbledore announces, stepping down from the teachers table towards the Goblet of Fire, his hand outstretched as he dims the torches around the Hall.
“Ah, here we go,” Evan mutters, turning in his seat so he can watch, leaning his back against the table. I catch Mia’s eye at the next table over and she smiles, scrunching her nose adorably before turning back around to watch the choosing ceremony. “Once the champions' names are called, please come up to the top of the Hall and proceed into the next chamber and await your instructions,” Dumbledore motions towards a door to the side of the teachers table.
The entirety of the hall waits in tense excitement as the Goblet of Fire begins shining more brightly, so bright it's almost painful to look too closely at it. Suddenly, the flames turn bright red and jump up to a height of a foot or so and a burned piece of parchment flutters down and Dumbledore catches it easily. “The Durmstrang champion is… Victor Krum!” 
Applause echoes through the halls for the Bulgarian Seeker as he stands and sweeps up towards the table and is congratulated by Karkaroff before he disappears through the door. 
“No surprise there,” Enzo mutters back to Theo and I as the flames just up again and spit out another paper. 
“The champion for Beauxbatons is… Fleur Delacour!” A lithe blonde girl stands from amongst the sea of blue silk uniforms, looking quite proud, and saunters up to Dumbledore before continuing in Krum’s path as the student body cheers, especially the boys. 
“Oh man,” Evan says as he leans back to watch Fleur as she walks, adding a low whistle to punctuate his sentence. Astoria reaches over the table and smacks Evan on the back of his head. The French girl is beautiful for certain, but it seems I am one of the only ones not fawning over her. 
Just as Fleur disappears, the goblet shoots the third and final paper. “The Hogwarts champion is Cedric Diggory!” The Slytherins around me groan, but Hufflepuff explodes in uproar as they cheer for their champion. 
“What a pretty boy,” Theo mutters but I’m focused on Mia as Diggory smiles and nods at Mia as he passes her, his eyes lingering longer than on anyone else he passes. I see George and Fred glaring at him and I’m glad someone else agrees that the newly appointed Hogwarts champion should stay far away from my girl. 
“That’s it!” Dumbledore yells, the students quieting down as Diggory slips through the door. “We now have our three champions, and I’m sure the rest of you will be very supportive.” The Headmaster falters in his speech as the Goblet begins sparking and the flames turn red and shoot out a fourth paper. 
Dumbledore, looking quite bewildered, reaches for the paper and squints at it. He murmurs a name but I’m sitting too far away to hear it but the students up front begin whispering rapidly and looking towards the Gryffindor table. 
“... Potter,” my blood runs cold at the last name, although I didn’t catch the first name I’m terrified for Mia. She never said she found a way to enter, she didn’t even seem like she wanted to. “HARRY POTTER!” Dumbledore roars louder, interrupting my thoughts and relief floods my chest, soon followed by guilt.
For a moment no one moves. My eyes find Mia a table over, seemingly frozen in time with wide eyes. She doesn’t move until Harry passes her on his way up to Dumbledore, and even I can tell Harry doesn’t understand what’s happening. At the sight of her brother, Mia moves suddenly, like her brain was struggling to process information but now that it has she jumps up from her seat. 
“Headmaster, it must be a mistake!” She calls and Harry looks back to his sister, the fear and confusion in her eyes mirrored in his near identical ones. Mia steps over her seat, trying to go after her brother, but one of the Weasley Twins, I can’t tell which from here, stands and pulls her back. She struggles against him as she watches her brother take the parchment from Dumbledore and walk dazed towards the door. Evan, Enzo, Theo and Astoria all look at me with varying degrees of confusion. 
“How did he get past the Age Line?” Evan whispers but I’m not listening. I don’t listen to Dumbledore as he dismisses us either because all I’m aware of is the terror on Mia’s face. Students begin standing around me and I push my way through the crowd to try and reach Mia. 
Mia doesn’t stay put though, she begins pushing her way towards Dumbledore, who is speaking to McGonagall next to the goblet. I’m a few steps behind Mia as she reaches the professors. 
“Headmaster! How is this possible? Harry didn’t enter, he couldn’t have!” She cries and I can hear the panic in her voice as I step up behind her, the Twins next to me now as well. 
“Miss Potter, please,” Dumbledore says placatingly but Mia forges ahead. 
“You can’t let him compete! He’s only sixteen!” 
“We will do everything we can to ensure-” 
“I’ll compete for him!” Mia interrupts again, and I share a glance with the Twins. “I’ll be 19 in a few months, please! You have to let me take his place, he’s not-
“Miss Potter!” Dumbledore snaps, halting Mia in her tracks. “Please, let us handle it and you can come speak to me about it tomorrow if you still wish,” and with that Dumbledore turns around and sweeps back towards the teacher’s table, followed by Karkaroff, Madam Maxine, and an entourage of Hogwarts teachers. 
“Professor, please, I’ll do anything if it means Harry doesn’t have to do this. There has to be a way,” Mia begs of McGonagall, whose face is grave. McGonagall reaches out and puts a hand on Mia’s shoulder. 
“I know you’re frightened, Miss Potter, but there is not much that can be done tonight. I will speak with the Headmaster and you and I can speak tomorrow. For now, just go on back to the common room, and be there for your brother,” McGonagall squeezes Mia’s shoulder and gives her a small, reassuring smile before turning and following after Dumbledore. 
Mia watches her go for a moment before turning back to me, Fred and George. Her beautiful green eyes are wide with fear and her bottom lip is trembling. 
“C’mon, Mia. Let’s go back to the common room, I’m sure Harry will be back up there soon,” Fred says calmly. The Great Hall is almost completely empty now save us and a few stragglers. 
Mia turns her eyes to me, “Will you com-” 
“Of course, Mia. C’mon,” I say, wrapping my arm around her shoulder and I lead her out of the Great Hall behind the Twins, the last people in the Hall eyeing Mia suspiciously. 
As we enter the Gryffindor Common Room, students shoot us looks, emotions ranging from suspicion to hatred. I mean, every time I’m anywhere near Gryffindor Tower I get plenty of wary stares and glares but I’ve never seen this reaction for Mia. Mia begins to follow Fred and George to the couches where the rest of her and Harry’s friends sit but she looks around for a moment at the rest of the room, her jaw ticking. 
“I have to go write to Remus and… I have to go write to Remus,” she says in the general direction of the circle of friends and then continues through the room, her head held high. I follow after her and find her frantically searching through the piles on her desk.
Something I’ve learned about Mia in the last two months, she’s kinda messy. I mean she’s brilliant and seems to have a system, but she’s also a little chaotic. Typically, every surface in her dorm room is littered with books and quills and parchment and the occasional dirty coffee cup. It doesn't help that her friends are in here all the time as well, I'm sure, but she doesn't seem to mind.
I close the door gently as Mia manages to find a quill and some clean parchment. She leans over her desk, perched on the very edge of her chair as she furiously scribbles out a letter. 
“Mia…” I say gently, placing my hands on her shoulders. 
“One sec,” she mutters, pushing one paper addressed to Remus Lupin, her godfather, away and switching to a second piece of parchment and starting a second letter. 
“Who’s Padfoot?” I ask curiously, having never heard the name before. 
“Nobody,” she mutters distantly and I sigh, backing up a few steps. I stand in the middle of the room, my mind running a hundred miles a minute at who the hell she’s writing to. I grit my teeth as I try to control my jealousy and worries. After another minute of the scratching of her quill she stands and moves to grab her cloak. 
“Woah, where are you going?” I ask, stepping in front of her. 
“Owlery, I have to send these,” she says, not looking at me. Once Mia gets her mind set on something, not much can stop her. 
“Mia, just stop for a second and think! It’s dark and Harry will probably be back any minute. You can send them tomorrow!” I say, still blocking her path. 
“Mattheo, stop! Let me go! They have to know! I need their help!” Mia yells as panic starts to overtake her again. 
“No! Mia, just take a breath!” 
“Get out of my way!” 
“No!” I yell, and put my hand out towards her, without thinking, and she flinches. “Oh fuck, Mia. Princess, I’m sorry. I’m not gonna hurt you, I promise,” I say, lowering my voice and my hand slowly. My heart breaks as I look at my girlfriend looking at me like a cornered animal. 
“No, I know. I’m sorry,” Mia says, dropping her gaze to the floor and shaking her head. I hesitantly take a few steps forward until I’m standing toe to toe with her and reach out, lifting her chin so she looks up at me. 
“Don’t apologize. What they did to you is not your fault and I shouldn’t have yelled. I’m just… worried about you,” I say earnestly, cupping her face as a tear spills over her eyelashes. “Shit, I’m so sorry,” I whisper, pulling her into a hug and, finally, she relents into my embrace, shaking as sobs wrack her body. “You’re safe, baby, no one’s gonna hurt you.” 
After a few minutes, Mia takes a deep breath and steps back, moving to sit on her bed and I follow, sitting next to her. “Padfoot is Harry’s godfather… Better known as Sirius Black,” Mia says quietly. 
“What?” I say, surprised and turn to look at Mia.
“I’m gonna explain, it's a long story though, so just hang on, okay?” Mia says, setting the letters down on her nightstand and leaning abc against the headboard. I nod and lean against one of the posts of her bed, watching her intently as she tells me the story of her second to last night of fifth year. How she and Harry found out that Sirius Black is innocent and the person who betrayed her parents was actually Peter Pettigrew, who had been hiding as the Weasley family rat. 
“We write to him as Padfoot in case the Ministry intercepts one, so… yeah,” Mia finishes with a sigh and I can’t help but laugh, a memory resurfacing suddenly. “What? I’m telling the truth!” 
“No, I believe you, I just… So at that party last year when I asked if you had anything to do with Sirius Black escaping, well I just never thought you actually had!” I laugh, and after a moment Mia laughs too. 
“Bloody hell, I forgot about that,” she laughs, but too soon the levity fades from her face, worry creeping back in. I move to lay next to her and pull her into my embrace. She lays her head over my chest and wraps her arms tightly around my waist as I do the same around her shoulder, holding her close to me. 
“It’s gonna be okay,” I whisper into her hair, rubbing circles on her arm. “We’ll figure it out.” I hold her like this until her breathing evens out and she slips down into her dreams.
The first thing I notice when I wake, is Mia is nowhere to be found.
a/n; ayo new banner!! i was spending way too much time trying to find the perfect gifs so i decided to make a banner instead. the amount of time i spent on those stupid letters is kinda ridiculous
taglist; @purplegardenwhispers @somethingswiftandstyles @weasleyreidstyles @mayamonroem @girlbooklover555 @abaker74 @stxrsberkshire
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angelfic · 9 months
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— IF I CAN’T HAVE YOU BABY
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pairing: mattheo riddle x nott!reader
summary: you weren't quite used to the attention of other boys, and it seems your brother's best friend isn't too fond of it either
warnings: brother's best friend trope!! swearing, kissing, not much else, very much unedited
author’s note: i don't tend to stray outside of the marauders era characters buuuut i've been a bit obsessed with mattheo and theo recently so this was for my own selfish needs lol as always let me know what you think!!
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He had barely looked away from you all evening.
You knew the only reason Mattheo’s eyes had been fixed on you for the entirety of dinner was because of a certain type of attention you had unconsciously garnered on your first day back at school. Particularly male attention. It wasn’t any less disconcerting, however, knowing that your brother’s best friend was prepared to fist fight any potential romantic advances towards you because he was just as protective as your actual older sibling.
Your brother Theodore is no better, a displeased frown appearing every five minutes when he looks over to where you sit at the Gryffindor table.
“Merlin, boys are pathetic,” Ginny mutters, spearing a potato with her fork. “You go away for one summer and come back slightly prettier and they flock to you like bees to honey!” You’re about to weakly protest that she’s exaggerating, but at that exact moment you’re interrupted by a tap on your shoulder.
You slowly turn on the bench, reluctantly lowering your goblet of pumpkin juice to face Michael Corner, a Ravenclaw boy who you’d only ever spoken to when he was going out with Ginny.
“Hi, Michael,” you sigh, offering him a bland smile.
“Hello, Nott,” Michael replies, with what he probably thinks is a winning smile. “Had a good summer? I was just going to ask if you wanted to go on the first Hogsmeade visit of the term with me.”
You stare at him, unblinking. “Er- well, as… nice as that sounds,” you say slowly, not meaning a word. You glance at Ginny as pointedly as you can manage and raise an eyebrow. “I don’t quite relish the idea of going out with my best friend’s ex.”
“Oh! I, erm, I didn’t actually see you there, Ginny,” he stammers, laughing sheepishly. “My mistake.”
“Quite,” Ginny says drily, turning back to her plate of food.
“Well, er, see you later then,” Michael mumbles, nearly tripping over himself as he rushes back to the Ravenclaw table.
You bite your lip to stifle your giggles but it’s not long before you catch Ginny’s eye and the both of you erupt into fits of laughter.
“I can’t believe I ever went out with him,” Ginny groans, wiping her eyes.
“Was he always such a tosser or is that new?” you ask, snorting at the way Ginny scrunches up her face in embarrassment.
You’re still laughing when your eyes happen to pass over the Slytherin table just to focus on Mattheo.
You notice with a jolt that he’s looking at you again. This time, his eyes flick over to the Ravenclaw table for a second where Michael has settled back onto, then back to you and he quirks a brow quizzically.
Frowning, you mouth at him to stop in hopes that he ceases his scrutiny, just for him to roll his eyes and return to whatever one-sided conversation Blaise Zabini was attempting to engage him in. You hope you don’t look as flustered as you feel after realising Mattheo has just witnessed such an embarrassing encounter, but you’ve found over the years that you’re not the best at hiding the effects he has on you. Theo has never mentioned it in front of Mattheo as far as you’re aware, but he definitely hasn’t shied away from teasing you about the childhood crush you have on your brother’s closest friend. Not that you’ve ever admitted it to him anyway, and you’ve gotten a lot better at hiding it since nothing could ever come of it.
“Your brother and Riddle have been looking like they’re ready to halve the male population of Hogwarts since we got on the bloody train,” Ginny says, pulling you out of your thoughts.
“Tell me about it,” you sigh, cutting into your carrot a little more viciously than needed. “They keep looking over at our table. I feel like I’m on one of those Muggle reality television programmes Hermione was telling your dad about the other week.”
Arthur Weasley was absolutely transfixed when he was learning about reality television from Hermione during breakfast the week you both stayed at The Burrow, and although you zoned out after his sixteenth question about a singular programme, you feel as though you caught the gist of it.
“Hm,” Ginny agrees, grimacing at the memory. She had nodded off at the table during that conversation and fallen asleep on her slice of toast. “In fairness, that’s not really a new thing.”
“What, being watched by my two guard dogs?” you ask in a mock-serious voice.
“Yeah, but…” Ginny chews thoughtfully for a second before answering. “I’m not just talking about today, or even recently. Your brother mostly minds his own business. I’m talking about Riddle. He’s always looking at you, I noticed it last year. Wherever we are, kind of like he’s checking up on you,” she says like it’s common knowledge, shrugging. “It’s sweet, I guess.”
You blink at her, a little speechless.
“What?” Ginny frowns after a few seconds of your silence. You look at her with raised eyebrows, not really taking her seriously. In your first few years at Hogwarts, you had confided in Ginny regarding your silly, little girl feelings for Mattheo and she would read into every action he took towards you in an attempt to prove he liked you too. Obviously, he saw you as nothing but a younger sister figure and once you grew up a bit, Ginny had let it go too.
Ginny reads your dubious expression now and sets down her knife and fork to cross her arms. “Oh, for heaven’s sake. I’m serious! I’m not just saying it because you were helplessly in love with him until you were, like, fourteen.”
“Shush!” you hiss, thwacking her arm. “Why don’t you just get up on stage with Dumbledore and ask him to include that titbit of information for the entire school to hear in his speech!”
“Good idea,” she says, nodding seriously and starting to get up. You know she’s just teasing, but you start spluttering and frantically grab at her sleeve to sit her back down, causing her to topple onto you slightly. This sets you both off laughing again and you find it hard to stop for the rest of dinner and desert, thankfully staying far away from the topic of Mattheo. You also pointedly avoid looking at him again.
Once dinner is over, you head to the Gryffindor common room with the rest of your house and catch up with everyone for a while. After a couple hours of socialising and fifteen minutes of helping Neville Longbottom search for his pet toad, you head up to your dorm with Ginny and Lena, one of your other dormmates, to unpack.
As soon as you open your luggage, you search for your pyjamas and immediately change out of your robes and into a t-shirt and baggy shorts for comfort. You’re in the middle of unpacking some textbooks when you hear Lena whistle from behind you.
“I do not remember those pyjamas looking like that,” Lena comments, grinning at you. Rolling your eyes, you comply with her request to do a little spin and you can’t help feeling pleased when Lena and Ginny start whooping and hollering. “You’ve always been gorgeous, but you really grew up this summer, huh? Look at those legs!”
“Tell me about it,” Ginny pipes in, flopping down on her bed and abandoning her unpacked suitcase. “She came to stay for a week and Mum looked like she was going to cry every time she saw us. Something about ‘blossoming into young ladies’ or whatever bollocks.”
“You ‘blossomed’ last year,” you point out, and Lena hums in agreement. “I haven’t forgotten how Zacharias Smith fell off his broom trying to wave at you during Quidditch practice.”
Ginny groans and starts ranting about teenage boys again. Lena joins in and starts teasing her about how Harry Potter is the only boy she hasn’t complained about and you’re about to set down your belongings to help Lena dodge the pillows Ginny is throwing at her when a flash of green and silver in your suitcase catches your eye.
“Shite, I have Theo’s uniform,” you huff, grabbing the clothes out of your suitcase and sliding your slippers on. “That means he has mine and I am not dealing with this at seven in the morning. I’m gonna go drop this off, be back in a minute.”
Ginny says goodbye before resuming her pillow attack on Lena as you make your way out of the room and down into the common room. It’s nearly empty, with most people having gone to their rooms to pack and a quick glance at the clock tells you its past curfew. You decide to take the risk since you have a reasonable excuse, but you hope that if you do get caught, it isn’t by Filch or Snape.
By the time you’ve reached the dungeons, you thank Merlin that Theo had the sense to tell you the password for the Slytherin common room before dinner in case of emergency.
“Pureblood,” you mutter, fighting the urge to scoff when the door swings open. You enter the common room and brighten up when you see that the only students still hanging around are Theo and his friends. Your brother seems to have already started unpacking since he’s standing and holding your uniform, presumably about to come and find you. His friends all mumble polite ‘hello’s and he walks up to you with a smile.
“Oh, hey, I was just-” Theo cuts himself off when he properly looks at you and frowns. “Wha- Why are you wearing pyjamas out and about?”
“You’re wearing pyjamas too!” you exclaim, slightly embarrassed that your brother is doing this in front of your friends. They all turn to look at you again, hearing the indignation in Theo’s voice and you notice Mattheo suddenly sits up straighter. Suddenly aware of your bare legs, you tug down the material of your shorts, despite the fact they aren’t even very short to begin with.
“Oi. Stop looking at my sister!”” Theo snaps, glaring at Blaise, Draco, Crabbe and Goyle. You know the only reason they glanced at you in the first place is out of curiosity regarding Theo’s question, but Theo and Mattheo scowl at them all the same and they all start sputtering, Draco in particular when Pansy narrows her eyes at him. Theo sighs at you, quickly exchanging your uniforms. “Just- at least take something to cover up back to your room.”
“I’ll walk her back,” Mattheo says, out of nowhere. He stands up and makes his way over to you, face carefully blank. Theo nods, agreeing quickly before he ruffles your hair goodbye to go and finish packing. You’re too surprised by Mattheo’s offer to protest until you’re already out of the Slytherin common room.
“I don’t need someone to walk me back, you know,” you mumble after a minute of charged silence.
“It was either me or Theo,” he shrugs, completely unapologetic when his mouth quirks up in a smug smile. “And I know you prefer me.”
“You’re both equally annoying,” you say, rolling your eyes, happy that he’s talking to you like normal again. You hated it whenever Mattheo was serious – it was rarely ever towards you and you much preferred when his whole face lit up with a smile. He begins to tease you about your bunny rabbit slippers and you’re in the middle of pretending to be irked when you both run into Ernie Macmillan, a Hufflepuff prefect doing patrol duties.
“Hey,” Ernie offers you a friendly smile and gives Mattheo a brief, slightly nervous glance. While you prefer not to get into trouble for breaking curfew, Mattheo clearly couldn’t care less and his relaxed, yet intimidating stance must be off-putting to Ernie. Thankfully, you’re on friendly terms with the Hufflepuff and you give him an even brighter smile to make up for it, to which he beams at. “How was your summer?”
“Good, yeah! Erm, listen Ernie. We didn’t mean to be out at this time, it’s just that I accidentally had my brother’s uniform and needed to-”
“Oh, forget it. Don’t worry, I won’t dock you any points,” Ernie reassures you, waving off your excuses and you instantly relax. Ernie gives Mattheo another unsure glance before leaning in the tiniest bit closer to you. You try not to pay attention to how Ernie has been glancing at your legs and how Mattheo tenses up when Ernie starts speaking again. “I was actually wondering if you were available next weekend…?”
Ernie trails off when you don’t show any indication of replying straight away and you snap out of your surprise to say something, but Mattheo beats you to it.
“She’s busy then,” he says coldly, working his jaw. “Now, if you don’t mind, it’s late. Kindly get lost.”
“Wha- Matt!” you hiss, smacking his chest to which he barely flinches, nor does he look at all apologetic. “Ernie, I-”
“Never mind,” he says quickly, seemingly eager to just leave. “I’ll, er, see you later.”
You stand frozen in shock while Ernie rushes down the corridor and turns the corner, leaving you and Mattheo alone. Turning slowly, you look at him with barely contained anger.
“Why the hell did you do that?” you demand, voice sharp as nails. If it weren’t past curfew and you weren’t in the middle of a school corridor, you would most definitely be yelling. Mattheo stands with his hands in his pockets, clenching his jaw and his silence makes you even angrier. You accepted long ago that you’d never have a chance with him, but now he was getting in the way of you having a chance with anyone. It was completely unfair. “What if I actually wanted to go out with him?!”
Mattheo scowls at this, but his impossibly dark brown eyes flash with a hint of uncertainty. “Did you?”
“What?” you ask, impatient.
“Did you want to go out with him?” he says, voice low and dangerous. He walks forward, towering over you and you refuse to be intimidated so you start walking backward until your back is against the wall. Despite having cornered you, he maintains a fair amount of distance between you, leaving plenty of space if you want to move away. You don’t.
“That’s none of your business,” you say stubbornly, raising your chin and trying your best to keep your voice steady. Mattheo narrows his eyes and reduces the distance between you ever so slightly with another small step. You nervously keep talking. “I can go out with whoever I want.” Another step. “And you can’t just-” One more step. “Matt.” His shoes are flush with your slippers.
“What?” he whispers, tilting his head and looking at you calmly, while you feeling anything but calm. “I can’t just… what?”
The previously respectable distance has gone out the window and instead you barely have space to breathe with the way Mattheo is leaning in, head dipped toward you but never touching, hands resting on the wall either side of you. He leans in, eyes dropping to your lips and your heart leaps in your chest with anticipation, but he ghosts his lips over your jaw instead and the barely-there contact has you breathing unevenly.
“You can’t…” you exhale, trying to finish your sentence with some dignity and failing miserably. “You can’t just scare people off like an overprotective older brother.”
Mattheo stills, lifting his head enough to meet your eyes, but making no move to distance himself any further. He scoffs quietly. “Brother,” he says the word with a mildly disgusted scowl. “Is that what you think I want to be?”
“I- I don’t…”
“You don’t know,” Mattheo finishes for you, the corners of his mouth turning up, yet his expression is devoid of humour. “No, you don’t know how badly I wanted to hex Macmillan just now. How badly I wanted to try out some new, experimental spells on that fucking Ravenclaw earlier. But none of that had anything to do with brotherly feelings.”
“They were just being nice,” you say stupidly, with not a clue in the world as to why you’re defending them right now. If anything, you’re just confused.
Mattheo quirks a brow, tongue pressing against his cheek as he considers your words. “That Ravenclaw from earlier was talking about you on the train. He said he was going to ask you out at dinner because you’d ‘gotten hot’ over summer,” Mattheo sneers, like he’s suddenly regretting not hexing Michael Corner in the Great Hall. “They weren’t being nice.”
All of a sudden, you feel irritated because you have no idea why Mattheo is telling you any of this. “What’s wrong with a boy finding me attractive? Is that such a crazy idea?” you demand, part of you not wanting him to answer.
“Merlin, do I seriously have to say it?” he groans, sighing when you glare at him. Mattheo takes a breath, meeting your eyes and you marvel at the sincerity you see when he speaks. “You didn’t ‘get hot’ over the summer. You’ve always been beautiful and they’re idiots for not paying attention then.”
Your breath catches in your throat, whether it’s from emotion or from the close proximity with Mattheo, you aren’t sure. “You think I’m beautiful?”
Mattheo nods, leaning back in to brush his nose against your own, his breath mingling with yours. “Always have.”
You take this as a cue to grab the collar of his shirt and pull him in and the next thing you know, his mouth is firm against yours, and his hands are finally touching you, grabbing you by the waist and sliding up your back to hold you closer. You’ve thought about kissing Mattheo before, but the thoughts feel utterly stupid compared to the real thing. Mattheo kisses you fiercely, mouth sliding hot and wet against your own making you come alive and weakening you at the same time. He nips at your bottom lip and you gasp, causing him to smile into the kiss. Your hands are sliding up his chest to snake around his neck when a thought suddenly occurs to you and you pull away abruptly.
“Oh my God, Theodore,” you hiss, covering your mouth with your hand. Mattheo furrows his brows, looking a little dazed and confused. “What are we going to tell him?”
 “He knows I’ve loved you since we were kids,” Mattheo says flippantly, waving you off and impatiently starting to lean in again, but you stop him with a hand on his chest. “What?”
“You’ve loved me since we were kids?” The words hardly register, but before you can feel any sort of elation, you mostly feel pissed off that your brother has clearly had his fun with the situation for years. “And Theo knows?”
“Yes,” Mattheo says slowly, as if he were talking to a child. He brushes the hair out of your face and his gaze turns a little uncertain when he speaks. “Er, this is hopefully the part where you say you feel the same way.”
“Well, of course I feel the same way,” you huff, still thoroughly annoyed at Theo. “He knew I was crazily in love with you too and the bastard was so irritating about it!”
You’re about three quarters of the way down a list of ways you want to get back at your brother when Mattheo gently turns your face by the chin to look at him. “As much as I’d love for you to plot against your brother right now, it’s kind of a mood killer thinking about him when I’m kissing you.”
“Sorry, sorry. Continue with the kissing.”
“How romantic,” he says drily. His smirk turns smug, however, when he processes your previous statement. “So… you were in love with me too. What was the word you used, again? Crazily? Crazily in love…”
“Don’t make me take it back, ‘cause I swear I will.”
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© angelfic 2023.
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bettymylove · 6 months
Text
bad boy, good boy
pairing: mattheo riddle x theo nott x gn! reader
content: mattheo and theo are subs. 18+ based on this ask
a/n: this is the first time I'm writing sub!male and gn! reader. please give me tips on how to improve.
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mattheo had been downright disrespectful towards you this whole week, and you had decided a way of getting revenge.
of course you loved both of your boys, but you needed to teach him a lesson. so, after dinner you had leapt on theo kissing him as harshly as you can and he melted right away.
plan was working so far.
"I need you as well, darling" mattheo all but whined, and you swatted the hand that crept up around your neck to pull you back.
"bratty boys don't get my attention" you had answered and had made sure to add a smirk to tip him off more.
theo had started kissing your neck, pulling out a few moans and you had reached your hand downwards where he needed you the most.
mattheo sat watching all this, from the chair in the corner of the room.
palming theo's cock still in his pants, "who does this cock belong to?" you had asked a question all three of you knew the answer to.
"you, it's all for you" he had said in between deep moans and heavy grunts, about to come in his pants and he did just a few moments after.
you had beelined your way to the chair mattheo was sitting on a grympy look on his face, "since you behaved like a good boy, you get a reward."
you had jumped on his lap grinding on his already hard cock,"do you want, what i just did to theo?" and he just nodded in response
6K notes · View notes
sadnymi · 1 month
Text
「 ✦ cloud nine. ✦ 」
Mattheo riddle x reader [part2]
Summary: The "jinx girl," as they call her, is said to bring bad luck. However, when Mattheo Riddle decides to get to know the school's most neglected girl and takes matters into his own hands, Y/N's life is turned upside down in a mere night.
Warnings:fluff,smut, angst
Words: 11.2k
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The whispers followed me like a shroud, a constant murmur that swirled around the edges of my existence. "The jinx girl ," they hissed, punctuated by snickers and pointed fingers. Bad luck, they believed, clung to me like a second skin, a misfortune I carried wherever I went.
Hogwarts, a place that promised magic and wonder, had become a labyrinth of avoidance. Empty seats flanked me in Potions, desks strategically moved away in Charms, and hushed conversations abruptly stopped when I entered the room. I was a pariah, a freak, the girl who supposedly brought misfortune upon anyone who dared come close.
Every dropped potion, every sprained ankle, every lost Quidditch match - all blamed on me, Y/N Y/L/N, the harbinger of bad luck. Hogwarts, once a dream, had become a prison. Even the ghosts seemed to cower at my presence.
Professor Flitwick, a whirlwind of energy and charm despite his diminutive stature, announced a project for our Charms class.
"Partnering up for a Conjuring Extravaganza!" he squeaked, his voice a high-pitched melody. "Showcase your enchanting skills with a partner of your choosing!"
The room erupted in excited chatter, students scrambling to find their partners. I, however, remained rooted to the spot, a familiar ache twisting in my gut. Who would want to pair up with the cursed child? As if sensing my despair, Professor Flitwick's bright blue eyes twinkled in my direction.
"Don't worry, Miss Y/L/N," he chirped, "there's always a perfect match for everyone!"
His words offered little comfort. The pairings continued, each giggling duo a stark reminder of my isolation. Just when I resigned myself to another solo project, a voice cut through the din.
"I'll pair with Y/L/N ."
The classroom fell silent. Heads swiveled in unison, disbelief etched on their faces. It was Mattheo Riddle, the Slytherin prince with a reputation as sharp as his intellect .
Professor Flitwick, however, beamed like a firework had gone off in his tiny fist. "Excellent choice, Mr. Riddle!"
My jaw dropped. Mattheo Riddle? Partnering with me ? the jinxing girl ? It was as unexpected as a dragon hatching a pixie. A ripple of surprised murmurs coursed through the class. Did he just volunteer? Was this a cruel joke?
stole a glance at Mattheo, half expecting a smirk or a sly wink that would shatter the illusion of kindness.
But instead, he met my gaze with a genuine, albeit hesitant, smile. It was a rare sight on his usually stoic face, a flicker of warmth that sent a jolt through me. He sauntered over, his confident stride somehow softened as he approached me.
"Fancy working together, (Y/N)?" he asked, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down my spine. It was the first time he'd ever addressed me directly, to talk to , and the informality sent a wave of heat rushing to my cheeks.
"I... I uh, sure," I stammered, still struggling to process the situation.
Professor Flitwick launched into the specifics of the project, outlining the different magical creatures we could try conjuring. Mattheo, however, seemed more interested in me. He leaned closer, his voice barely a whisper.
"So," he began, his eyes twinkling with amusement, "what kind of magic are you most comfortable with love ?"he said, pulling up a chair next to me.
My heart skipped a beat. No one had ever used that term – "love" – with me before. It was a small word, but in that moment, it felt like a lifeline thrown across the chasm of isolation.
A hesitant smile tugged at my lips. "I, uh, I'm actually quite good with summoning charms," I confessed, surprised by my own boldness.
His smile widened. "Excellent," he said, his voice filled with genuine enthusiasm. "I'm more of a transfiguration specialist. We could combine our strengths."
Combine our strengths? The thought of working alongside Mattheo, of learning from him and maybe even teaching him a thing or two myself, sent a thrill through me.
A comfortable silence settled between us as we delved into the project details. Professor Flitwick's lecture faded into background noise . Mattheo surprised me with his easygoing nature, his sharp intellect tempered with a dry wit that made me laugh, a sound that felt foreign escaping my lips.
Finally, Professor Flitwick called out the end of class. "Alright, class! Dismissed! Remember, be creative, be precise, and most importantly, have fun!"
My heart still hammered in my chest, a mixture of trepidation and a strange, exhilarating thrill. Mattheo gathered his books, and as he turned to leave, he caught my eye “ see you around Y/L/N “
The crisp autumn air sent a shiver down my spine as I settled onto the worn wooden bench in the school gardens. pulled out the book I burrowed from the library earlier , determined to bury myself in its intricacies and forget the entire debacle.
The rhythmic crunch of gravel on the path drew my attention. I glanced up, bracing myself for another encounter with Pansy and her posse, only to find Mattheo approaching. His expression was unreadable, a mix of curiosity and something I couldn't quite decipher.
He stopped a few steps away, a silent question hanging in the air. Surprised, I stammered, "M-Mattheo? What are you doing here?"
A hint of a smile played at the corners of his lips. "Mind if I join you?" he asked, his voice softer than I was accustomed to hearing from him.
My heart hammered a frantic rhythm against my ribs. Was this real? "I, uh, sure," I managed, gesturing to the empty space beside me.
He sat down, our shoulders brushing slightly. The silence stretched, thick with unspoken words. Stealing a glance at him, I noticed his gaze fixed on the book in my lap. "Studying for the Charms exam?"
I shook my head. "Actually, this is more of a personal read. It's about obscure magical creatures."
His eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Oh? Intriguing. Anything interesting?"
Hesitantly, I explained the book's exploration of Fae lore, their connection to emotions and the delicate balance they maintained with the human world.
To my surprise, Mattheo listened intently, occasionally asking insightful questions that sparked further discussion. We delved into the complexities of Fae magic, debated the ethics of human interaction with these mythical beings.
A playful glint flickered in his dark eyes, and a hint of a smile danced on his lips as he listened to my passionate explanation of Fae lore.
"Why – why are you smiling like that?" I asked hesitantly
"You just look so passionate about it," he explained, a genuine smile gracing his features.
"Actually, it’s totally my uncle fault he was the one who got me into it," I confessed, a fond smile playing on my lips. "He used to read me Fae tales before bed when I was young. Now here I am, analyzing their magical properties."
"Are you close with your uncle?" he asked, his voice gentle.
"Yeah, very close," I replied, then hesitated, a shadow crossing my face.
He picked up on the shift in my mood. "Everything okay?"
Taking a deep breath, I blurted out the question that had been gnawing at me since the library. "Why are you doing this, Mattheo? Is this a dare or something?"
He frowned, genuine confusion etched on his face. "Why would you say that?"
"You know," I rambled, gesturing at the empty garden around us. "Aren't you afraid?"
"Afraid of what?" He tilted his head, his dark eyes holding a hint of amusement.
My breath caught in my throat as he reached out, a playful glint in his eyes. He brushed a stray strand of hair from my face, sending shivers down my spine. "Me?" I whispered, barely a breath escaping my lips.
He smirked, amusement flickering across his face. "You look pretty cute to even scare a fly, love. Why should I be afraid of you?"
His words, laced with a hint of flirtation, left me speechless. His touch, light as a feather, lingered on my cheek, sending a jolt of electricity through me.
"You don't understand," I stammered, my voice barely above a whisper. "Look at the garden, no one is here because I'm here. They believe... they believe —"
He cut me off before I could finish my frantic explanation. "But I'm here, aren't I, love?" he said, his voice a husky murmur. My heart pounded like a drum solo, the world around us seeming to fade away.
"You shouldn't be," I managed, my voice small and breathless. "I don't understand why."
"I'm not playing games with you, I promise," he replied, his voice firm. I hesitantly nodded, closing my eyes as the weight of his words settled upon me.
"I'm sorry," I whispered, a heavy sigh escaping my lips.
"Don't be," he said softly. "I understand. And you know what? I don't care what they say. And to be honest I don't even care if it was true..."
smiling , I looked up , meeting his gaze."So you're the first "
He leaned back, a playful smile dancing on his lips. "Let's just say," he began, his voice low and intriguing, "I know you weren't the reason Ronald broke his leg before the last Quidditch match."
A surprised laugh escaped my lips."And," he continued, his smile widening, "I also know that the explosion in Potions last year was entirely Harold's fault, not yours."
I burst out laughing, the sound echoing through the quiet garden. The weight of the whispers seemed to lift with each peal, replaced by a lightness I hadn't felt in years
"You were just there, like everybody else," he said, his voice tinged with amusement. "So why would you take the blame for that?"
He leaned forward, his face so close now that my laughter subsided, replaced by a nervous flutter in my chest. "You know what they say about what happened in first year," I began, voice barely above a whisper.
"It stays with you till your last," he finished the saying, his dark eyes holding mine. A grateful smile tugged at my lips.
"So when Charlie from down the street brought the rumors from our neighborhood to school, and then spread that story about me jinxing Seamus during his first Quidditch practice.. and let's just say Neville's unfortunate Gillyweed incident didn't help my case too so a that everybody seemed to believe it ," I explained, finally voicing the truth I hadn't thought anyone would ever be interested in hearing.
"That's not fair," Mattheo said, his voice firm.
"Yeah," I sighed, "but as my Nana always says, some children are born with tragedies in their hands." A bittersweet smile crossed my lips. "And by some children, she means me."
"She sounds like a cruel woman," he muttered.
I laughed, a touch brittle. "If you think my Nana is cruel, you should've met my mother then."
The words tumbled out before I could stop them, a confession I hadn't meant to share. My cheeks burned with a sudden, hot shame. Mattheo, however, didn't seem repulsed. In fact, his expression softened further.
My voice trailed off, the weight of the past suddenly overwhelming. Sharing a secret like that felt like opening a wound I'd painstakingly hidden for years. The air hung heavy with unspoken words, the setting sun casting long shadows across the quiet garden.
"I-I think I should get going," I stammered, pushing myself out of the chair, my resolve shaky at best.
A cool hand gripped my wrist, stopping me in my tracks. My breath hitched as I turned to face him , his gaze a storm of emotions swirling within its depths "Don't run away yet."
My cheeks burned even hotter, but I couldn't seem to tear my gaze away from his. "I'm not running," I mumbled, my voice barely above a whisper.
He didn't release my wrist. Instead, his grip softened, his thumb gently stroking a soothing circle against my skin. The simple touch sent a shiver down my spine, a stark contrast to the cold isolation I'd grown accustomed to.
"Then can I interest you in some Butterbeer tomorrow evening?" he asked, his voice laced with a playful charm. "Three Broomsticks, perhaps? We could continue our discussion about Fae magic, or maybe you could tell me more about your Nana and your… interesting family history."
A surprised laugh escaped my lips. The idea of spending another evening with Mattheo, outside the confines of a school project, sent a thrill through me.
A smile, genuine and unrestrained, bloomed on my face. "I'd like that," I replied, my voice a whisper against the backdrop of the settling evening.
Sleep that night was a distant dream. The events in the garden replayed in my mind on an endless loop. Mattheo's hand in mine, the warmth of his touch lingering like a phantom sensation, his unexpected concern for my story – it all sent butterflies fluttering in my stomach.
The morning sun filtering through my dormitory window found me wide awake, staring at the ceiling with a tangled mess of hair and a giddy smile plastered on my face.
But then came the most agonizing decision of the day – what to wear? My trunk overflowed with the usual witchy robes, all shades of black and grey. None seemed appropriate for a… date? Was it a date? My cheeks burned at the thought.
Finally, I settled on a compromise. A dark green skirt that swirled around my knees, a crisp black blouse , and my trusty black boots. It wasn't extravagant, but it felt… me.
The walk to the Three Broomsticks was a mess a disaster as I was trying to figure out the right direction . As I pushed open the creaky oak door,I tried to breathe and calm my self down, My eyes scanned the room, searching for Mattheo amidst the bustling patrons.
And then I saw him, tucked away in a corner booth, a solitary figure amidst the chatter and laughter. Relief washed over me, followed by a jolt of something warmer as our eyes met. A smile tugged at the corner of his lips, and he gestured for me to join him.
My heart hammered a frantic rhythm against my ribs as I walked towards him, a self-conscious fluttering in my stomach. Reaching the table, I slid into the booth opposite him.
his gaze lingering a beat longer than necessary on my face. "you..," he finally said, a low whistle escaping his lips. "You look..." he trailed off, searching for the right word.
My cheeks flushed a rosy hue . "I look?"
A slow smile spread across his face. "Radiant," he finished, his voice a husky murmur.
My breath hitched. No one had ever used that word to describe me before. "Radiant?" I repeated, a nervous laugh escaping my lips.
"Absolutely," he said, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "Though, I have to say, for a second I thought you weren’t coming “
“ oh I’m so sorry I was just trying to find the way I, uh, I've never actually been to the Three Broomsticks before," I admitted, hoping to deflect from his unexpected compliment.
His eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Never? But it's practically a Hogwarts tradition!"
. "I guess I've been more focused on the library and…avoiding crowds."
A flicker of understanding crossed his face. "Well, consider this your official initiation," he said, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Prepare to be overwhelmed by sticky tables, questionable singing."
The waitress returned with our drinks, placing them carefully on the table.
Suddenly, the door creaked open, momentarily shattering our peaceful bubble. A boisterous group of students, their laughter echoing through the room, flooded in. My stomach lurched as I recognized them – Charlie Spinnet , flanked by his usual entourage of Crabbe and Goyle, and Pansy Parkinson, her face twisted in a sneer.
Unlike the usual sneer of Pansy Parkinson, Charlie's expression was a confusing mix of anger and… was that a hint of disappointment ? He locked eyes with me, and for a fleeting moment, I saw a flicker of something more complex in his gaze before it hardened back into a scowl.
Before I could decipher the meaning of it all, Pansy spotted us. Her voice, dripping with her usual malice, sliced through the warm bubble we'd created. "Look who is there," she drawled, directing a flirtatious smile towards Mattheo. "Hello there, Riddle."
Mattheo responded with his trademark icy drawl, "Parkinson. Always a pleasure."
She gave a curt nod before returning to her group. Charlie, however, didn't follow. His gaze remained fixed on me, an unsettling intensity in his eyes. I met his stare, a knot of unease forming in my gut.
"He's jealous," Mattheo said casually, leaning back in his seat. My jaw dropped.
"Jealous? Of what?" I stammered, completely bewildered.
"He likes you ," he replied with a knowing smirk.
A bewildered laugh escaped my lips. "He likes me ? Mattheo, the boy ruined my life" I interjected, my voice laced with a sharp edge. In truth, life hadn't been a cakewalk before Hogwarts either.
Just then, a loud shattering sound erupted from our table, sending shivers down my spine. My cup of butterbeer, which Charlie had probably targeted with a stray jinx spell , lay in pieces on the floor. Gasps and murmurs rippled through the pub as everyone turned to stare
I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to control the spike of panic rising in my chest. This was exactly what I'd feared. when I opened my eyes again, my gaze met Mattheo's.
Unlike me, he wasn't angry. Instead, a mischievous glint sparkled in his dark eyes. he was smirking.
"So, you said this is your first time at the Three Broomsticks, love?" he asked, a playful smile on his lips as he stood up. I felt a pit forming in my stomach, unsure of where this was headed.
"Yeah," I mumbled, my voice barely above a whisper.
"Then let's make it unforgettable," he declared, his smile widening. He turned towards Charlie's table, his gaze locking onto Charlie's. Pansy, who had been watching the exchange with a mixture of amusement and apprehension, suddenly looked terrified.
Mattheo strolled over to their table, a confident swagger in his step. Reaching down, he casually lifted Charlie's untouched butterbeer He held it out to me with a charming smile. "Here, love," he said, not sparing Charlie a glance.
Charlie watched the exchange, his jaw clenched. "Is there anything you want to say, Spinnet?" Mattheo asked, his voice deceptively calm. Charlie just shook his head.
"Do you like toads?" Mattheo asked again a question so out of place it left us all speechless.
"S-seems like I do," Charlie stammered, his voice barely a squeak.
"Good," Mattheo said simply.
Then, in a blink, it happened. A blinding flash of light erupted from Mattheo's outstretched wand, enveloping Charlie. Before anyone could react, the speechless Charlie had vanished, replaced by a , green toad hopping comically on the table.
My scream was lost in the cacophony of shouts and gasps. Pansy let out a bloodcurdling shriek, scrambling back in her chair. Crabbe, for once, looked utterly bewildered.
Mattheo remained calm amidst the chaos, a dangerous glint in his eyes. Ignoring the stunned patrons, he reached for his pocket and placed a couple of pills on our table.
"I would take him back to the castle if I were you," he said to Pansy with a chilling smile. "Unless you prefer the company of amphibians."
Pansy was speechless, her face pale with a mixture of fear and fury. All she could manage was a strangled, "Merlin's Beard!"
Turning back to me, Mattheo offered his hand with his usual nonchalant charm. "Shall we go, love?" he asked, his voice a gentle contrast to the chaos he'd just unleashed.
We walked in comfortable silence for a while, following the familiar path towards the Black Lake. Finally, we reached the water's edge, the gentle lapping of waves against the shore providing a soothing counterpoint to the earlier frenzy. Mattheo gestured towards a large, flat rock nestled under a willow tree. "Mind joining me?" he asked, a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes.
I nodded, still processing the events of the evening. Charlie's transformation, Pansy's terror, it was all a bit surreal. Sitting down on the rock, I pulled my knees to my chest, trying to calm the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside me.
"So," Mattheo began, a playful lilt to his voice, "first date, and I turn your potential bully into a toad. Not exactly the charming introduction I was hoping for."
I glanced at him, surprised. "Date?" I stammered, a blush creeping up my cheeks.
His smile softened. "Well," he began, " we did ditch the project discussion for butterbeer and…, then turning someone into a toad… definitely not your typical Tuesday."
I couldn't help but laugh, My heart hammered a frantic rhythm against my ribs. "I… I never thought…" I stammered, completely flustered.
He reached out, gently tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear. His touch sent shivers down my spine. "Neither did I," he confessed, his voice surprisingly soft.
"Thank you," I said, taking a deep breath, " it's the first time anyone has ever defended me like that. Not since my Uncle."
Mattheo's smile softened. "Well," he said, his voice gentle, "consider me your knight in slightly-unconventional-Slytherin-armor then."
I laughed a blush crept up my cheek
Silence descended between us, broken only by the gentle chirping of crickets and the lapping of the lake.
"You mentioned your Uncle," Mattheo said, his voice curious. "Tell me about him."
"He's a bit of a character," I began, a smile playing on my lips. "He travels the world, studying ancient magic. He's probably in some remote location right now, chasing myths and legends he’s so brave ."
"Sounds fascinating," Mattheo commented, his voice laced with genuine interest. "But you're not close with anyone else in your family?"
The question hung in the air, and I hesitated for a moment, unsure how much to reveal. But something about the sincerity in his eyes, made me want to share a part of myself I rarely opened up about.
"Well, I'm not exactly their favorite," I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper. "You see, my arrival wasn't exactly... welcomed."
Mattheo's brow furrowed in concern. "What do you mean?" he asked gently.
Taking a deep breath, I plunged into the murky waters of my past. "My mother ,she found out she was pregnant with me. At the same time, she learned about my late brother's… illness. He died tragically, just two days before I was born."
"She… she blamed me," I continued, my voice barely above a whisper. "She believed I somehow took his place, that I was the reason he was gone."
He squeezed my hand gently, as if offering silent comfort.
"And your father?" he asked, his voice low and controlled.
"My father," I said, a bitter laugh escaping my lips. "He said I stole his son's place. He never showed me any affection, always seeing a shadow of my brother instead of me."
My throat tightened, and I struggled to continue.
"But then there’s nana … well, she is a healer," I began, taking a shaky breath"She believed in a strange kind of balance. She used to say, 'A soul for a soul.'" A shiver ran down my spine as I recalled the chilling words. "'Sometimes,' she'd say, 'life takes one thing and gives another’. She just wished it had been my brother who lived."
"Y/N," he said, his voice low and serious. "That's a terrible thing to say to a child. None of that is your fault. You didn't ask to be born, and you certainly didn't cause your brother's illness."
Tears welled up in my eyes, blurring my vision. The weight of their rejection, the constant reminder that I was somehow unwanted, had always been a heavy burden to carry.
Then, with a tenderness that took my breath away, he brushed his thumb across my cheek, wiping away a stray tear. The simple gesture, so full of empathy and understanding, felt like a dam breaking inside me. The tears that I'd been holding back spilled over, flowing freely down my cheeks.
Mattheo didn't flinch. He didn't pull away. He simply sat there, his hand cupping my face, his gaze holding mine with an intensity that both scared and excited me.
In a voice barely above a whisper, he said, "They don't deserve you , Not your mother, not your father, not sure your weird grandmother . They are blind to the incredible person you are."
His words, sincere and heartfelt, washed over me like a soothing balm.
"You are strong," he continued, his voice husky with emotion. "You are brave. You are kind. You carry the weight of their cruelty, yet you remain kind. That is a strength they will never possess."
His thumb continued to brush away my tears, his touch sending shivers down my spine.
As he spoke, the space between our faces seemed to shrink. I could feel the warmth of his breath on my lips, his gaze holding mine captive. The air crackled with a tension that was both exhilarating and terrifying.
Then, before I could even think to stop him, Mattheo leaned in closer. The world around us seemed to fade away, leaving only the warmth of his hand on my face and the anticipation building within me.
His lips met mine in a soft, tentative kiss. It was a fleeting touch, barely a whisper, yet it sent a jolt of electricity through me.
He pulled back slightly, his eyes searching mine. A nervous smile tugged at the corner of his lips.," is this your first kiss? “ he murmured, his voice husky.
A slow nod confirmed his suspicion , he leaned in again, this time deepening the kiss. This kiss was different – moving with a rhythmic dance that spoke volumes of unspoken emotions.
When we finally broke apart, breathless and slightly dazed, a blush crept up my cheeks. My heart hammered against my ribs, a frantic drum solo echoing in the quiet night.The taste of his lips lingered on mine, a sweet and intoxicating sensation that left me craving more.
"So," he said, his voice slightly breathless. "Forget everything I said about first impressions being unforgettable. Maybe this is a better way to start things off."
The next weeks unfolded like a whirlwind. Mattheo became a constant presence in my life, his shadow seemingly falling across mine with an uncanny frequency. Whether it was bumping into him "accidentally" on my way to Herbology, finding him "coincidentally" seated across from me in the library buried in the same obscure text on Fae magic, or him "miraculously" appearing just as I was leaving the Great Hall, it was clear he was making a concerted effort to be around me.
His tactics, though slightly obvious, were nonetheless charming. He started leaving small gifts on my desk – a fascinating book on Veela lore, a single perfect white rose
No one had ever gone out of their way to make me feel special before. Mattheo was doing just that, chip by chip, breaking down the walls I'd built around myself.
His "accidental" helpfulness extended to academics as well. He started leaving me beautifully illustrated books on ancient magic, conveniently "forgotten" on my desk. During Potions, he'd mysteriously materialize behind me just as I was about to accidentally add Flobberworm mucus to my Amortentia potion (a near disaster that could have had…interesting consequences).
One afternoon, while struggling with a particularly complex Transfiguration spell, Mattheo walked in on my frustration. He didn't laugh or poke fun,Instead, he sat down beside me, his patience as impressive as his knowledge. He explained the spell with a clarity I hadn't experienced before, his hand brushing against mine as he pointed something out on my parchment.
By the end of the week, I'd not only mastered the spell but found myself drawn to Mattheo in a way I hadn't before.
Mattheo's efforts extended beyond "accidents." He started introducing me to his friends. Theo and blaise ,Then there was Enzo, Mattheo's half-brother. With his playful demeanor and infectious laugh, Enzo made me feel welcome within their circle. I found myself enjoying their company, their camaraderie a stark contrast to the loneliness I had grown accustomed to.
One evening, while studying in the common room, , Enzo, sauntered over , He slid into the seat next to me, ignoring Mattheo's glare.
"Hey there, love," Enzo said, his voice dripping with a flirtatiousness that made me feel uncomfortable. "Studying hard?"
Before I could respond, Mattheo spoke up. "Enzo, perhaps you haven't noticed, but Y/N is busy."
Enzo simply chuckled. "Relax, brother. Just trying to be friendly." He leaned in closer to me
Enzo whispered, "He can be quite possessive, don’t you agree?" I couldn’t help but laugh, which was Mattheo’s last straw.
"Back off, Enzo," the words laced with barely contained anger , Enzo smiled and with a shrug and a playful wink at me, he sauntered away.
The most surprising consequence, however, was the complete absence of whispers. The rumors that had plagued me since childhood seemed to vanish overnight. Not a single snide remark, not a single pointed finger. The silence was deafening, and yet, strangely comforting.
Was it fear of Mattheo, or something more? Either way, I didn't question my newfound peace.
The stolen moments with Mattheo became a cherished secret language.
One particularly rainy evening, after a long and tedious double Potions lesson, Mattheo found me huddled in the deserted library, desperately trying (and failing) to decipher a particularly cryptic passage in a dusty old tome.
"Having trouble with the love language of Goblins, love?" he drawled, his voice a welcome sound in the quiet of the library.
I looked up, startled, my cheeks flushing at the sight of him. "Mattheo, you scared me!"
He chuckled, his eyes twinkling. "Just offering my expertise in the finer points of ancient languages," he said, a playful glint in his eyes.
He pulled up a chair next to me, the scent of his cologne filling my senses. As he leaned closer, his voice dropping to a whisper as he attempted to translate the passage, a spark ignited between us.
Emboldened by the privacy of the deserted library and the frustration of the Gobbledegook text, I turned to face him, my lips brushing against his ear as I pointed to a particularly confusing line.
Suddenly, the air crackled with unspoken desire. Mattheo's hand cupped my cheek, his thumb gently tracing the line of my jaw. His gaze held mine, a storm brewing in its depths.
"There's another way to learn this language," he murmured, his voice husky with suppressed longing.
Before I could respond, he closed the gap between us. The kiss was different this time. It was slow, searing, filled with a raw emotion that sent shivers down my spine. It was a kiss that spoke not just of affection, but of a growing possessiveness, a silent claim on my heart.
We pulled away breathlessly, foreheads resting together. The quiet of the library thrummed with the intensity of the unspoken words hanging in the air.
"Maybe Gobbledegook isn't so bad after all," I finally whispered, a shy smile playing on my lips.
Mattheo chuckled, a deep sound that resonated within me. "Perhaps not," he agreed, his eyes lingering on mine for a beat longer than necessary.
One blustery afternoon, while seeking refuge from a sudden downpour in a hidden alcove near the greenhouses, we found ourselves alone. The air crackled with unspoken tension as we stood shoulder-to-shoulder, the rain drumming a steady rhythm on the stone walls.
He cleared his throat, his gaze flickering from my face to the storm raging outside. "This weather is something else, isn't it?" he said, his voice barely a whisper above the wind.
"Unpredictable, like magic itself," I replied, my own voice barely a murmur.
Suddenly, he turned to face me, his eyes a storm brewing within them. Before I could react, he cupped my face in his hands, his touch sending shivers down my spine. The space between us evaporated as he leaned in, his breath warm against my cheek.
"You're unpredictable too, Y/N," he murmured, his voice husky with something raw and primal. "In the best way possible."
And then, he kissed me. It was a kiss unlike any I'd ever experienced. It was fierce and passionate, filled with a yearning that mirrored my own.
I was hunched over a particularly dense text on Herbology, wrestling with the intricacies of magical plant growth, when a shadow fell across the page.
Looking up, I met Mattheo's gaze, a teasing glint in his dark eyes. "Lost in the world of Venomous Tentacula again, love?" he asked, his voice a low rumble that sent a shiver down my spine.
I swatted playfully at his hand, a smile tugging at my lips. "These Bulbadox Bulbs are more stubborn than they look," I grumbled.
He chuckled, leaning closer. "Maybe they just need the right touch," he murmured, his breath warm on my ear.
Before I could react, he reached out, his fingers brushing lightly against the offending passage. A jolt of electricity shot through me, my heart skipping a beat. He lingered for a moment too long, his touch sending goosebumps erupting across my skin.
"See?" he said, a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes. "Sometimes understanding comes from a different kind of connection."
His words were a playful jab, but the intensity of his gaze held a deeper meaning. I felt my cheeks flush, a secret smile spreading across my face.
"Maybe," I replied, unable to tear my gaze from his.
The silence stretched between us, thick with unspoken emotions. Then, with a slow, deliberate movement, Mattheo leaned in further. His lips brushed against the sensitive skin of my neck, sending a wave of warmth cascading through me.
It was a soft, lingering exploration. He trailed a finger down my neck, sending shivers dancing across my exposed skin. My breath hitched in my throat, and I leaned back into his touch, a helpless moan escaping my lips.
He chuckled against my skin, a low, throaty sound that sent a delicious tremor through me. "You should see the way you blush, Y/N," he murmured, his voice husky with desire.
My cheeks burned even hotter. This wasn't the stolen kiss under the moonlight, this was something more intimate, more raw. It was a secret shared between us, a confirmation of the growing connection that thrummed beneath the surface.
Suddenly, the library door slammed open, shattering the intimate moment. Madam Pince, the stern librarian, swept in, her beady eyes scanning the room. Mattheo and I both straightened up, a sheepish grin on his face.
"No hanky-panky in the Restricted Section, young man," Madam Pince barked, her voice laced with suspicion.
Mattheo, ever the charmer, flashed her a boyish grin. "Just helping a friend with her research, Madam Pince," he said, his voice dripping with mock innocence.
Madam Pince narrowed her eyes at us for a moment longer before muttering something about "frivolous students" and disappearing behind a towering bookshelf.
As soon as she was gone, Mattheo let out a low whistle, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "Looks like we've been caught," he said, a hint of regret in his voice.
I couldn't help but laugh, the tension broken. "Maybe we should stick to the Herbology section next time," I teased, butterflies still fluttering in my stomach from his touch.
He took my hand, his fingers intertwining with mine. "Maybe," he agreed, his eyes holding mine. "But who knows what secrets lurk in the Restricted Section?"
Suddenly, a voice broke through my concentration. "Y/N!"
I looked up to see Charlie Spinnet standing awkwardly in front of me, a hopeful smile plastered on his face. My stomach lurched, a flicker of unease coursing through me.
"Charlie," I stammered, unsure of what to say.
"Hey," he said, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. "Can I talk to you for a second?"
Before I could answer, mattheo’s voice cut in, laced with a dangerous edge.
"Actually, she can't," Mattheo drawled, His eyes narrowed at Charlie, a dark glint flickering within them.
Charlie gulped, his hopeful smile faltering. "M-Mattheo," he stammered. "I just wanted to…"
"Whatever it is," Mattheo interrupted, his voice low and cold, "it can wait."
The tension between them was thick enough to cut with a knife. My heart hammered against my ribs, caught between the awkwardness of Charlie's unexpected presence and the possessiveness radiating from Mattheo.
"But—" Charlie began, but Mattheo cut him off again.
"No buts, Spinnet," Mattheo said, his voice dripping with disdain. "Now, if you'll excuse us,"
He took my hand possessively, his fingers wrapping around mine with a force that left no room for argument. Before Charlie could stammer another word, Mattheo practically dragged me away.
We walked in silence for a moment, the only sound our hurried footsteps echoing through the empty corridor. My cheeks burned with a mixture of annoyance and a strange sense of… satisfaction?
"Mattheo, that was a bit harsh," I finally said, breaking the silence.
He stopped abruptly, turning to face me. His gaze was intense, a storm brewing within its depths.
"He shouldn't have bothered you," he said, his voice low and possessive.
"He was just trying to talk to me," I pointed out, a hint of defiance creeping into my voice.
"And what exactly did he want to talk about?" Mattheo challenged, his jaw clenched.
"I don't know," I admitted, shrugging my shoulders. "But I should have been allowed to find out, shouldn't I?"
Mattheo seemed to wrestle with himself for a moment, his emotions flickering across his face. Finally, he sighed, the tension slowly ebbing away.
"Look," he said, his voice softer now, "I just… don't like the idea of someone else getting close to you."
My heart skipped a beat. Was he… jealous?
"Why not?" I couldn't help but ask, a teasing smile playing on my lips.
He hesitated – a rare sight that sent a thrill through me.
"Because…" he stammered, searching for the right words. "Because maybe you mean more to me than I care to admit."
The words hung in the air. A smile bloomed on my face, wider than it had in weeks.
"Is that so, Riddle?" I said, my voice barely a whisper.
He met my gaze, his eyes filled with a newfound vulnerability. Leaning in closer, he brushed a stray strand of hair from my face with his thumb.
"Maybe it is," he murmured, his lips hovering tantalizingly close to mine.
Before we could explore that maybe any further, a loud cough echoed through the corridor. We sprang apart, startled, to see a smirking Enzo leaning against the doorway, his arms crossed.
"Oh please don’t let me stop you ," he teased, his eyes twinkling with amusement.
Mattheo scowled, his usual bravado returning. "Get lost, Enzo," he snapped.
Enzo, unfazed, simply chuckled. "Just making sure you're not neglecting your studies, brother dearest," he said, his voice dripping with mock concern. "Professor Flitwick wouldn't be happy if he caught you missing his lecture because you can’t keep your hands to yourself those days "
My cheeks burned even hotter. "We weren't… ," I stammered, my voice barely above a whisper.
Enzo chuckled. "Whatever you say, sweetheart . But don't worry, your secret's safe with me." He leaned in conspiratorially. "Though, if you're looking for a more private place next time, I know a few hidden alcoves that are perfect for… well, you get the idea."
"Thanks, Enzo," I said smiling trying to get away from this conversation as fast as possible .
"Anytime," he replied, throwing a playful two-finger salute before disappearing back down the corridor.
Mattheo and I stared at each other for a long moment, the tension thick in the air.
"I think I need to go …" I began, unsure how to proceed “ see you at ummm….”
"...Great Hall," Mattheo finished my sentence, his voice laced with a hint of disappointment. Though his earlier possessiveness had surprised me, I couldn't deny a flicker of warmth at his reluctance to see me go.
"Yeah, the Great Hall," I confirmed, unable to meet his gaze for too long. The lingering confession, the stolen moment almost-kiss, hung heavy between us.
As I sank deeper into the worn armchair, a group of giggling Gryffindor girls approached, their chatter drawing my attention.
"Y/N!" Lavender Brown announced, her voice bright with excitement. "Did you hear? There's supposed to be a total lunar eclipse tonight!"
My heart skipped a beat. A lunar eclipse? A shiver of excitement ran down my spine. For the first time in years, I hadn't even been aware of such an event. But more importantly, they were inviting me.
Parvati Patil chimed in, her dark eyes sparkling. "We're all planning to gather near the lake to watch. It's supposed to be incredible! Are you coming?"
"I…" I stammered, unsure how to respond.
"Oh, come on, Y/N," Padma, Parvati's twin, nudged me playfully. "It'll be fun! We can all gossip and make wishes under the moonlight."
A lump formed in my throat. It was a simple question, but it felt monumental. An invitation to not just witness a celestial phenomenon, but to be included, to be a part of something.
For a moment, I simply stared at them, my mind struggling to process the shift. Was this real? Did they genuinely want me to join them?
"I don't know," I mumbled, looking down at my shoes. "Maybe…"
"Don't worry, Y/N," Lavender reassured me, sensing my hesitation. "It's up to you. But if you do decide to come, we'd love to have you."
With a warm smile, they turned to leave, their excited chatter fading as they descended the stairs. I watched them go, a wave of indecisiveness washing over me.
The rest of day went by quickly as I was still thinking about the invitation then mattheo I looked around searching for him
I spotted him by the courtyard, leaning against a stone pillar, his usual air of nonchalance masking a hint of concern. As I approached, he pushed himself off the pillar and met my gaze.
"Hey," he said, his voice laced with a question as his eyes scanned my face.
"Hi, Mattheo," I replied hesitantly.
"Everything alright?" he asked, his brow furrowed. He reached out, brushing a stray strand of hair from my eye with a gentle touch .
Taking a deep breath, I blurted out the first thing that came to mind. "There's a lunar eclipse tonight, did you know?"
He blinked, surprised by the abrupt change of subject. "A lunar eclipse?" he echoed.
"Yeah," I said, trying to sound enthusiastic. "Apparently, it's supposed to be the biggest one in years. Everyone's going down by the Black Lake to watch it."
The corner of his mouth twitched. "Everyone, huh?" he said, a playful glint in his eyes.
"Well," I admitted, feeling my cheeks flush, "not everyone. But some people. Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil invited me, and…"
I trailed off, unsure how to finish the sentence. Did I dare ask him to join me?
"And?" Mattheo prompted, a hint of amusement in his voice.
"And," I mumbled, looking down at my shoes, "I was wondering… would you maybe want to come with me?"
The playful smile vanished, replaced by a look of genuine surprise. "With you?" he echoed.
I looked back up at him, my heart pounding in my chest. "Yeah," I said, my voice barely above a whisper. "If you want to, of course."
He held my gaze for a long moment, the silence stretching between us. Then, a slow smile spread across his face, warm and genuine.
"I'd like that very much, love ," he said, his voice a low rumble.
As the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in fiery hues of orange and pink, I made my way towards the Black Lake. The crisp autumn air buzzed with excited chatter as students from all houses gathered, blankets and snacks in tow, eager to witness the celestial spectacle.
A warm hand brushed against mine, sending a jolt through my system. Turning, I met Mattheo's gaze, a spark of amusement dancing in his eyes. He wore a casual smirk, but the way his hand lingered on mine spoke volumes.
he breathed, taking in the scene before him. "Didn't expect the whole school to be here."
I chuckled. "Apparently, lunar eclipses are kind of a big deal."
We weaved through the crowd, Lavender and Parvati waving to us over Theo , Enzo even Blaise was there too that was really unexpected . We settled in, surrounded by the cheerful chatter and laughter.
As the moon began to cast its silvery glow, a hush fell over the crowd. Everyone turned their eyes skyward, captivated by the gradual darkening of Earth's natural satellite. Mattheo, however, seemed more interested in me than the moon. His hand brushed mine again, sending a delicious shiver down my spine.
Leaning closer, he whispered in my ear, his voice husky and warm. "Beautiful, isn't it?"
I nodded, unable to tear my gaze from his face. "It is," I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper.
He tilted his head slightly, his lips hovering tantalizingly close to mine. Just as I thought he was about to kiss me, his voice dipped even lower.
"come with me. "
The surprise on my face must have been evident. "Where?" I stammered.
he said, a playful glint in his eyes. "Trust me, it'll be worth it."
We walked for what felt like an eternity, the only sounds the crunch of leaves underfoot and the occasional rustle in the bushes. The air grew thicker the deeper we ventured, and a sense of unease gnawed at the edges of my excitement. Just as I was about to voice my concerns, Mattheo came to a stop in front of a section of gnarled oak trees, their branches intertwined in an almost unnatural way.
"Here?" I asked, eyeing the dense foliage with suspicion.
He smirked, his eyes gleaming in the faint moonlight that filtered through the canopy. "Here," he confirmed, stepping forward and pushing aside a thick curtain woven from the very leaves themselves.
To my astonishment, a hidden passage unfolded behind the makeshift doorway. A narrow path, barely wide enough for two people, stretched into the darkness, illuminated faintly by glowing mushrooms that dotted the damp stone walls.
My initial apprehension warred with the budding trust I felt for Mattheo. Taking a deep breath, I gripped his hand tighter. "What is it?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.
"Just trust me," he murmured, his touch surprisingly gentle.
We walked in silence, the air growing colder and the earthy scent more pronounced. The path eventually led to a sturdy wooden door hidden within the rocky wall. Mattheo pushed it open, revealing a sight that took my breath away.
It was a small, circular room, but its crowning glory was a large, arched window that took up most of one wall. Through it, the eclipse was on full display, the shadowed moon hanging in the inky black sky. But unlike the darkness of the forest, here, the view was clear and breathtaking
I breathed, my surprise echoing in the stillness of the night.
Mattheo chuckled, a hint of pride in his voice. "Told you it was worth it."
"This is…" I stammered, searching for the right words. "Amazing."
Mattheo smiled, his hand moving to brush a stray curl from my face. “We found this place a while back," he explained. "It's kind of a secret."
He pulled me towards the window, his arm wrapping around my waist, stood behind me , gazing up at the celestial phenomenon unfolding above us. The darkness, once menacing, now seemed like a vast, inky canvas upon which the eclipse played out.
"It's even more breathtaking from here, isn't it?" Mattheo whispered, his voice warm against my ear. , his words laced with something more than just the wonder of the eclipse.
I could only nod, my throat suddenly dry. The beauty of the celestial spectacle was undeniable, but it paled in comparison to the feelings Mattheo was stirring within me.
A warmth bloomed in my chest, a response that surprised even me. Mattheo's presence, so close and unexpected in this hidden haven, sent a delicious shiver down my spine.
As if sensing my shift, his arm tightened around my waist, pulling me closer. My heart hammered against my ribs, a frantic drumbeat against the backdrop of the crackling fire.
Then, his lips brushed against my ear again. This time, the words were different. Softer, more intimate. "You're even more breathtaking," he murmured, his voice sending shivers down my neck.
My eyes fluttered open, meeting his gaze reflected in the moonlight filtering through the window. The eclipse, forgotten for a moment, seemed to cast an ethereal glow on his features, highlighting the intensity in his eyes.
Before I could form a coherent thought, his lips met mine. The kiss was tentative at first, a soft exploration that sent a wave of warmth through me. Instinctively, I reached up, my fingers finding purchase on his arm.
A contented sigh escaped his lips as he deepened the kiss, his hand finding mine and intertwining our fingers. The touch sent a jolt through me, a current of electricity that ignited a fire within.
When he finally pulled away, a breathless gasp escaped my lips. My cheeks burned, my heart hammered a wild rhythm against my ribs. A shy smile tugged at the corner of my lips.
His gaze never left mine.He leaned down again, his lips trailing a path of fire down my neck. He paused at a sensitive spot just below my ear, sending a jolt of pleasure through me.
Unable to hold back a moan, I arched my neck into his touch, a silent plea for more. His hand reached down, skimming the curve of my hip before settling lightly on my lower back as I felt the wall behind us
He was going to stop I know that he was going to hold back again "Wait," I whispered, my voice barely above a breath. Looking into his eyes, I saw a storm of emotions – frustration, amusement. It was a look that made my heart skip a beat, a look that made me feel a dangerous mix of power and surrender.
"I want to " I stammered, unsure how to articulate the jumbled mess of emotions swirling within me.
"You sure?" he asked, his voice husky with suppressed desire.
Taking a deep breath, I blurted out, "I want this, Mattheo. I mean…I've never done this before, but I trust you. And I want it."
"Let's take things slow, alright?" He whispered softly in my ear and i nodded, his lips finding their way back to my neck, tracing over the mark he had just left behind.
"Mattheo," I moaned when he nipped at the same spot again, his teeth sharp and his lips unyielding.
"God my name sounds like heaven from your lips" he murmured, his voice a low rumble against your ear.
"Have you ever touched yourself, love?" His question caught me off guard, my breath catching in my throat as I shook my head. I had wanted to try but never mustered the courage.
"It's okay, my love," he reassured, his hands sliding under my top, caressing my skin with a tender touch that sent shivers down my spine.Then he gently pushed me up, settling me on the nearest table. "I'll take care of you."
Pressing more kisses to my neck, his hands moved to my hips, his fingers digging into my skin as he lifted my skirt slightly. "Is this alright?" he asked, his breath hot against my neck.I smiled at him and nodded again
“I’m going to touch you now, Just tell me when you want to stop, and I promise I’ll end it,” said with determination, his fingers brushing my cheek i nodded leaned forward to kiss him instead of just responding.
He did as he told , his fingers sliding into my pants proceeded slowly, finding my most sensitive spot, eliciting pleasurable sensations that made me arch my back and cling to him.
slowly rubbing circles around it. He used light pressure, but it felt amazing. His gaze intently watched my response, figuring out what i like.
He picked up the pace and pressure, sending pleasurable shocks through my body. my back arched as the ache between my legs increased. 
“God you’re so wet for me." he whispered, his voice filled with awe and desire. "Does it feel good?"
“ Yes , it feels so good.” I moaned softly, my voice barely audible as waves of pleasure washed over me.
"Can I?" he asked, seeking my consent.
"Yes, please," I begged, my desperation evident in my voice.
"It might feel strange at first, but I promise it will get better quickly," he reassured, and I nodded in agreement. With my consent, his finger slid between my folds, eliciting a soft moan from my lips. My hands found their way to his shoulders as I rested my head against them.
"Breathe, my love," he whispered, his voice a soothing melody in the midst of pleasure. I obeyed, inhaling deeply as a symphony of moans escaped my mouth, each one a testament to the pleasure coursing through my body.
"Mattheo," I moaned, his name a mantra on my lips.
"Yes, love. Talk to me," he encouraged, his movements slowing to allow me to catch my breath.
"There's something..." I tried to say, but pleasure engulfed me, leaving me speechless.
His lips found mine, his kisses distracting me from my thoughts as I succumbed to the overwhelming pleasure he offered.
"Just let go for me," he whispered against my lips, his breath igniting a fire within me that sent me spiraling into bliss.
His thumb applied pressure to my clit, sending electrifying waves of pleasure through my body. I gripped his shoulder tightly as he carefully added another finger, causing me to close my eyes in ecstasy.
"Don't close your eyes, love. Look at me," he urged, his voice filled with desire and a hint of command. I obeyed, locking eyes with him as his fingers found that specific spot inside me, unleashing a sensation I had never experienced before. It was so intense that I couldn't contain my scream of pleasure, feeling like I was soaring among the clouds.
He continued to target that spot, his gaze fixed on me as if he could read my every reaction. With a satisfied smile, he spoke soft words in my ear , reveling in my response.
His touch remained gentle yet firm, guiding me through the waves of pleasure until I reached the pinnacle, my body trembling in his embrace as I experienced a euphoric release unlike anything before.
"It's alright, I'm here," he murmured, his words a soothing balm as I surrendered to the pleasure that consumed me.
As I floated back to reality, I found myself in his arms, his gaze filled with tenderness and adoration. He leaned in, capturing my lips in a deep, passionate kiss that spoke volumes of unspoken emotions.
"Maybe you mean more to me than I care to admit too , riddle," I repeated his earlier words. But what I truly wanted to express was that, ,I think I'm in love with you, Mattheo Riddle.’
From that night onward, everything shifted, and my life transformed into a fairy tale. The intensity of my feelings for him grew so profound that a day without seeing Mattheo felt like an eternity, leaving me yearning for his presence. He cherished me as if I were the most precious gem in his life, and to say that I loved him would be an understatement; my emotions ran deeper than mere words could express.
Despite our unspoken declarations of love, we refrained from exploring further sexual intimacy after that intense encounter. However, the desire and longing between us only grew stronger, leaving me yearning for more moments of intimacy with him. Each kiss, touch, and gaze across the room spoke volumes of the love we shared, even if the three words were never verbalized.
The end-of-year party hosted by Slytherin was a legendary affair, whispered about in hushed tones by those who had attended in previous years. Despite hearing countless tales about the extravagant festivities, I had never been tempted to go, for me, it had always been an off-limits fantasy , one I didn't dare to try and make true.
As the "jinx girl", stepping foot into such a renowned event felt like a risky move. The thought of facing judgment, scrutiny, and potentially being ostracized by my peers held me back from even considering attending.
However, in those few months everything changed. I found myself shedding my inhibitions and fears, stepping out of my comfort zone and embracing new experiences. The bonds I formed with other Slytherins grew stronger, and I even made friends outside of Mattheo's circle, feeling more at ease and confident in social settings.
The Gryffindor-Slytherin rivalry was as legendary as the end-of-year party itself. This year, however, a shared misfortune had united the two houses in a grudging camaraderie. Professor Flitwick, bless his innocent heart, had stumbled upon Blaise Zabini and a very surprised Gryffindor tangled together in a rather compromising position in a dusty basement corridor. Let's just say, both houses lost a significant number of points, paving the way for Ravenclaw to snatch the coveted House Cup in a landslide victory.
So, as the day of the party approached, a thrill of anticipation danced in my stomach.
"Mattheo," I said, catching his attention as I approached him and his friends. He gently guided me to sit next to him, holding my hands with a tender touch
“ yes love ? “
"Are we… are we going to the party tonight?" I asked, trying to gauge his reaction.
He looked up, surprise flickering across his face. "The party?" he echoed, raising an eyebrow. "You… you want to go?"
I felt a flicker of self-consciousness, but I held his gaze. "Yeah," I admitted.
“Honestly, Y/N," he said, "it's a bit… childish."
"Childish?" I repeated, surprised. "But everyone says it's a lot of fun!"
Enzo, chimed in with a shrug. "He has a point. It's mostly just first years causing mayhem."
There it was , that hesitation. Mattheo rarely said no to anything I asked.
He studied me for a moment, a flicker of something unreadable crossing his features. He glanced at Enzo, exchanging a silent communication that left me puzzled.I don’t really understand I know they used to go every year .
He looked at me for a long moment, his dark eyes searching mine. Then, a slow smile spread across his face.
"Alright then love ," he said, a hint of amusement in his voice. "If you want to, then we'll go."
The Slytherin common room was a whirlwind of emerald and silver. Green streamers snaked across the ceiling, enchanted banners proclaimed Slytherin victory in various forgotten contests, and a cacophony of music and laughter filled the air. My heart pounded with excitement, a delightful mix of anticipation and nerves.
The atmosphere was vibrant, filled with laughter and music. Everyone seemed genuinely happy to have me there, chatting and mingling as if I had been a regular attendee for years.
However, what struck me as odd was how Mattheo and Enzo never left my side. It was as if they were guarding me, anticipating something that I wasn't aware of. Despite their usual easygoing demeanor, there was a sense of alertness in their actions that left me curious and slightly uneasy.
As the night progressed, I couldn't shake off the feeling of being watched, not in a malicious way, but more like a protective gaze. Mattheo and Enzo's constant presence by my side felt both comforting and unsettling at the same time.
I tried to brush off my unease and enjoy the party, engaging in conversations and joining in on the festivities. However, the nagging feeling that something was amiss lingered in the back of my mind.
It wasn't until later in the evening, when Mattheo and Enzo exchanged a meaningful glance, that I realized there was more to their protective behavior than met the eye.
Chaos erupted in the common room as Charlie Spinnet, stormed towards Mattheo. "Get her out of here now ," he growled, jabbing a finger in my direction. "Or I'll do it myself."
Before Mattheo could respond, the room fell silent. A Slytherin seventh-year, Adrian Pucey, stood on a nearby table, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Hold on there, Spinnet ," he boomed, his voice cutting through the tension. "This year, we're doing something a little different… a play!"
A cheer erupted from the Slytherins, many of them eager for a change from the usual prank wars. Mattheo , however, remained unconvinced. He narrowed his eyes at Adrian, suspicion etched on his face.
As the play began, I couldn't help but notice the similarities between my name and the name of the girl portrayed in the story. It didn't take long for me to realize that the play was about a jinxing girl, and it described in vivid detail everything I had confided in Mattheo about my family and my troubled past at the lake that night.
Panic clawed at my throat. I stole a glance at Mattheo, but his face was a mask. He reached out a hand towards me, but I flinched back instinctively .
The room fell silent, every eye glued to me and the unfolding drama.
Onstage, the actress portraying me continued, her voice dripping with drama. "…driven by ambition, she stole her brother's place, but a terrible curse followed. Wherever she goes, misfortune befalls those around her. She's the jinx girl, a harbinger of bad luck!"
A collective gasp rippled through the room. Whispers erupted like flames, spreading fear and suspicion. I felt them scorching my skin, their judgment a suffocating weight on my chest.
Suddenly, a new scene unfolded on stage. A group of actors, portraying Hogwarts students, stood center stage. "Here's the dare," boomed one, a mock sense of bravery in his voice. "The boy who approaches the jinx girl and brings her to the party… wins!"
Suddenly, a commotion arose from the back of the room. Enzo and Theodore Nott , their faces grim, pushed their way through the crowd towards the makeshift stage. "Stop this!" Enzo said, his voice laced with fury. "This is out of line, Pucey!"
The actors scrambled off the stage, bewildered and slightly scared. The common room dissolved into chaos. Accusatory whispers turned into heated arguments. Pity and fear flickered in averted gazes. I even overheard someone mutter, "Did she really kill her brother?"
The roar of the party faded behind me as I sprinted down the Slytherin common room's hidden corridor, tears stinging my eyes despite my desperate efforts to hold them back. Mattheo's voice calling after me, pleading, only fueled my desperate need to escape.
"Y/N, please!" he shouted, but I ignored him, my feet pounding a relentless rhythm against the cold stone floor.
"Y/N!" he called again, his voice closer this time. Panic surged through me, lending me fresh bursts of energy.
Just as I reached the portrait leading out to the dungeons, a strong hand clamped onto my arm. I spun around, ready to lash out, but it was him – Mattheo, his face etched with a desperate worry I'd never seen before.
He tried to reach for my hand, but I recoiled violently. "Don't you dare touch me!" I screamed, my voice raw with hurt and betrayal.
He flinched, his hand hovering awkwardly in mid-air. "Y/N, love, just hear me out," he pleaded.
"Love?" I spat the word back at him, incredulous. "Don't call me that." The weight of everything that had just happened crashed down on me. The staged play, the public humiliation, the sickening realization that it had all been a dare.
"It's not what it seems like," he stammered, trying to explain. "I—"
"You what?" I interrupted, my voice rising. "It was all a lie, wasn't it? "
"No, no, I swear," he said urgently. "Everything that happened between us was real. My feelings for you…" His voice trailed off, his eyes pleading for me to understand.
But the damage was done. The carefully constructed trust – it had all crumbled to dust in the face of this cruel betrayal.
"Don't," I choked out, tears finally spilling down my cheeks. "Don't lie to me anymore."
A sob escaped my lips, and despite the anger burning within me, a part of me ached for the connection I thought we shared.
"Just give me a chance to explain," he pleaded, but I shook my head, unable to bear the sight of him anymore.
The truth, however distorted, was clear. "Wouldn't you deny it was a dare?" I challenged him, a flicker of defiance sparking in my tear-filled eyes.
Silence stretched between us, thick and suffocating. For the first time, I saw a flicker of genuine pain cross Mattheo's usually guarded features.
"No," he finally admitted, and I felt a wave of numbness wash over me.
As I turned to walk away, he continued, "It was at first, but I swear that from that night at the Broomsticks, everything was real. I even forgot about that stupid dare. Everything that happened between us was real, you know that."
I scoffed, wiping angrily at my tears. "I don't know anything anymore," I said.
"Foolish me. That's why you didn't want Charlie to talk to me that day, wasn't it? Because he was going to expose you?"
""No, Y/N, I just didn't want you to get hurt __“
"You what?" I cut him off again, my voice trembling with fury. "How generous of you," I said sarcastically. "But look, you win now, Riddle. Won't you go celebrate? It was their dare,"
"I don't care about anyone else but you," he said fiercely.
I stared at him, incredulous. "Then why does it feel like you care about everything else more than me right now?"
He took a hesitant step forward, but I didn't back away this time. I met his gaze head-on, my heart a tangled mess of emotions.
"I can't lose you," he whispered, his voice filled with desperation.
"You already have," I said, the words like shards of glass in my mouth. I wanted to hurt him, to make him feel even a fraction of the pain I was experiencing.
"I ___ i love you," he confessed, the words hanging heavy in the air.
Love. The very word felt like a mockery.
I looked him straight in the eye, my voice surprisingly calm despite the storm raging within me. "And I hate you, Mattheo Riddle," I said, each word laced with the bitter taste of betrayal.
With that final declaration, I turned away, leaving him standing alone in the darkened corridor, the portrait swinging shut behind me.
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅
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multific · 3 months
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In This Together
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Mattheo Riddle x Reader
Summary: Your period is late.
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You tried your best not to panic. You tried your best to keep it together.
You tried... but on the inside, you were panicking over it.
And who wouldn't be?
Your period was late! And you wanted to crawl into a hole and cry all day.
Overdramatic? Possibly, yes.
But you were scared, so in your mind, it all made sense.
You even got to a point on your third day that you avoided Mattheo at all costs.
Which he of course noticed.
He tried to catch you in the halls but you were quicker.
He even debated barging into the girl's restroom at one point. 
On the fifth day, he finally caught you and cornered you in the library.
"Why are you avoiding me?" he genuinely looked hurt.
"It's just..." you looked up at him, you knew no one was around you, so you decided to tell him. "I'm late."
"What do you mean? You don't have any classes."
"No..." you wanted to cry and yell but you just let out a sigh. "My period is late." you whispered and he froze in one place.
"But we always used... protection."
"Yes."
"How would it be possible? Did you check with the nurse?"
"I didn't check. My period always came when it should."
"We should go to the nurse."
"I'm scared." you said and you sounded so honest and desperate Mattheo hugged you.
"I'm here, we will figure it out okay? It could be that you are just a bit later than usual. Everything will be fine." he kissed your hair as you hugged him closer.
The next morning, you woke up to a certain pain.
A pain you knew very well.
And indeed, your panic was for nothing. You were simply later than usual.
You felt so relieved. 
Someone knocked on your door before barging in.
"Good morning, Beautiful, so, I made a plan. Simple but I think we could do it. So, you stay in school, I drop out. I go and work in a store or at the Ministry, anywhere. I will put all my paychecks to one side and it would be a start. Then, you can give birth and we would have a home, you can decide if you want to go to finish school after or work, but I also have a small inheritance from my father so we can figure it out."
You blinked at your boyfriend. 
"You didn't sleep did you?"
"Not a blink! Theo threw pillows at me because I kept mumbling, but I thought my plan was good. What do you say?"
"I really do appreciate you coming up with this, Matty but-"
"We are keeping the baby. I don't think that is up for debate... at least not to me."
"We don't have to keep the baby."
"But I want to! I-I realize we are young but we can do it."
"Matty, I'm not pregnant. You were right, my period was just later than usual."
"Oh." his shoulders slacked. "And I spent all night thinking..."
"I appreciate it, and it is very nice to know you wouldn't just leave."
"Of course, I wouldn't."
"Yes, I get it. You look disappointed."
"I'm not going to lie, I spent probably the last four hours just imagining the cutest kid with your eyes and smile and... I kinda am disappointed. It's okay though, I know your father would have killed me so at least now we can wait until after marriage."
"Yes, what? You want to get married?"
"Don't get me started on that. It was another sleepless night after you told me about your father and his... older views." you smiled and walked over to him. 
"I love you." you wanted to say so many things, but you knew this would be simple and enough.
"I love you too." you hugged him and kissed him. "Then, I will get you some chocolate and candy."
"Aww, thank you. Who could have thought you would be such a great boyfriend."
"Well, duh. I'm the best Slytherin."
"That you are."
"And the best boyfriend."
"Exactly." you pulled him in for another kiss.
You really feared that he would just run and be like the guy your friends thought he would be, but it was good to know that he had his own plans, and his future certainly involved you.
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Taglist: @castellandiangelo @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl @manduse  @jacalineiscomingforyou @mandoloriancookie @brascaris @il0vebeingdelulu @deliciousfestsalad
~Masterlist~
ˇAO3ˇ
/YOU DO NOT HAVE PERMISSION TO TRANSLATE OR REUPLOAD ANY OF MY WORKS TO THIS OR OTHER PLATFORMS/
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sadembryhours · 9 months
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softened touch ♡ mattheo riddle
synopsis ; [name] takes a nap in the slytherin common room and mattheo keeps them company gender neutral reader, no content warnings
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if you have a blank blog [no bio, no user, no header or profile pic, nothing reblogged, etc] do not interact with my content. you will be blocked.
naps in the slytherin common room were routine for you. having a free period in the middle of the afternoon, right after lunch? you felt like you were blessed by some kind of angel.
pansy snickers to herself as you let out a little snore, shoving astoria lightly up the stairs. “leave ‘em be,” she says, “nothing can wake [name] now.”
blaise pauses as you turn over, eyes drifting up from his book and watching until you settle again. he’d already placed your notes where they needed to be ; no longer scattered on the table and floor. you’d been pushing yourself, he frowns, studying instead of taking care of yourself.
it’s mattheo who dares to linger the longest. he waves draco and theo away, urging them to leave without him. he was going to wake you — truly, he was — but you looked so peaceful when you weren’t scowling and glaring.
a velvet, evergreen blanket is folded over your body as you twist once more. another snort leaves your lips — mattheo grins at the sound. he crouches in front of your sleeping form before he can talk himself out of it.
delicately, mattheo brushes his pointer finger just under your eye, tracing the curve of your cheeks until he ends at the corner of your lips. your fingers tighten around the blanket as you whine, stretching lightly.
the panic doesn’t catch up to him until your eyes are gazing into his own. mattheo goes to speak but is silenced by your touch. you grab his hand — the one he’d been using to trace shapes into your cheek with — and cup your cheek with his palm.
mattheo’s breath catches in his chest as you smile.
“didn’t mean to wake you,” his whisper bounces around the room. your eyes flutter closed once more before you fight to keep them open. mattheo smiles, “go back to sleep.”
you hum, turning to place a barely-there kiss to the palm of his hand. settling again, your grip on mattheo’s hand tightens. sleepy eyes open to glare his way as he tries to leave.
mattheo grins again, wider this time as he laughs a little. “okay, i won’t leave. let me get more comfortable though, hm?”
his back is leaning against the couch you rest on, your knees pressing into the top of his shoulders. his left hand is slung behind him, intertwined with your own as you snore once again. mattheo is going over his potions essay as the common room slowly bursts to life.
you’re not woken up again until dinner. no one would come near you with a riddle glaring the way he was ; daring them to try and wake you.
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cat-loves-music · 4 months
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My Mattheo Riddle Headcannons
Okay so I've had these circling my brain for a while. Hope you enjoy, but plz don't come for me if you don't think these are correct. These are just what I think.
Okay for starters, he's definitely Sleep Token coded. You can fight me on this. This is the hill I die on.
Like specifically Blood Sport and Ascensionism. You cannot tell me otherwise.
No matter how the story starts, I feel like he'll maybe pine from afar just to keep you safe. At least during the beginning of your relationship.
I feel like during 5th year, he'll definitely be obsessed at that point and will do anything to keep you safe (specifically from Umbitch)
So I think he'll definitely like join her squad and just be a lot more lenient with you.
He also did it probably because all his friends did — Theo and Enzo probably did it for shits and giggles.
I also feel like he'd be fluent in pet names once your relationship gets going. Specifically Italian and Spanish. Maybe even a little French.
^^I couldn't help to put that one in there cuz I'm a sucker for Italian and Spanish pet names.
He's definitely a tease when he finally doesn't care about staying away anymore.
Like he'll be so frustrating but charming at the same time and you'd hate it.
But don't mind or you get used to it eventually.
I believe it's well known he gets into fights and he most definitely will. Mainly if he hears someone talk bad about you or are just being creeps.
Speaking of that too, HE'S JEALOUSSSS!!! Like so much so if he sees you being all flirty with someone he will immediately intimidate them and tell them to back off.
Circling back to the goon squad thing, he would so use his power to intimidate people too. Why have power if you're not gonna use it?
He would definitely have his friends begging him to actually do something about his feelings for you.
"You're gonna have to talk to her eventually."
And he'll always make up some sort of excuse.
"I can't, I'm too busy for relationships."
Cuz he hates the way he wants to be selfish but can't because he doesn't wanna put you in danger.
Otherwise...he would definitely be selfish.
Sorry if this is bad. I was kinda all over the place. Hope you enjoyed and if you want more Headcannons for Mattheo or anyone else I write for plz let me know!
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riddlexmattheo · 2 years
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Imagine Mattheo when you try to take a sip of his milk when he is not paying attention but find out before you can
Mattheo: YN what do you think your doing
YN: taking a sip babe
Mattheo: I love but that's not happening
YN: why not
Mattheo: because friends don't share diary that's why not
YN: but I am your GIRLFRIEND not your friend
Mattheo: still not happening, baby
YN: Ok then no milk no kiss
Mattheo: Shit
Draco: She has you wrapped around her little fingers riddle
Mattheo: I Know
Draco: Where are you going
Mattheo: The Chamber of Secrets where do you think I'm going Malfoy
Draco: YN
Mattheo: Duhhh
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mrsprongs · 7 months
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- D0 IT AGAIN  -
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Pairing: mattheo riddle x reader
Summary: mattheo supposedly hates you, until he sees you at a party with another guy.
Warnings: pure smut, swearing, tad bit of violence, heavily unedited writing.
The noise was deafening in the Slytherin common room. Music was blaring and people were screaming over the top of one another as they threw back glass after glass of Bin juice, not Mattheo’s preferred beverage by any means, yet he too was sipping away at it. He was sitting on a couch off to the side, exuding the air of someone not overly bothered by the spectacle before him. He was, however, bothered by one particular part of the scene. Y/N Y/L/N had brought Cormac McLaggen and was letting his dirty hands feel her up as they danced in the crowd of people. He hated Y/N, and he hated Cormac. The two of them together was a complete piece of work. 
He was another couple of drinks in when Y/N collapsed into the coach, right beside him, holding a bottle of White Rat Whiskey. He raised an eyebrow at the sloshed girl, who would never in a million years have sat next to him if she wasn’t inebriated.
“Fuck off, Y/L/N.” He snapped, sounding disgusted yet betraying himself by allowing his eyes to linger on her exposed chest for a moment too long. 
“Why are you mad?” She giggled, oblivious to his wandering gaze.
“I’m not mad, I just disapprove of your taste in men.”
“What’s wrong with Cormac?” She asked innocently, shooting Mattheo the doe eyes he’s only ever seen her use on the cute older boys at parties.
“The colour of his robes.” He retorted, rolling his eyes and struggling to look away. She was awfully close, her sweet perfume filling up his senses. “Why don't you go back to your boyfriend?” 
“It’s much more fun getting you all pent up like this.” She smirked, drunkenly leaning towards him. Mattheo didn’t move a muscle, staring at her as she tilted her head back, lips encircling the tip of the bottle, soft hair falling over her shoulders. His jaw clenched as she swallowed, crude images springing to life in his mind. He quickly averted his eyes, resuming his nonchalant attitude, while being painfully aware of her presence next to him. She looked back over at him, staring off into the distance, clearly pissed off. She felt a lump in her throat form as she realised she was a nuisance, an annoyance. Her cheeks slightly flushed with embarrassment she stood up uneasily, swaying in her heels. “Fine, I will go back.” She mumbled, taking a step forward and almost falling right into Mattheo’s lap. Instinctively, his hands shot to her waist to help steady her as her left hand grabbed onto his shoulder for support. She looked down at him and their eyes locked for a brief moment before a hand wrapped around her hips and she was pulled into someone’s chest.  
“It’s alright mate, I’ve got her.” Cormac said smugly as he dragged Y/N away. Mattheo’s hands felt like they were on fire as he dragged them through his dark locks. 
“I think you’ve had enough.” Theodore remarked as he held the bottle of firewhiskey away from Mattheo. The party was still raging even though the sun was not far away from rising. Mattheo shook his head lazily, yanking the bottle out of Theodore’s grasp and taking a swig, his eyes locked on Y/N and Cormac across the room. She was leaning her entire weight on him, clearly out of it. Her hands were fisted into his shirt and Mattheo watched as his hands shamelessly roamed her body. She probably couldn’t even feel him doing it.
“Someone needs to take her back to her dorm.” Mattheo gritted through his teeth. 
“I’m sure Cormac will eventually.” Theodore said breezily, his attention now on the joint he was carefully rolling. “Wouldn’t you want her to die from alcohol poisoning anyway. How much have you seriously had to drink?” Theodore looked slightly concerned at his friend’s change in attitude, yet Mattheo had never felt more clear-minded, emotions that had been suppressed bubbling to the surface. He knew full well, even this intoxicated, that he could take Cormac in a fight. Easily. But he knew how upset Y/N would be. Even if he might not hate her as much as he said he did, she despised him. Cormac dipped his head and mumbled something into Y/N’s ear. She shook her head, frowning slightly. He gripped Y/N’s shoulders and pulled her towards the exit, despite her attempts to break free from his grasp. Nobody else seemed to notice. 
“Fuck it” Mattheo spat, marching towards Cormac and clocking him right in the nose. He screamed in pain and doubled over. 
“What the-” Y/N started to yell before Mattheo placed his hands on her biceps and steered her towards her shocked looking friend. 
“She needs to go to bed.” Mattheo transferred Y/N over as an audience began to form around the bloodied Cormac. “Now.” He practically spat. He turned back around to finish off the Gryffindor boy, only to see him quite literally running out of the common room. 
Mattheo was lying on his bed, twirling his wand in his fingers. Classes had finished and most people had dispersed, wasting time before dinner, yet Mattheo hadn’t felt like socialising much, deciding to retire early. A knock sounded on his door, peaking his interest. His roommates had never knocked once in their lives, but who else would visit? Mattheo trodden over to the door, swinging it open to reveal the very girl that was plaguing his mind. 
“Y/N?” He said, the use of her first name catching her off guard. “What do you want?” He sighed, once again putting on an act while his heart started to race at just how close he was standing to her. 
“I wanted to say thank you. You know, for last night.” Y/N was wringing her hands together, looking everywhere but at Mattheo. He stepped back, letting her into the room and closing the door behind her. 
“I figured you’d be pissed. Messing up pretty boy’s face and all.” Y/N shrugged and an awkward silence settled over the room. 
“That was it really.” She finally spoke, “I just wanted to say thanks.” She began to pivot when he closed the distance between them. Her eyes widened as his face stopped mere inches from hers. She had no choice but to look at him. Before she could even process anything, he leant down and pressed his lips to hers tenderly Her eyes fluttered shut as her lips began to slowly move against his. Mattheo’s heart was pounding against his chest as he pulled back, snapping back to reality. A small whimper escaped Y/N’s throat as he broke contact, the small, desperate noise causing something in his core to burn. 
“Mattheo.” She almost whispered, hating that he was going to make her ask for it.
“Mmm” He hummed, their noses almost brushing from their close proximity. 
“Do it again.” She breathed as he hesitantly placed his hand on the back of her neck. She tipped her head up as he closed the gap between them again, slightly more forcefully this time. She dug her hands roughly into his dark curls, spurring him on as the kiss became feverish. Mattheo’s hands roamed all over her body, squeezing and rubbing. Y/N moaned into his mouth as he tugged at her bottom lip with his teeth. He used this as an opportunity to slide his tongue into her mouth, interlocking their lips again, hot and intense. Mattheo pulled back slightly to catch his breath, smiling as Y/N tried to move with him. 
“Eager are we?” He laughed slightly, looking down at her with ravenous eyes. 
“I fucking hate you.” She rolled her eyes as his teasing comment.
“No you don’t. Take that back.” Y/N was almost shocked by his shift in demeanour, confused as to why he cared that she hated him. He hated her back right? His hand closed around her throat, squeezing just enough to make her slightly light-headed. “Take it back.” He repeated, looking almost nervous for her response. 
“I don’t hate you.” Y/N whispered. His grip on her neck loosened as he aggressively latched back on to her lips, both of them moaning shamelessly. He took a few steps back, guiding her with him as he sat down on the edge of his bed. Mattheo’s hands firmly on her waist, he pulled her down to straddle his lap. Y/N could feel how hard he was underneath her. Subconsciously she began to drag herself over him as his mouth moved to suck on the sensitive skin on her neck. She tugged sharply at his hair, earning a small whimper from Mattheo. His clothed dick was straining against his pants from the friction as Y/N practically dry humped him. 
“Fucking hell Y/N” Mattheo groaned into her collarbone, “If you don’t stop that I’m going to cum right now.” He continued to litter marks over her skin as he slipped his fingers into her panties, replacing his hard dick with his hand as he dragged his fingers over her dripping folds. Y/N bit her lip as he spread her open, slowly sliding one finger in as the pad of his thumb brushed deliciously slowly over her clit. She moaned his name as he slid two more fingers in her, slowly rolling them back and forth inside her. Her hips started to move again as she ground her clit down into the palm of his hand, the moans spilling from her mouth as her climax approached was almost sending Mattheo over the edge with her. 
“Fuck, Theo.” She mumbled as her orgasm washed over her, his fingers continuing their assault. He didn’t mention it, but the nickname caused his stomach to flip and his cheeks to warm. Skillfully he moved her off his lap and onto her back, head against the pillows as he crawled over her. She watched as he undid each and every button on her school blouse, lifting her up a little to slide it off her completely before discarding it on the floor. He pulled his own shirt off swiftly, exposing the most gorgeously crafted abs Y/N had ever laid eyes on. His biceps bulged as he propped himself up above her and began to kiss her gently again. Y/N couldn’t remember why she hated him. How could she hate him? He was so…so…so perfect. Her hands came to cup his face, pressing his lips down harder as she hitched her legs up around him. Her skirt was pushed up around her waist and, without breaking the kiss, Mattheo carefully pulled it down her legs, followed by her panties. His body was so warm and comforting that it took her a moment to realise she was completely naked and by that point she didn’t have it in her to care. She was too focused and satiating her hunger for him. His eyes raked up and down her, chest rising and falling impossibly fast as he felt a physical ache to meld his body to her. Y/N dragged her fingers down his chiselled midriff, stopping at his belt buckle and quickly undoing it. In a flash he had freed himself of his pants and was lining himself up, pumping his rock hard cock a couple of times first. He paused, eyes flicking up to Y/N’s. 
“Tell me you want me.”
“Huh?” She asked, brain slightly foggy and eyes glazed.
“Beg for me.” His lips twitched up into his signature smirk, the smirk made Y/N’s chest tighten and she inhaled sharply as he stared into his eyes (those eyes!).
“Please, Theo, I want you so bad.” The pure thrill those words sent down Mattheo’s spine was unmatchable. 
“I know you do, baby.” He uttered before pushing himself into her, not giving her time to analyse the pet name. He groaned loudly into her ear as he bottomed out completely while she practically screamed out his name, closing her eyes from the mix of pain and pleasure as he stretched her out. Her hands clung onto his shoulders as he slowly dragged himself out of her before plunging back in. Mattheo dropped his head into the crook of her neck as he repeatedly thrusted into her. She was ridiculously tight, squeezing around his cock. As his pace quickened, Y/N’s back arched up towards him, head pushed back into the pillows, a string of praises spilling from her lips, causing an audible whimper to escape Mattheo. He continued to buck into her harshly, and Y/N’s fingers started to dig into his skin, scratching and scraping her nails down his toned back as the pleasure became too much.
“He could never make you feel like this, make you feel this good.” Mattheo’s jealous streak showing as Y/N squirmed from the building pressure in her core. 
“Only you, Theo, only you.” She whined loudly.
“Fuck” He whimpered again at her praise, returning his thumb to her clit and drawing sloppy circles. Y/N’s breath caught in her throat from the overwhelming sensations, moaning out his name again and again. 
“Don’t stop, Theo, fuck-” She cried out as she fisted her hands into his curls one more and tugged relentlessly. She could feel how incredibly tight his muscles were above her as his movements became more ragged. 
“I’m gonna cum,” He moaned, “Fuck, Y/N, I’m so close.” She couldn’t even bring herself to respond as she felt an explosion in her core, her body spasming slightly as wave after wave of pleasure hit her like nothing she had ever experienced before. She clenched hard around Mattheo’s dick and his whole body stilled as his dick twitched inside her, ropes of thick, hot cum spurting out of him. They both stayed still for a moment, dazed and drunk on pleasure. The only sound was their heavy breathing as Mattheo cum was stuffed inside Y/N. He moved his head slightly to press a few kisses to the spot just below her ear as his hands softly travelled up and down her sides. He pulled out of her, their mixed cum dripping out from between her legs. He rolled onto his back beside her as they stared at the top of the four-poster bed. Y/N’s mind raced as she tried to read Mattheo, figure out what he was thinking. Should she leave? Did he still hate her? Was this a one-time thing? Suddenly she felt his arm reach around her and pull her into him, interrupting her thoughts. He looked down at her as her brief confusion melted away and she rested her head on his chest, his fingers lazily tracing the length of her spine.
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justsoravenclaw · 11 months
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Rainy Nights M.R
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Prompts:
Laughing and clutching onto each other while they goof around as the sky pours down on them. (It’s the happiest they’ve been in a while.) 
“If I slip and fall—” “You won’t! I’ll make sure you won’t. I’ve got you, remember? I’ll catch you before you fall — always.”   
Pulling them into a kiss mid-dance, rain soaking through their clothes, laughter against each other’s lips; they separate, stare into each other’s eyes before going in for another one.
Warnings: Fluff
Summary: Dancing in The Rain was something you always wanted to do.
Mattheo Riddle x Fem! reader
This is my first time writing something like this and I am not a native English speaker so I apologise if there are any mistakes.
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The ringing in his ear does not fade away with the music as Mattheo makes his way outside. Outside of the Slytherin Commenroom, he can finally take a breath. Usually, he enjoys this type of evening, but tonight his mind wouldn't shut up. Deciding he needs fresh air his feet carry him into the courtyard. The late Sommer air still holds some of its warmth now mixed with the cold fresh smell of rain.
Pulling out a Cigerate Mattheo looks down at the forming puddles on the ground. The smell of smoke joins the fresh rainy air. “Those are bad for you, you know.” a voice startles him out of his stupor. His head whips around, cigarette hanging loosely in his mouth. You come to a halt beside him.
“Yeah, I do.” Cigarette now in hand he says. “But it's calming.” You look at him only to find him already looking back. Both of you hold the contact for a few seconds. Your eyes lower to the ground and then forward towards the courtyard. “Something on your Mind Theo?” He looks back at you. 
Silence fills the air as he contemplates answering. “Everything.” He finally gets out. Turning your body towards his. “That is a lot.” A sigh left his mouth. “ It is.”
Taking a step forward, down the few stairs left, your body is no longer protected from the rain. Feeling the Rain fall onto your Skin, you turn your head upwards, feeling at home. “What are you doing? Your gonna get sick.” When you face him he could see the small smile on your face. You had an idea. 
“Do you trust me?” You ask jokingly. Mattheo answers almost instantly. “Always.” Not letting yourself dwell on what that simple word makes you feel, you grab his lit cigarette from his hands and threw it on the ground. Confused Mattheo looks at you and lets you grab his hand.
Walking backward you pull him into the pouring rain. Laughing slightly Mattheo asks again  “What are you doing?” Finally stopping you say. “You`ll see.” Your arms find their way behind his head and you start to sway your hips slowly. “Come one. Dance with me.” Looking down into your eyes Mattheo winds his arms around your waist and starts moving. 
Both your eyes meet again. A big wicked smile starts to form on Mattheos face. Suddenly he starts to twirl you around faster and you end up dancing around the Courtyard, laughing and clutching onto each other. Your laughter is a sound of pure happiness. 
Dancing on the wet ground you almost fall but Mattheo catches you last minute. Half hanging in the air and half in Mattheos arms you laugh. He pulls you back up, steadying you.  “If I slip and fall—” You comment on his wild dancing.“You won’t! I’ll make sure you won’t. I’ve got you, remember? I’ll catch you before you fall — always.”
There was that word again. Always. Getting lost in his eyes again you think that you wish this moment could be forever. Forevers only happen around him. Always Him.
Mattheo slowly starts dancing again, a soft smile gracing his handsome face. There is a sudden change in his eyes and he twirls you away from him only to pull you back flush against his chest. Stopping he lowers his head slightly and your eyes meet.  Only a few seconds go by till he lowers his lips to yours. The rain still falling on you both and soaking you through and through. You both let out a laugh against each other's lips. Mattheo pulls back a little to look you in the eyes and lets out another laughter of pure happiness. “This is better than Cigarettes.” He lowers his head again an kisses you more fiercely this time.
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gracexthoughts · 24 hours
Text
of violent delights chap 23
arguments
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1 november 1996
Euphemia’s POV
I sit across from the Headmaster, morning sunlight streaming in through the windows, and listen to him make excuses after excuses. We’ve been arguing for about 20 minutes now. Harry and the Triwizard Tournament was all I could think about when I woke up this morning, so I slipped out of bed and dressed earlier than I normally would on a Sunday morning. 
 I went to the Owlery first and sent the letters I scribbled out last night to Remus and Sirius and then to Dumbledore’s office, armed with multiple options that I felt were all perfectly reasonable. Every single one has been shot down. McGonagall stands next to Dumbledore’s desk, watching mostly in silence; although I can tell she agrees with me more than she’ll say. 
“The Goblet constitutes a binding contact. Harry must participate in the tournament,” Dumbledore says in the same calm and lightly condescending tone he has spoken to me with since I entered his office. 
“You can’t hold him to a contract someone else signed for him! He is a child!” I respond, beyond exasperated and pissed off. 
“Euphemia, the world has been far too cruel for either of you to still be considered children,” he responds, tilting his head slightly. 
“How can you not see a problem with that? So what, you consider him an adult so you’ll force him through even more trauma for the entertainment of the masses?” I snap back, not believing that the man who has always seemed to genuinely care for Harry and I could be so cavalier about this. 
“Miss Potter, I will ask you to speak to the Headmaster with the tone deserving of him and is becoming of a Gryffindor,” McGonagall scolds. 
“Harry is a minor in the eyes of the law and I am his guardian, not you!” I press on, my eyes boring into the man across from me without acknowledging I heard my Head of House. “I have spent my entire life trying to give him as normal a life as possible and you have the audacity to sit there and tell me it was useless? That you are willing to continually put him through trials that he is not old enough to consent to? Do you care at all that every single year he has attended this school he has been put in danger, almost dying at least three times in three years? How can you sit here and look me in the eyes and tell me that is acceptable in any way?” I’m yelling now but I don’t care. They can give me detention for the next two years if it means Harry is pulled from the tournament. Dumbledore doesn’t speak for a long, tense moment; he just sits still and stares at me as I’m a disappointing child he can’t figure out how to push in the right direction. 
“Are you quite finished?” He says finally but I don’t respond. I just grit my teeth and hold back what I think of him at this moment. “Good. Now I consulted with Mr. Crouch on this issue last night and he stated, as I have already told you, that the rules are absolute. If a person’s name comes out of the Goblet of Fire, regardless of age or intent, they are obligated by a magically binding contract to participate. While Harry must compete, I assure you that I am doing everything in my power to discover exactly how his name ended up flying out of the goblet.” Dumbledore sits forwards and folds his hands on his desk, his eyes boring into me over his crescent moon spectacles. I hold his gaze for a moment before looking up at McGonagall but she doesn’t quite meet my eyes so I look back to the Headmaster, the supposedly most powerful wizards alive. “Now, will that be all, Miss Potter?” 
I swallow a scoff, biting the inside of my cheek so hard I’m sure it's bleeding. After a moment, I stand from my chair and step towards the large desk, now looking down at the man. 
“If anything happens to my brother, I will hold you personally responsible,” I say slowly, leaning my hands on his desk. 
“I have no doubt, Miss Potter. You are every bit your parents’ child, after all,” he says pleasantly, as if we were having a pleasant chat about my goals in life. This time I don’t hold back my scoff as I push away from the desk and turn on my heel, leaving his office and slamming the door behind me. 
I storm back into the Gryffindor Tower and head back into my room, the long walk through the castle doing nothing to lessen my anger. I open the door to my room to see Harry and Mattheo talking very seriously by the fire. At the sound of the door, both their heads whip to me and Harry’s eyes meet mine. 
“Mia, I swear I didn’t-” 
“I know,” I respond immediately, knowing my brother well enough to know glory isn’t something he chases. “I just came from Dumbledore’s office…” I look over Harry’s shoulder to Matt, who’s looking down at the fire. 
“What did he say?” Harry asks, a small sliver of hope in his eyes. 
“He said there’s nothing to be done, I can’t believe it but he didn’t budge,” I sigh and shake my head and the tiny sliver of hope in his eyes fades. I step further into the room and wrap my arms around him, one hand on the back of his head as he rests his forehead on my shoulder and his arms around my waist, the way we’d hold each other when we were little and scared; although now he’s several inches taller than me. 
“I’m so sorry, Haz,” I whisper, blinking tears away, refusing to show him how truly terrified I am for him. “I’m gonna help you, okay?” I say, pulling back to look into his eyes, “I’ll teach you anything you need to know, we’ll get you through this. I promise.” 
“I know, Mia. It’s not your fault,” Harry says quietly. 
“Did they tell you about the first task?” Harry nods. 
“Supposed to test our courage they said but wouldn’t say how. It's on the 28th, we can’t ask for help from teachers and we can only have our wands with us.” 
“Don’t give you much to go on, huh?” Mattheo adds quietly. 
“I’ll put together a list of spells that might come in handy, and I can teach you the ones you don’t know already. And I’ll see if I can find any information on what the tasks have been in the past, see if we can get any idea of what you’ll face and I’ve written to Sirius and Remus,” Harry startles for a moment at me using Sirius’ real name, glancing at Mattheo for a moment but he must not care that I’ve told him because the look faded quickly, “Maybe Dumbledore will listen to them or maybe they have some information about the Tournament, but let's not worry about it today, okay?” Harry nods again, his eyes cast down. 
 “I have to go to this stupid photo thing,” he says quietly and I watch as Harry moves to the door and opens it slowly, like going back into the world is the last thing he wants. 
“Hey, Haz,” I call, causing him to turn around, “Don’t listen to anyone else, ‘kay? We know the truth, what anyone else thinks doesn’t matter.” Harry nods, forcing a small smile my way before stepping out of my room, the door closing behind me. 
As soon as the door closes, all the strength drains from my body and I slump onto the edge of my bed, head in my hands as tears threaten to spill over onto my cheeks. 
“Harry’s a smart kid… He’ll be okay,” Mattheo says softly, as I hear his footsteps coming closer till he is kneeling in front of me, his hands on my knees, rubbing small circles with his thumbs. I drop my hands from my face and look at my boyfriend, his warm brown eyes filled with worry and sympathy. 
“What if he’s not okay? I mean they added an age requirement for a reason and even then they made no assurance of safety. What if he-” My throat tightens as tears spill onto my cheeks and panic threatens to overtake me again but Matt stands and pulls me into his arms, my head resting on his chest, his heart beating softly. 
“He’s gonna be okay, princess. We’ll help him and he’ll get through it just like he always has,” he says softly, rubbing my back and running his fingers through my hair. “It’s gonna be okay.” 
“Why would anyone do this to him?” I ask distantly, only one or two names come to mind but I hesitate to speak them outloud, realizing for the first time in a while that the man standing in front of me is his son, and the second is his uncle. He wouldn’t… No, he couldn’t have, he’s not old enough. Get it together, Euphemia. 
“Mia, I promise I had nothing to do with it,” Mattheo starts, seeming to read the direction my mind went. 
“No, I know,” I say quickly, standing up and cupping his face with my hands. “I trust you, Matt. Promise… Do you think Malfoy’s father might have something to do with it? He did give Ginny your father’s diary a few years back.” Mattheo’s face scrunches up in thought and steps back, shaking his head. 
“I don’t know if Lucius is crafty enough for something like this,” he says quietly. “The diary would have been easy to slip into her things and easy to hide his guilt but… I can’t even fathom how you would trick a magical object like the Goblet of Fire.’ 
“But who else? Do you think…” Mattheo turns to me quickly, a dark look flashing in his eyes. 
“My father is dead,” he says bluntly. 
“Right… No, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have brought him up,” I say, hugging my arms across my core, my bottom lip caught between my teeth as I think. 
“It’s alright, I don’t blame you. It’s a… natural leap, I guess.” Mattheo and I stand there in the tensest silence since he cornered me at the start of term. I take a step forward and pull Matt’s face down to mine, connecting our lips. 
“I trust you,” I mutter between kisses, and his arms wrap more tightly around me, pulling me so close I feel like we might just melt together. 
“I know, princess. I trust you too,” he whispers back, resting his forehead against mine. “It’s all good, baby.” 
13 november 1996
I used to think that my fourth year, when Harry and I were suspected of opening the Chamber of Secrets and treated like social pariahs, was the worst case scenario. Well, let’s just say that this time around, no one is afraid we will petrify them so they’ve gotten much braver. Malfoy, charming as ever, managed to get his hands on a bunch of Hermione’s S.P.E.W. badges and transformed them into buttons which read all sorts of nasty things: Potter Stinks, Support Cedric Diggory, the REAL Hogwarts Champion, Diggory Rules, Potter Drools etc. Half the school is wearing them, much to Hermione’s dismay since barely anyone wore her version of the badges before. 
Mattheo, protective as ever, has spent much of his time glaring at anyone who dares to look at me sideways and has gotten into multiple fights in defense of me. I’ve pulled him out of two confrontations today alone, and we’re barely halfway though the day. Honestly, with how many fights he gets in, I’m surprised they haven’t taken his prefect badge away yet. The Twins have been enacting vengeance in their own ways, mostly through pranks and charming the buttons to say nasty things about the wearer instead. 
Harry and Ron are at odds, also, so Harry has been spending more time than normal with me. I’ve been trying to help with defensive spells and curses to prepare him for the first tasks and he is picking them up quickly, but it doesn’t help much to assuage our anxiety. 
“Hi Potter, how’s your day going? Like the badge?” Elladora coos from behind me in the library, pulling my mind from my studies. Typical that she chose the only period I don’t share with Mattheo today to come taunt me. I’ve got a free period after lunch while Matt is stuck in Arithmancy. 
“Bugger off, Lestrange,” I say without turning or looking up from my Potions essay. 
“What? You don’t want to see my badge?” She says, stalking around me before leaning over the table, but I still don’t look up. 
“Honestly, I couldn’t give fewer shits about anything having to do with you,” I say with a flat tone, flipping through my text book. 
“Hm, well, it’s alright I suppose. I’ll have plenty of time to show it off. Real shame you’ve drug Mattheo into your mess and sullied him with your tainted blood,” Elladora coos cruelly. 
“You do know that he's a half blood, yes? Just like me,” I say simply, finally looking up at the girl. She wears a Potter Stinks badge, her unruly dark hair tied up in a bun so as to ensure the badge is always visible. “So either we are both tainted or neither of us are. You can’t have it both ways, Ella,” I continue, purposefully using her nickname and her lip curls up in a sneer. 
“Half Blood bitch,” she sneers, leaning closer to my face but I don’t back up, determined to not give Elladora Lestrange a single second of satisfaction. 
“Damn, got me there. How’d you come up with your insults? They’re just so unique,” I snark back dryly and stand, grabbing my belongings to push past the Slytherin girl to find somewhere with actual peace. 
“Your brother is going to die,” she calls after me, stopping me in my tracks. “Everyone knows it.” Without even thinking, I drop everything from my arms and whip around, punching Elladora straight in the nose so hard she stumbles back into the table I was sitting at, all the anxiety and anger and stress from the last few weeks boiling over. Luckily, I had chosen to set up in a back corner of the library, so no one is currently around to witness my outrage. The girl sits on the floor, blood beginning to drip from her nose as she glares up at me. 
“Keep mine, my brother’s and my boyfriend’s names out of your disgusting prejudiced mouth, or I’ll do a lot worse next time,” I say lowly, anger coursing through my body as I turn on my heel, summon my belongings back into my arms with wandless magic and storm out of the library, through the castle and up to the Astronomy Tower. 
I’m there nearly an hour later when Mattheo climbs the steps, coming to meet me after his Arithmancy lesson. “Hey, Princess,” he says lightly and I turn my head to face him, offering him a half smile. “Oof, that bad, huh?” he asks, pulling out his own cigarette as I take a drag of mine. 
“Just tired,” I say softly, looking out over the grounds, the trees have almost all lost their leaves and the color seems to be leaking from the world under the gray sky. 
“Oi! Potter!” Theo’s voice echoes up the stairs, accompanied by heavy footsteps. 
“Mia! Are you up here?” Fred’s voice calls and both Mattheo and I turn around to see Enzo and Theo bounding up the stairs, followed surprisingly by Fred and George. While our friends have each, for the most part, accepted mine and Mattheo’s relationship, getting them to all be friends has been a little more challenging. Well just the boys really; Astoria, Angelina, Alicia and I all get on great. 
“Is it true?” Enzo huffs breathlessly, hunching over as he tries to catch his breath.
“Is what true?” Mattheo asks, looking between the three of us. 
“Mia sucker punched Ella! We saw her running to the infirmary with blood dripping from her nose muttering about that ‘stupid Potter bitch.’” Theo says. 
So if it is true?” Freddie asks, recovering his breath. 
I hold up my right hand, knuckles turning slightly bruised already and Theo, Enoz, George and Fred start cracking up. 
“Oh man, what I would’ve paid to see that!” laughs Enzo. 
“Can’t blame you, honestly. I’ve been wondering when the perfect act was gonna crack under the pressure.” Theo responds. 
“Good on you, Phe. She’s been asking for that for years!” Freddie whoops, high fiving George. 
“What happened?” Mattheo asks seriously, cradling my hand in his. I just shrug. 
“She was being a bitch, doesn’t matter,” I sigh, leaning back against a stone pillar and taking a final drag of my cigarette before stubbing it out and flicking it over the edge of the tower. 
“Mia…” Mattheo says, stepping closer to me, holding my gaze intently. the intensity between us causing the other two boys to quiet down for a moment. 
“She said Harry is going to die,” I whisper, barely able to utter the words, as if speaking them allowed will make them a reality. Mattheo’s face hardens before my eyes and I can practically see the battle raging behind his eyes, to stay and comfort me or go after her. “It’s whatever, I took care of it.” 
“Are you okay?” He asks and I nod. “Hand hurt?” 
“Yeah,” I admit, flexing my hand slightly.
“Kinda wish I was there. I bet you looked so hot,” Mattheo mutters, looking down at me, my hand still held gently in his. 
“You’re ridiculous,” I chuckle. 
“Man, Mia, I can’t believe you actually punched her!” George laughs, shaking his head. 
“Listen, we were going to plan a prank on Malfoy for making those bloody badges and now, we can extend the target rage,” Fred says, deviously. 
“We’ll help,” Enzo offers, patting Theo on the back as well. 
“Really?” George questions, looking suspicious. 
“Hell yeah,” Mattheo says, “They need to pay.” 
And I watch as the five boys all smile deviously at each other, and I can’t help but smile as I watch some of my favorite people in the world get completely and totally on the same side for once. 
a/n; im a dumbledore anti if you cant tell lmao also ik we all hate elladora, i hate her and she’s my oc lmao but i do kinda have fun writing her esp this chapter lol
also I’m gonna be traveling for a few weeks so idk how much time I’ll get to write/post but i will let you know day of when i post and if you want to be added to the taglist lmk!! thanks for reading as always loves❤️
taglist; @purplegardenwhispers @somethingswiftandstyles @weasleyreidstyles @mayamonroem @girlbooklover555 @abaker74 @stxrsberkshire
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angelfic · 9 months
Note
Heyyy
I don't know if your still doing this but if you are, I would LOVE a Mattheo Riddle, mutual pining, prompt 1. Love you so much.
ask and you shall receive😚💌
mattheo riddle x reader + mutual pining + “who did this to you?”
➺ part of my 2k milestone writing game
The castle is silent when you make your way to the Astronomy tower. Over the last week, you’ve figured out the best possible route to get there after curfew without bumping into Peeves or the Baron while avoiding any particularly loud portraits.
Ever since Hermione started pacing around the dorm while knitting, the Muffliato charm has been rendered useless and the clicking of the needles has driven you crazy. Combined with Fred and George’s experiments in the common room until early hours of the morning, the Astronomy tower is the only place you can get a moment’s peace.
Your footsteps into the tower become hesitant though, when you spot a wisp of smoke coming from behind one of the pillars. After taking a few tentative steps further, you realise with a jolt that it’s none other than Mattheo Riddle sat there, cigarette loosely held between his fingers. You recognise him from the barely visible angle pretty quickly, owing to the fact you’ve found yourself staring at him from afar more times than you’d care to admit.
He doesn’t turn around, flicking at his cigarette and when you shuffle, making a noise, he lets his head fall back to rest against the pillar. “Enzo, if you’re here to pester me again, you can fuck off.”
“Er, not Lorenzo,” you reply, voice quiet in the echoing tower. Mattheo sits up straight immediately, twisting around to look at you with wide eyes. “Sorry…”
“It’s fine,” he says quickly, giving you a hint of a smile. He nods over to a spot near him. “You can come sit if you want.”
You contemplate politely refusing since you probably won’t get any work done with Mattheo right in front of you, but another glance at him has your feet moving of their own accord.
Once he comes into full view, you notice in the moonlight that Mattheo’s nose shows the remnants of dried blood, there’s a bruise blossoming on his cheekbone and his knuckles are split open. It isn’t an unusual sight and you’ve often seen him around the castle either in the middle of a fight or with cuts and bruises as a result of one, yet you still find yourself staring.
Mattheo raises an eyebrow and smirks, despite the cut on his lip. “What, have I got something on my face?”
You blink, silent for a couple beats before clearing your throat. “Who, uhm, who did… this… to you?”
He shrugs, bringing the cigarette back to his lips to inhale. “Some Ravenclaw prick this morning.”
“How come you haven’t healed yourself?” you ask, tilting your head in curiosity. “You normally do by this point.”
Mattheo’s lips quirk up in sort of a pleased smile, his eyes crinkling. “You pay attention to me, do you?”
“No, I- It’s just,” you stammer, fiddling with the corner of your planner and avoiding his gaze. You most definitely do pay attention to him, but you’d much rather jump off the Astronomy tower than admit to it. “You’re always getting into fights. It’s kind of hard not to.”
It isn’t clear if he believes you or not, since his face still displays an unwavering smile, but he nods slowly before answering your previous question. “Enzo usually does it. The healing spells.”
You consider this and hesitate for a few seconds, biting your bottom lip in nervous habit before abruptly standing up and walking over to the Slytherin. Plopping down next to him, you take your wand out of your pocket, which he eyes warily.
“I know some healing spells,” you explain. Raising your eyebrows in question, you point your wand at his face and wait for his consent, which he gives in the form of a nod. Starting with his lip, you mutter “Episkey.” The cut seals itself up, so you do the same with his knuckles before using ‘Tergeo’ to siphon off the dried blood around his hands and nose.
“Back to looking flawless?” he asks with a cheeky grin and you choke out a laugh, surprised at how relaxed he’s being with you. Mattheo isn’t as brooding as the rest of his friends, but he certainly isn’t all sunshine and giggles with people he isn’t close with. And it’s not like the two of you have ever conversed before, so you’re a little more than puzzled. Not that you’re complaining. “What’s had you so exhausted this week?”
“Hermione’s been staying up knitting and I can’t sleep through it like the others,” you sigh, moving back to sit against the pillar like Mattheo is. This is your first night coming to the Astronomy Tower though, so you furrow your brows and turn to Mattheo to tell him exactly that. “How do you-”
“You’ve been nodding off at breakfast,” he says, matter-of-fact. You don’t know how to respond, opening your mouth but not having anything to say. Mattheo notices your loss for words and swallows, suddenly sheepish. The tips of his ears have turned a light pink and he shuffles, making your shoulders touch slightly. “I pay attention to you too.”
“Oh,” you breathe out, heart about to burst out of your chest. You look down to where his hand is on the floor next to yours and in a brave move, you move your own so your pinkies are touching.
Mattheo is silent when he interlocks your fingers, meeting your eyes. His smile reappears, one that feels reserved for you. You’ve never seen him look more gentle before, and when he finally reaches over to kiss you in the quiet, moonlit tower surrounded by the stars, you begin wishing you’d started losing sleep weeks ago.
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bettymylove · 4 months
Text
best game
pairing: mattheo riddle x reader x theodore nott
content: 18+ mdni, p in v, oral(male receiving), shotgunning, making out. based on this ask
a/n: I'm still learning how to write poly!relationships, hope you like it<33
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Maybe it was the fire whisky or maybe it was the thrilling game of truth and dare you had going on, but if the one factor you were sure was what resulted in what happened it was the pretty boys you call your bestfriends.
It had started as an innocent game, just between you, Mattheo, and Theo. All three of you were childhood best friends and that was it, you definitely weren't attracted to them at all.
The bottle spun around, slowing down until the tip of it was clearly facing you, indicating that it was your turn to choose between paths that were both dangerous.
But you had just drunk a lot of fire whisky, and it was a thrilling game plus their faces were really pretty and so the daredevil inside you awoke and you chose dare.
A mischievous smirk formed on both their faces and you knew nothing good was going to happen after that.
"Makeout with mattheo, for at least five minutes" Theo had spoken and even if it weren't for the game you would have still done it, who wouldn't?
You crept forward, lifting your body so you were on your knees, you carefully placed yourself on his lap and his breath hitched.
"Nervous?" you questioned him your hand tracing down his cheek to his collar pulling him even closer.
Both of your lips were brushing, but it was you that deepened it, your tongue delved into his mouth and his hand was gripping your waist tightly.
You could feel him under you, probing you and you as an instinct began to grind on him. He groaned in your mouth and you broke off for a second before delving in again.
You two broke off and you slowly returned back to your seat, a slight blush on your cheeks. Theo had widened eyes and was visibly hard.
His fingers holding the cigarette, quickly met his lips taking a long drag, none of you made a move to spin the bottle.
It was a long moment of silence which Theo broke by asking you to come to him. You sat beside him, your hands in your lap desperate to be closer to him.
His hands met your thigh lifting it so that you were almost on his lap, he tilted your chin up and it was at that moment you realised what he was going to do.
His eyebrows raised as if asking you if you're sure, and you answered with a simple nod. Being childhood bestfriends had allowed you to communicate without saying a single word.
His lips inched closer and you opened your mouth and he did the same, the smoke past his lips going into yours while you wished you could kiss him, both of them.
A hand slithered on your waist, and you knew by the roughness of his touch that it was Mattheo. He jerked your body back, his hand traveling to your neck gripping on it, forcing you to look back and meet his eyes.
"You want us don't you darling?," he whispered in your ear while his grip became hard, "If Theo puts his hands in your panties, he'll find you wet, won't he?"
His lips had started, leaving kisses down your throat, and you had started grinding on Theo's thigh. "I want you," you had choked out "please just-"
You were cut off by Theo's lips on yours, his tongue being welcomed in your mouth, your hand pulled Mattheo's head closer to your neck so he could continue.
All of a sudden, you were picked up by Mattheo and then just the next moment you were thrown on the bed, Theo joining you.
Both of them had lifted their shirts off their head and were in the process of doing the same to you, each inch which was revealed was kissed by both of your boys.
Finally your top was off and Theo's hand instantly went to your boobs, grabbing them, squeezing them and finally licking them.
Mattheo had started working on your bottoms, making fast work to remove them, his hands delving inside your panties, teasing your folds his fingers getting drenched in the process.
"You're so wet, we're gonna slip right past you" and you smiled at the thought of being full of their cocks.
Theo had undone his pants and your hand reached his boxers, palming him until he was a moaning mess. You took his cock out and it sprung out and you were more than ready to take him in your mouth.
Mattheo was too fully naked, he was palming his cock just in front of your cunt ready to feel you around him, "Are you sure?" he asked before he did so.
You replied affirmatively, and his tip was inside of you, and you were already moaning, he entered fully inside you and you moaned asking him to move.
Theo's cock came into sight and you held it in your hand, slowly taking him in your mouth, hollowing out your cheeks.
Both boys began a rhythm you were definetly happy with, Theo came inside your mouth and you too were on the verge of doing so until the feeling of Mattheo left you and you whined.
"Calm down, baby Theo's coming" he had started fisting his cock aiming for your lower belly, and soon the feeling of being full returned.
All three of you were moaning, Mattheo was playing with your nipples and just then, you came along with Theo.
Mattheo also finished on your belly and laid down with a sigh, both of them pulled on their boxers and helped you clean up.
You laid on mattheo's chest while Theo was laying his head on your lower back, all three of you fully content to be here.
"That was the best game I have ever played" you said while tucking yourself into Mattheo while both of them chuckled at your statement
2K notes · View notes
sadnymi · 28 days
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「 ✦ cloud nine p2.✦ 」
Mattheo riddle × reader [part1]
Summary: The "jinx girl," as they call her, is said to bring bad luck. However, when Mattheo Riddle decides to get to know the school's most neglected girl and takes matters into his own hands, Y/N's life is turned upside down in a mere night.
Warnings:angst, smut, fluff
Words: 13.5k
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[ A Cry for Help (and Hippogriffs)]
Dear Uncle Ben ,
Consider this my official "You were absolutely right (but with way more heartbreak)" letter. Remember all those warnings you showered me with before I left for Hogwarts? Werewolves, Dementors, rogue Gillyweed incidents (honestly, who even uses that stuff anymore?) You covered the whole spectrum of nightmarish magical creatures. But why, oh why, did you neglect to warn me about charming Slytherins with a really really pretty smiles and the ability to shatter hearts ?
Yes, Uncle Ben, your favorite niece (and, let's be honest, only niece) has officially fallen from cloud nine and landed face-first in a puddle of disappointment. Remember Mattheo Riddle? The one with the eyes like melted chocolate and a smile that could disarm a grumpy Hippogriff? Turns out….well, you get the picture. My heart is in as many pieces as a poorly repaired Floo Network."
So, here's the thing, Uncle Ben . **I'm done. Hogwarts can keep its feasts, its Quidditch matches, and its overly enthusiastic Potions lessons.** I wouldn't be caught dead on the Hogwarts Express, and frankly, the Burrow isn't exactly calling my name right now either.
This is where you come in, my valiant (and hopefully broomstick-wielding) savior. **I need an extraction, Uncle Ben . A daring rescue. A grand exit that would make even Dumbledore raise an eyebrow.** Floo powder me out? Sneak me aboard a disguised Thestral? Honestly, at this point, I'd even settle for a well-timed Hippogriff stampede (though maybe not – those beaks look awfully sharp).
So please uncle Ben As soon as this letter reaches your extraordinary hands, pack your Niffler leash, your Newt-approved travel kettle, and anything else that might help
Your distraught (and slightly heartbroken) niece,
Y/N
P.S. Please bring some Bertie Bott's Every-Flavour Beans. Maybe a chocolate frog or two wouldn't hurt either.
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After folding the letter with care, I sealed it using a wax stamp adorned with a grumpy-looking Kneazle, a delightful creation from a talented first-year Hufflepuff. Placing it inside an owl-sized envelope addressed to "Benjamin Scamander, Ministry of Magical Creatures, Department for Beast Regulation and Control," I sent it off with a silent prayer for a speedy rescue.
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Y/N
Consider it done. Talon wasn't thrilled about the Beans (apparently, they don't quite mesh with his sophisticated palate), but the chocolate frogs seemed to appease him. Be ready by nightfall. We'll have a proper family reunion, Hippogriff style.
P.S. Don't worry about any "Hippogriff stampedes." Talon's surprisingly well-mannered (for the most part).
Love,
Uncle Ben
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After two blissful days away from Hogwarts at Uncle Ben's cozy cottage in the Welsh hills, I woke up to find him bustling about the room. Despite the comfort and serenity of our time together, I couldn't shake off the tears that stained his (probably very expensive) linens.
He lumbered in, a steaming mug clutched in his hand, followed by a bewildered-looking Billywig (apparently, they weren't exactly known for their graceful exits).
"Here," he said kindly, placing the mug on the bedside table. "Peppermint tea. Guaranteed to cure a broken heart… or at least numb it a bit."
I took a shaky sip, the warmth spreading through me like a gentle hug. Uncle Ben perched on the edge of the bed, concern evident in his gaze that battled with his usual amusement.
"Alright, spill it," he finally said, a hint of exasperation in his voice. "What's got you blubbering like a Bowtruckle caught in a rainstorm?"
I choked on a sob, wiping my nose with the back of my hand. "It's just… everything. Mattheo… the rumors… the whole thing feels so stupid."
"Stupid? Sweetheart, this is practically a textbook case of teenage wizarding drama!," Uncle Ben said with a chuckle.
"First, the rumors. Turns out Charlie Spinnet, fancies you and that by the way explains the sudden change in cologne and his haircut whenever he visits. But then instead of acting like a normal human being, he decided to spread those ridiculous stories about you being a jinx?"
I nodded, sniffling. "And then there's Riddle Jr.," Uncle Ben continued, his voice laced with a hint of disapproval. "Used you for a dare? Honestly, these Slytherins – where's the chivalry gone? Back in my day, we at least serenaded our crushes with a well-timed love potion, not a staged play."
"I know right? !" I cried, wiping away fresh tears, he come closer pulling me into a warm hug.
When the last tear finally dried, a heavy silence settled between us. My eyelids drooped, exhaustion pulling me under. "Uncle Ben," I mumbled, my voice thick with sleep, "Can I… can I leave Hogwarts?"
He pulled back slightly, his eyes searching mine. "Is that what you want, Y/N?"
"I don't… I don't want to see him, or them, or…" My voice trailed off, the thought of facing whispers and pitying glances unbearable.
He squeezed my hand gently. "There are other schools, Y/N. Places where you can learn, grow, and maybe even find someone who truly appreciates you."
A flicker of hope sparked within me. A fresh start? A chance to heal away from the prying eyes and judgmental whispers? "Do you think… could I transfer… maybe to Beauxbatons?"
Uncle Ben chuckled. "Beauxbatons? Now that's an interesting choice. But hey, if you fancy learning with a bunch of wand-waving fashionistas, who am I to say no?"
The crisp Welsh air whipped through my hair as I sat on the porch swing, watching the sun set over the rolling hills. Uncle Ben's cottage, nestled amongst ancient oaks, seemed even cozier with the warm, orange light bathing its stone walls.
Thankfully, he'd managed to smooth things over with my parents, convincing them it would be perfect for me to stay with him until I figured out what to do about school.
Weeks melted into each other, and a unsettling undercurrent began to ripple through the otherwise idyllic setting. Every boy who showed even a flicker of interest in me or mustered the courage to ask me out –vanished after our initial encounter. Poof. Gone.
Only to reappear the next day, looking sheepish and pale, with mumbled apologies for missing our planned date . "something came up" or a sudden "family emergency."
kind, awkward Liam, sporty William , even that quiet bookworm Ethan – they all faced the same fate , a freckled boy named Callum, practically leaped over a nearby toadstool with a yelp, his face blanching as if he'd seen a ghost. It was as though the sight of the bumpy amphibian unearthed a buried terror within him.
And it’s seems like anyone who would show any interest in me will face the same fate
Case in point: a particular book I had discussed with a boy who worked at the library and had also asked me out for a date. The next day, that very book was on uncle Ben leaving room the next day and I knew for sure that uncle Ben wasn’t the one who did that .
Curiosity piqued, I went to the library to inquire about the book's whereabouts, only to find the boy in a state of sheer terror. He avoided eye contact and stammered out a nervous apology, his fear palpable in the way he trembled. It was as if he had encountered something terrifying, something that left him traumatized overnight. Unsettled by the encounter, I sought help from another library assistant to locate the book I wanted. This time, the assistant was more than eager to assist, his eyes darting around nervously as if expecting something unexpected to happen again.
Weeks dragged by, each day a monotonous echo of the last.
As I wake up today a tear slipped down my cheek, tracing a warm path through the cool morning air. I cursed myself under my breath, blinking furiously to clear my vision. There it was again, the lingering echo of his touch, the warmth of his smile, all remnants of a cruel dream.
Damn it. I cursed myself under my breath, throwing the covers back with a huff. How dare I miss him? How dare my traitorous subconscious paint him in a loving light after everything? The betrayal, the lies, they were all still raw, a constant reminder of his deceit.
Feeling the need for some solace and quiet reflection, I decided to head to the library
The usually a comforting haven, was eerily silent. A prickle of unease crawled up my spine. Did the boy who worked here quit ? Thanks a lot, Mattheo.
Pushing open the library doors, I was greeted by an unsettling emptiness. Pushing the thought aside, I navigated the towering bookshelves, half expecting some kind of magical mishap – maybe a rogue pixie infestation? With a spine-tingling creak. An unsettling feeling wormed its way into my stomach. Surely Johnny, the cute boy who worked here, wouldn't leave the entire library unattended?
"Hello, Johnny?" I called out, my voice echoing eerily in the vast space. No answer. Great. Just fantastic.
Shrugging it off, I ventured deeper into the labyrinth of bookshelves. The silence pressed in on me, broken only by the soft pad of my footsteps. Halfway expecting a rogue Acromantula to drop from the ceiling or a mischievous pixie to trip me with a strategically placed shoelace, I navigated the towering stacks.
Suddenly, a loud creak pierced the silence. My heart lurched, and I spun around, wand instinctively halfway out of my pocket. The heavy library door swung shut with an ominous finality. For a moment, I stood frozen, every nerve on high alert. Was I alone?
and there he was ... His usual playful smirk was replaced by a furrowed brow and a flicker of something… hurt? Regret? It was a confusing cocktail that sent my carefully constructed facade teetering on the edge of collapse.
My heart hammered a frantic rhythm against my ribs, threatening to burst from my chest. My carefully crafted mask of indifference felt like it was cracking under the sheer force of seeing him.
the silence of the library seemed deafening, amplifying the chaotic symphony playing out inside me.
I plastered a smile on my face, hoping it came across as confident and not the terrified mess I truly felt. This was ridiculous. He was the one who lied and betrayed me, not the other way around. Yet, here I was, feeling like I was the one on trial.
"Dramatic much?" I spat, my voice laced with venom. "So what's the deal now, Riddle? Bored with your little toad transformation hobby? Decided to haunt the library instead?"
He gave me a slow once-over, his gaze lingering a beat too long. It sent a shiver down my spine, a confusing mix of anger and a vulnerability I desperately tried to suppress.
Folding my arms, I tried to project an air of annoyance. "Look, Riddle," I said, forcing a harsher tone than I felt. "Let's cut to the chase. Open the door and disappear."
As he took a tentative step towards me, the carefully constructed wall around my emotions started to crumble. His eyes held a depth of emotion I couldn't decipher – hurt? Regret? It was a confusing mix that threatened to unravel me.
"You never mentioned you were a Scamander," he murmured, his voice barely a whisper. The sound of it after all this time, even laced with the echoes of past pain, was a punch to the gut.
-well technically I was from my mother side but i never dared to say that to anyone afraid to bring shame to the family name , because I never felt like I deserved to.
Tears pricked at the back of my eyelids, a bittersweet smile tugging at the corner of my lips. "And you," I choked out, the words raw with hurt, "never mentioned being fucking liar . Seems like we're even, wouldn't you agree?"
he started to speak. "I know you don’t want to listen—"
Frustration bubbled over before he could finish his sentence. "Why are you even here, Riddle?" I snapped. "You know I don't want to hear your excuses."
His gaze held mine, unwavering despite the storm brewing in my own eyes.
"Stop staring at me like that!" I hissed, the vulnerability I desperately tried to hide threatening to spill over.
Desperate to break the tension, I lunged for the door, yanking on the handle. Panic surged as it remained stubbornly shut. "What's wrong with this stupid door?" I yelled, "We can't use magic outside Hogwarts!" I exclaimed, bewildered. "Did you do something to the door?" Kicking it with my foot in frustration.
Spinning back to face him, my voice trembled with a mix of fury and fear. "What did you do to those boys, Mattheo? Turned them into toads?"
A smirk played on his lips, a sight that only intensified my urge to lash out. "Not all of them," he countered, his voice laced with a hint of something… jealousy? "Why? Do you care about them?"
“Apparently I did “I challenged, my voice laced with a bitterness I couldn't hide, "That's why I agreed to go out with them in the first place."
His smugness evaporated, replaced by a desperate plea that sent a shiver down my spine. "Don't go to Beauxbatons, love," he pleaded, his voice barely a whisper, laced with such raw emotion it threatened to crack the dam of my anger ,considering his impressive stalking skills I wasn’t surprised he knew about that ..
"Don't call me that, Riddle," I choked out, squeezing my eyes shut to hold back the traitorous tears that welled up. When I opened them again, the sight that greeted me was my breaking point.
Hurt, confusion, and a flicker of something that looked suspiciously like longing swirled in his eyes. "Why - why did you keep calling me that? Why not say my name?" he asked, his voice thick with a pain that mirrored my own.
"It's just Riddle for me now ," I said, my voice cold, a desperate attempt to shield myself from the storm of emotions brewing within me.
"Please," he whispered, the word hanging heavy in the air. "Please don't go to Beauxbatons."
"Get out of my way," I snapped, my voice laced with a venom I barely recognized. "I won't say it again."
He took a hesitant step forward, his eyes pleading. "I'm not above begging," he said, his voice low and urgent. "I'll do anything you ask. You say you hate me, then hate me. Ruin my life. Do whatever will make you feel better, just do it in front of me. Stay at Hogwarts."
Shock rendered me speechless. "Don't do this," he continued, his voice cracking. "Not for me, but for you. Don't run away. If anyone deserves to leave Hogwarts, it's not you. Please, don't do this."
His words hung heavy in the air, each one a shard of truth that pierced the carefully constructed wall of anger I'd built around myself. "Let go of my hand, Mattheo," I whispered, not daring to look at him. He released me slowly, his touch a lingering ghost on my skin.
The silence stretched on, heavy and thick. Finally, I forced myself to meet his gaze. My own eyes, red-rimmed and tear-filled, mirrored the raw emotion in his. With a shaky breath, I whispered, "Open the door now , please."
He nodded, his face etched with pain. The door swung open silently, and for a moment, our eyes locked. Then, without a word, I turned and walked towards the door.
But before I reached the doorway, a new urgency filled his voice. "Y/N, wait!" He reached out a hand, but stopped himself before making contact. "I know I messed up. There's no excuse for what I did, but please believe me – I love you. And I'm not giving us up. I'll do whatever it takes to prove it to you."
The weight of his words hung in the air, a challenge and a plea rolled into one. My heart pounded a frantic rhythm against my ribs, Taking a deep. I turned and walked out, leaving Mattheo standing alone in the empty library.
Reaching Uncle Ben's cozy cottage, I fumbled with the latch, my vision obscured by a fresh wave of tears. The door creaked open to reveal Uncle Ben, his face creasing in concern at the sight of me. Before I could even think of a response, I was enveloped in his warm, familiar embrace.
"Merlin's beard, Y/N," he chuckled, his voice laced with concern, "what happened? Did you lose a duel with a particularly grumpy pixie?"
Pulling back, I managed a watery smile. "Something like that," I mumbled, wiping my eyes with the back of my hand. Uncle Ben's gaze narrowed, his playful demeanor replaced by a more serious one.
"You know, all this tears and sniffles could lead one to believe…"
He paused dramatically, dragging out the suspense. "You are not pregnant, are you?”
"Pregnant? Uncle Ben, seriously?"
He threw his head back and laughed, a booming sound that filled the room. "Just checking! Seriously that world won’t survive another riddle “
We sat in comfortable silence for a while, the only sound the crackling fire in the hearth.
"You know," he finally said, his voice gentle, "sometimes the heart wants what it wants, regardless of past hurts." He met my gaze, his eyes filled with a knowing warmth. "The question is, Y/N, what does yours truly want?"
"I don't really know," I admitted, my voice barely a whisper. "One thing's for sure, though. I'm done running. I can't keep letting fear dictate my life."
“Every time something gets hard, I pack my metaphorical bags and vanish. But this time… this time it feels different."
Tears welled up in my eyes, blurring my vision. "There's this anger inside me, this need for revenge," I confessed, letting out a shaky breath. "It scares me, Uncle Ben. "
Uncle Ben reached for me his hand warm and comforting on mine. "There's a difference, Y/N, between righteous anger and destructive vengeance," he said softly. "Anger can be a powerful motivator, a fuel that can propel you forward. But it's crucial to channel it, to use it to grow stronger, not to let it control you."
Turning to him, I met his gaze with a newfound determination. "So," I started, a mischievous glint sparkling in my eyes, "would you help me pack up my bags for Hogwarts? And maybe... with something 'Scamander related' ?"
A playful smile mirrored mine on his face. "Always up for a good mystery, Y/N," .
The Hogwarts Express journey wasn't the gauntlet of whispers and pointed fingers I'd braced myself for. The carriage felt eerily quiet, devoid of the usual gossipy chatter and giggling. A part of me wondered if this unsettling silence was Mattheo's doing.
My heart hammered a frantic rhythm against my ribs as I rounded the corner, the familiar brick facade of the school looming ahead. Taking a deep breath.
I saw him.
He was leaning against the oak tree by the entrance, a casual posture that couldn't quite hide the tension in his shoulders. His gaze was fixed on the school doors, and for a thrilling moment, I thought I might have imagined him there.
But then, our eyes met.
His breath hitched ever so slightly, a flicker of surprise crossing his features before a slow smile bloomed on his face. It wasn't a wide, dazzling grin, but a soft, genuine one that crinkled the corners of his eyes.
The next morning, a nervous energy thrummed through me. Gone was the urge to flee; instead, a steely determination burned bright. I arrived at Charms class, ridiculously early, senses sharp with focus.
Adrian Pucey sauntered in, brow furrowed. "Y/N? What are you doing here so early? Malfoy's the one meeting me," he said, surprise flickering in his eyes.
"Just eager for Charms," I replied coolly. "and you said Malfoy ? No idea, really”
Actually I was the one who wrote him the fake note with Malfoy’s name to come earlier.
He cleared his throat, avoiding my gaze. "Look, about what happened , believe me what Mattheo did to me after was enough to ——"
"Don't worry about it, Adrian," I interrupteda sly smile playing on my lips."Things happen."
His surprise deepened. "You...you forgive me that easily?"
Pulling a cupcake from my bag, I offered it. "Freshly baked. Want some?"
Hesitantly, he took a bite. "Sure, thanks."
"Did you know," I said casually, "Flobberworm milk compels truth?" I winked.
Stepping closer, cupcake in hand, I re-offered it. "Second chances deserve a second cupcake, wouldn't you say?"
He hesitated, then took another bite. "Thanks," he mumbled, cheeks warming.
"Speaking of truth-telling," I said, leaning in conspiratorially, "did you know the tears of a phoenix can be used to create a voice projection charm? Like, if I whispered something to a cupcake with phoenix tears baked in, and you ate it, you'd hear it in your mind ."
He blinked, clearly unsure whether to believe me or not.
"Curious, isn't it," I murmured, "the things you can learn when you spend your summer with magical creatures."
Adrian stammered, "Wh-what have you done?"
"Ever wonder what happens when a Hufflepuff marries a Slytherin?" I continued, savoring his confusion.
A playful glint entered my eyes. "Well, for one, someone might get a taste of their own medicine," I quoted my mother with a smirk.
He attempted nonchalance. "Kids would be too good for Slytherin, not quite Hufflepuff."
"And that," I said, a triumphant smile blooming, "is where things get interesting. Especially with a Scamander in the mix.”
I continued, a triumphant grin spreading across my face.“And what happens when you push a Scamander kid too far?" I continued, a triumphant grin spreading across my face. "They use their knowledge, their magical creatures... and maybe a touch of Slytherin cunning for a little revenge.
He backed away, eyes wide.
The bell clanged, shattering the playful tension between Adrian and me. Professor Flitwick,bustled in, his voluminous black robes billowing around him like a miniature storm cloud.
"Good morning, class!" he boomed, "Today, we delve into the fascinating art of Wandless Charms! A skill that separates the truly magical from the...well, let's just say it requires a certain finesse."
Professor Flitwick launched into a lively lecture, demonstrating simple levitation charms with a flourish. As he conjured a teacup to pirouette in the air, I noticed Adrian fidgeting in his seat. Leaning in, I whispered playfully, "Enjoying the class, are we, Pucey?"
He shot me a panicked glance, then mumbled something inaudible. Taking a deep breath, I decided to push my luck a little further. With a mischievous glint in my eyes, I mouthed, "Tell the truth about what you feel of this class ."
Suddenly, Adrian's hand shot up, waving wildly. Professor Flitwick, momentarily distracted, peered over his thick spectacles at the unexpected outburst.
"Mr. Pucey?" he inquired, a quizzical eyebrow raised.
"Professor," Adrian blurted out, his voice surprisingly loud in the quiet room, "I hate Charms! It's useless and frankly, you're a terrible teacher!"
Suddenly, a loud, booming voice erupted from Adrian's mouth, echoing through the entire classroom. "I HATE CHARMS! It's the most useless class ever, I CHEATED on the exam LAST YEAR, and And I've been doing everything just to be the center of attention. I've lied, manipulated, and stepped on others to make myself look better."!"
The entire class erupted in stunned silence, followed by a wave of uncontrollable laughter. Adrian's jaw hung slack, his eyes wide with horror.
Professor Flitwick, his face purple with rage, sputtered, his fist raised in the air. "Mr. Pucey! Ten points from Slytherin! Detention for a month! And perhaps a visit to Madam Pomfrey to check your sanity!"
Adrian sunk deeper into his seat, the laughter morphing into snickers and whispers
The laughter slowly faded, replaced by the echoes of Professor Flitwick's threats. I couldn't help but stifle a triumphant smirk. Adrian practically resembled a puddle of misery in his seat, the color completely drained from his face. Mission accomplished.
Just as I reached the aisle, a hand shot out, grabbing my waist in a surprisingly firm grip. Before I could yelp in surprise, two strong hands was on either side of me , pinning me against the cool stone wall. I found myself staring into the eyes of none other than Mattheo .
"That," he murmured, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down my spine, "was fucking hot."
He brushed a stray strand of hair behind my ear with his thumb, Our gazes locked, the air crackling with sudden awareness.
My gaze remained steely, unflinching. "You liked that?" I challenged, my voice laced with a dangerous edge.
"I like everything you do," he replied with a smirk.
"Good," I said, leaning in closer, my voice barely a whisper. "Because that was just child's play. compared to what I'm planning for you, Riddle"
The bell echoed through the hallway, shattering the moment. Mattheo reluctantly released me, a hint of something akin to fascination flickering in his eyes. "Can’t wait my love ," he winked, a mischievous glint sparkling within, before disappearing into the throng of students.
My success with Adrian fueled a mischievous fire within me. The thrill of using magical creatures for a little payback was intoxicating. Professor Flitwick's class became my testing ground, a petri dish for brewing delightful chaos.
Every person who participated in the stupid play faced my revenge; none escaped unscathed.
The once dreaded nickname "Jinx Girl" had faded into a distant memory. This year, I was Lady Luck, a title whispered with a mix of awe and amusement. My string of successful pranks, each meticulously crafted with a dash of magical creature mischief, had transformed my reputation.
The whispers started subtly, like the rustling of leaves in the forbidden forest. "Did you see what happened ? Y/N's behind it, for sure!" or "Isn't it strange how everything's turned around for her lately?" It was a subtle shift, but the air crackled with a new awareness. The "Jinx Girl" label was fading, replaced by a more intriguing title - Lady Luck.
One gloomy afternoon, as I settled into a plush armchair by the crackling fire, a hesitant knock echoed through the room.
"Come in," I called out, peering over the worn pages of a Charms textbook.
The door creaked open, revealing a sheepish-looking Charlie . His blonde hair seemed to lose its usual vibrancy under the dim light, and his freckles stood out starkly against his pale face.
"Y/N," he mumbled, scuffing his worn boots on the floor. "Can I talk to you for a minute?"
"Sure, Charlie," I said, patting the empty space beside me.
He shuffled in place, fiddling with his wand. "It's... well, everything. The rumors, the play, everything."
“ Look, Y/N, I'm so incredibly sorry. I know I shouldn't have spread those rumors. I... honestly, I was a complete idiot."
"I thought," Charlie continued, his voice laced with shame, "that if I spread those rumors, every boy would stay away from you. I didn't think it would get this bad."
A mixture of anger and curiosity bubbled within me. "Why, Charlie?" I asked, my voice calmer than I felt.
He took a deep breath, his gaze filled with regret. "I… I like you, Y/N a lot since we were just kids but you never noticed me ," he confessed, his voice barely a whisper. "And when I saw you with Mattheo, well, and after everything he did..."
He hung his head. "And the play," he mumbled. "It was me. I told Adrian about your past. I was so angry… jealous, really. After seeing you with Mattheo."
A wave of emotions washed over me. Anger for his actions, confusion for his feelings, and a spark of something else – mattheo wasn’t the one who told them about what happened .
Taking another deep breath, I met Charlie's gaze. "Those rumors hurt," I admitted, my voice firm but gentle. "And the play…" I trailed off, choosing my words carefully. "It was a low blow, Charlie. But…" I hesitated, searching for the right words.
"But you were scared," I finished, a hint of empathy softening my tone. "Jealous, even. It's okay to feel those things, Charlie."
He looked up, a flicker of hope igniting in his blue eyes. "Do you… forgive me?"
I studied him for a moment, taking in his genuine regret. "I do," I said finally. "But forgiveness doesn't erase the consequences. You hurt me, Charlie, and you hurt others I will never forget that ."
Charlie's shoulders slumped. "I know," he said, his voice filled with remorse. "I'll do anything to make it up to you."
I smiled faintly. "Please don’t do anything a normal apologize would do ."
Months had passed since I last set foot in the library, and the scent of aged paper and leather, a familiar comfort that once soothed my soul, now felt laced with a bittersweet pang. Yet, stepping back into the hushed haven felt like tumbling through a time warp. The scent of aged paper, the rhythmic tick of the grandfather clock, even the worn patches on the armchairs – everything whispered memories of Mattheo, both sweet and stinging.
the silence thrummed with echoes of hushed conversations and stolen glances. Memories of stolen moments with Mattheo – whispered secrets amongst the stacks, fingers brushing as we reached for the same book – played in a loop behind my closed eyelids.
A sigh escaped my lips as the heavy oak door shut with a soft thud behind me. The vastness of the library stretched before me, empty shelves yawning like forgotten dreams. No bustling librarians, no chattering students hunched over dusty tomes. Just me, adrift in a sea of silence, the weight of the past clinging to my every step.
But then I saw him.
Mattheo stood near the Charms section, a sly smirk twisting his lips. His eyes, usually filled with a cool amusement, held a challenge this time. A knot of tension formed in my stomach.
"You forgive him so easily," he drawled, his voice low enough to carry only between the towering bookshelves.
He gestured towards an empty space beside him, a clear invitation. My pulse quickened. Part of me wanted to whirl around and storm out, to deny him the satisfaction of any reaction. But another, more curious part, craved to know what game he was playing.
With a measured breath, I sauntered towards him, my chin held high. "Forgive who?" I asked, feigning ignorance.
He raised an eyebrow, the smirk deepening. "Come now, Y/N," he said, his voice a silky murmur. "Don't tell me you haven't had a heart-to-heart with Spinnet already."
"What do you really want, Riddle?" I demanded, my voice trembling with a mix of hurt and confusion.
Mattheo took a shaky breath, his hand reaching out hesitantly before retracting. "I can't do this anymore, Y/N," he confessed, his voice raw. "I thought if I gave you some space..."
"Space?" I scoffed, tears welling up again. "Space? You call watching me all summer, space? I know what you did to those boys, and then threatening everyone in this school on the first day to not talk or do anything to me space??" I yelled, tears streaming down my face.
The words tumbled out, fueled by a wellspring of hurt I hadn't even realized I was holding onto. "I don't understand, Mattheo! I don't really understand. I've dealt with difficult things before, truly awful things, but none of them hurt as much as this betrayal. Why? Why can't I get over it? Why does it feel like someone ripped open my soul and stomped on it a million times? Then it hit me. You did that, Mattheo. You."
My voice broke, replaced by a choked sob. "You showed me a love I never knew existed, a love I never dared to dream of , showered me with affection and tenderness. You touched parts of my soul I never knew were there. Every inch of me, every piece of me – my heart, my mind, my soul – had your name written all over it , Every fiber of my being, every beat of my heart, seemed to have your name etched upon it. And then, you snatched it all away.. They say it's better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all, but that's a lie. Because feeling your love, then losing it, is the worst pain I've ever experienced.”
The air crackled between us, thick with unspoken emotions and the sting of my tears. Mattheo inched closer, his warmth a stark contrast to the turmoil within me. I could feel his breath whisper against my cheek, sending a shiver down my spine.
"Y/N," he pleaded, his voice husky with emotion ."I know you don't believe me," he confessed, his red- eyes searching mine .
“but this feeling... it terrifies me. I've never felt like this before. Never cared about anyone but myself and Enzo . But then you came along. The purest thing I've ever have , the closest I'll ever get to heaven."
His words hung heavy in the air, a stark contrast to the arrogant facade he usually presented.
"I miss you," he continued, his voice raw with longing. "I miss what we had. The way your smile could light up a room, the way your cheeks would flush the prettiest shade of pink ."
He paused, his hand hovering hesitantly near mine. "I can't do this anymore. This game... it's torture. Every stolen glance, every witty banter, it just makes the truth harder to bear. Tell me what you want me to do. Name it, anything. But please, just end this charade. It's killing me “
A tremor ran through him, and for the first time, I saw a flicker of genuine fear in his eyes.
He looked at me for a second, taking a shaky breath. Then, the words tumbled out, raw and unfiltered. "I love you," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "I'm not afraid to say it anymore. I regret not approaching you properly, i regret taking that stupid dare ."
His gaze held mine, desperate for any sign of reciprocation. "You asked if everything between us was a lie," he continued, his voice low. "But listen to me now. You're the truest thing that's ever happened to me. I love you, Y/N. And I can't stand there watching you, knowing I can't hold you. I never wanted to hurt you, And I promise, I'll never let anyone hurt you again"
My heart hammered against my ribs, a frantic drum solo in the quiet library. Every fiber of my being yearned to believe him, to reach out and melt into his embrace. But the betrayal was still fresh, a gaping wound that pulsed with pain.
"I can't trust you anymore, Mattheo," I choked out, the words a bitter truth. "Even if I want to, I can't. Every word you say feels like another lie. I hate you," I confessed, the words ripping from my throat. "I hate you so much for making me want to forgive you. I hate you because I love you so much."
"Don't cry," he pleaded, his voice thick with a desperate sincerity. "I'll do anything. Just say it, and I'll do it."
The promise hung in the air, tempting and dangerous. I reached up and covered his hand with mine, the warmth seeping into my chilled skin. Despite the storm raging inside me, a small part of me craved the comfort of his touch, the solace of forgiveness.
"Then let me go, Mattheo," I whispered, the words tasting like ashes in my mouth. "Let me go. Don't approach me. Don't try to fix anything. Just let me go."
The pain in his eyes mirrored the turmoil within me. "Is that what you truly want?" he asked, his voice barely a whisper.
I could only nod, a fresh wave of tears cascading down my face. Every part of me ached to forget the past, to bury my head in his chest and feel the familiar rhythm of his heartbeat. But the betrayal was a wall I couldn't climb over, not yet.
"Then I will do it ,love." He brushed away my tears one last time, his touch lingering for a heartbreaking moment before he took a step back. The pain in his eyes was a something i could never forget.
He gave me one last, lingering look before turning and leaving the library, the heavy oak door closing with a finality that echoed the slamming shut of my own heart. The air hung heavy with unspoken emotions, the weight of my decision pressing down on me.
My revenge, I realized with a bitter pang, tasted worse than Flobberworm milk and phonics tears on cupcakes. But in that moment, I didn't realize that in punishing him, I was condemning myself to an equally excruciating torture
Days bled into weeks, each one stretching out with the agonizing slowness of a Dementor's kiss. What I had envisioned as a sweet victory – Mattheo squirming under the weight of my indifference – felt more like a self-inflicted Cruciatus Curse.
The once-familiar halls of Hogwarts became a minefield of awkward silences and stolen glances. Every corner held the ghost of his laughter, every shadowed alcove whispered echoes of his touch. Avoiding him became a constant, exhausting dance.
In Herbology, Professor Sprout droned on about the magical properties of Bubotuber pus, but all I could focus on was the empty space beside me. It had become a glaring absence, a constant reminder of the warmth that used to be there.
Across the room, I could feel his gaze burning into me. But when I dared to steal a glance, his head would be bent diligently over his textbook, his jaw clenched tight. It was a practiced act of indifference, a mask that mirrored the one I wore.
Lunch in the Great Hall was an ordeal. I'd scan the long Slytherin table, searching for any sign of him. Relief would flood me when I wouldn't see him, only to be replaced by a hollow pang of disappointment.
One day, as I shuffled through the crowded hallway, I felt a presence looming behind me. My heart hammered a frantic tattoo against my ribs. I quickened my pace, clutching my books tighter, willing myself to disappear. But the presence remained, a silent taunt.
Finally, unable to bear the suspense any longer, I chanced a peek over my shoulder. My stomach lurched. It was him, his face a stony mask, his eyes fixed on a point far beyond me. He sidestepped me with practiced ease, not even a flicker of recognition in his gaze.
The charade was relentless. In Potions, Professor Snape's scathing remarks seemed muted compared to the deafening silence between Mattheo and me. We brewed our Draught of Peace with a silent intensity, each movement a calculated act of avoidance.
The whispers started subtly, like the rustle of leaves in a slight breeze. "Did you see them? Not a single word!" one student would murmur to another. Soon, the whispers morphed into open stares, the entire school buzzing with the unspoken tension between us.
It was as if by avoiding each other, we'd created a spectacle far more dramatic than any confrontation could have been. The unspoken longing, the raw emotions hanging heavy in the air – it was a story more captivating than any Quidditch match.
What hurt the most ? I couldn't escape the feeling that everyone else was living their lives, while mine was trapped in this agonizing purgatory of unspoken emotions and a love I couldn't embrace or deny.
The silence between us was deafening, a reminder of the bond we'd shattered. My carefully crafted revenge felt hollow, a Pyrrhic victory that left me as desolate as the empty space beside him. The ache in my chest had little to do with anger and everything to do with a longing I couldn't name.
Then came the worst part. It wasn't just the awkward silences or stolen glances at him interacting with others. It was the way the girls around me perked up, their smiles a bit too wide, their laughter a bit too forced. They saw the distance between Mattheo and me, the void where his presence used to be, as an open invitation.
Professor Sprout's well-meaning attempt to pair us up for a project backfired spectacularly.
Mattheo, his usual smirk replaced by a practiced indifference, meticulously tended to his Venomous Tentacula while I wrestled with a particularly stubborn Flobberworm. The silence between us was thicker than the sap dripping from the Bubotuber pus. We moved with a practiced efficiency, avoiding eye contact, our movements a painful ballet of unspoken hurt and when he was finally done with his part he left without even glancing at me .
Across the room, laughter erupted. A pretty brunette girl, Astoria Greengrass, leaned in conspiratorially towards Mattheo, a giggle escaping her lips. He threw his head back, a genuine smile lighting up his face, a sight that sent a spike of jealousy through me.
My Flobberworm wriggled free, sending a spray of dirt flying. Professor Sprout's raised eyebrow and stern lecture were a welcome distraction from the scene unfolding across the room. The warmth in Mattheo's laughter, the ease with which he interacted with Astoria, was a sharp contrast to the icy distance he maintained with me.
The worst part, however, wasn't the girls themselves. It was the way they looked at me – a mixture of pity and smug satisfaction. Their gazes seemed to say, "See? Now you see what you had and threw away."
Another day, another ordeal. During Charms, a boy from Ravenclaw, Michael Corner, sidled up to me, his voice a steady stream of nervous chatter. He droned on about the upcoming Quidditch match, his words blurring into background noise.
Across the room, I stole a glance at Matteo. He sat slumped in his chair, his gaze fixed on the textbook in front of him. But a flicker of movement caught my eye. His jaw clenched slightly, knuckles turning white as he gripped the book. He didn't turn towards me, didn't acknowledge Michael's presence. It was as if I, and the boy beside me, simply ceased to exist.
A pang of something akin to disappointment shot through me. Was this truly what he’s doing ? erasing me from his memory? The silence between us, once deafening, now felt suffocating. I craved a reaction, anything to break the monotony of our charade.
Days bled into weeks, each one a monotonous echo of the last. Lunch in the Great Hall was an exercise in self-torture. I sat with some girls from my class , their cheery chatter a stark contrast to the turmoil within me.
Across the room, Mattheo sat with a group of Slytherins, his usual arrogance back in place. He spoke in hushed tones, his eyes scanning the room. Did they land on me? I couldn't tell, wouldn't allow myself to hope.
Suddenly, Draco Malfoy sauntered over, a smirk playing on his lips. He leaned in, whispering something in Mattheo's ear, his gaze flickering towards me. A flicker of something – anger, maybe? – crossed Mattheo's face before he schooled his features back into indifference.
Draco's smirk widened, punctuated by a loud laugh. The sound grated on my nerves, a confirmation that he had successfully moved on, leaving me drowning in the wreckage of our broken connection.
The once vibrant halls of Hogwarts had become a constant reminder of what I'd lost. The whispers, the pointed looks, the morbid fascination with our unspoken war – it all felt suffocating. The silence between us, once deafening, now resonated with a profound emptiness.
In my quest for revenge, I had succeeded in destroying not just him, but a part of myself. And as I stared across the Great Hall, the bitter truth settled in – the only thing more unbearable than his betrayal was his indifference.
The ache in my core pulsed with every stolen glance at Matteo. A single, accidental lock of eyes during Charms was all it took to reignite the inferno I'd thought I'd extinguished. The familiar heat bloomed in my cheeks, spreading downwards, a stark reminder of the raw, physical connection we shared.
Driven by an insatiable hunger, I succumbed to temptation, seeking solace in the darkness of night. With trembling hands, I slipped my fingers inside my pants, yearning for the touch of his hands upon my skin. But no matter how fervently I imagined his touch, it was futile, a poor substitute for the real thing.
His absence loomed large in my mind, a constant reminder of the void he had left behind. Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes as I grappled with the overwhelming sense of loss, longing for the warmth of his embrace.
In the silence of my room, I cried myself to sleep, the weight of my unfulfilled desires weighing heavily upon me. No matter how hard I tried to bury them, the flames of passion continued to burn, fueled by the memory of his touch.
The next day crawled by, each tick of the clock echoing the heavy weight in my chest. Just as I contemplated escaping to the familiar comfort of the Slytherin common room, a familiar figure emerged from the shadows of the deserted hallway – Enzo.
His usual carefree air was replaced by a somberness that mirrored my own. "Y/N," he started hesitantly, his voice uncharacteristically unsure.
"Enzo, hi," I greeted nervously. "Are you... are you alright?"
He paused, his gaze flickering with concern. "I need to talk to you," he finally said, his voice low.
"Sure," I whispered, a nervous smile tugging at my lips.
He gestured towards an empty classroom beside us. We entered, the silence suddenly thick and heavy.
"It's about Mattheo," he began, his voice dropping even lower.
My heart hammered against my ribs,
"What about him?" I managed, my voice barely above a whisper.
Enzo took a deep breath, his gaze flickering with an emotion I couldn't decipher. "He — He has a really dangerous disease Y/N," he blurted out, the words heavy in the quiet hallway.
Enzo's words hit me like a Stunning Spell. My breath caught in my throat, the air suddenly thick with a suffocating weight. Disease? Mattheo? It couldn't be true. The anger that had simmered within me for weeks flickered, threatened by a spark of something else – a flicker of fear, of a terrible, dawning realization.
"Disease?" I choked out, the word barely a whisper.
Enzo nodded. "Serious. He doesn't know how long..." He trailed off, his voice thick with emotion. "But he's getting worse every day. Refused to tell you himself, stubborn git."
Tears welled up in my eyes, blurring Enzo's concerned face. "He never said anything," I choked out, my voice thick with emotion. "He wouldn't even look at me."
Enzo sighed, a deep rumble that spoke of a burden shared. "He's stubborn, that one. Especially when it comes to protecting you “
"But how could he not tell me?" I whispered, my voice barely audible over the pounding of my heart.
"He loves you, Y/N," Enzo said, his voice firm. "More than anything, I swear. I've never seen him care about anyone the way he cares about you. I knew what he did was unforgivable , but his feelings for you… they're real."
A sob escaped my lips, tears blurring my vision. The image of Mattheo, his usual arrogance replaced by vulnerability, echoed in my mind.
"you deserves to know," Enzo said, his gaze unwavering. "Even if you can't forgive him, even if you hate him… you deserve to know the truth."
Tears streamed down my face, a mixture of grief and confusion.
"He'll do anything for you, you know," Enzo continued. "Hiding this… it's killing him. More than the illness itself."
Another sob escaped my lips. The anger, the carefully constructed walls of indifference – it all seemed so petty now, dwarfed by the weight of his illness. All this time, I'd been punishing him, punishing myself, while he…
Panic clawed at my throat. "How bad is it? How long…?" My voice wouldn't form the question.
Enzo shook his head, a grim expression on his face. "I don't know all the details, Y/N. He wouldn't tell me much. But he's getting worse, and by the way there's no cure."
The weight of the revelation pressed down on me. The silent war we waged, the stolen glances filled with unspoken emotions – it all seemed so meaningless now. All I wanted to do was see him, to hold him, to tell him… what?
Looking at Enzo, tears streaming down my face, I whispered, " Where is he?"
Enzo hesitated, then pointed towards the forest . "He's usually there, you know where , trying to clear his head."
"Thank you, Enzo," I croaked, my voice thick with emotion. "For telling me."
Enzo nodded, a hint of a sad smile gracing his lips. "Just… don't let pride get in the way, alright? Talk to him. Figure things out he needs you now more than ever. ." He squeezed my shoulder before turning and leaving me alone with the weight of this revelation.
Enzo's words echoed in my head, each syllable a hammer blow against my chest. Disease. Limited time. The anger, the carefully constructed walls of resentment, all crumbled under the weight of this revelation. Tears blurred my visionI raced through the castle corridors, legs burning, a primal urge driving me forward.
I didn't care about the stares, the confused whispers that followed. I only cared about getting to him , My heart hammered a frantic rhythm against my ribs, each beat punctuated by a sob that tore through me.
The familiar path to the Forbidden Forest became a blur. Thorns ripped at my robes, branches snagged at my hair, but I didn't feel them. All I felt was a desperate need to reach him, to hold him.
A sharp sting on my knee brought me back to the present. I looked down to see a crimson stain blooming on my robes, a tear in the fabric revealing a scraped knee. But the pain was a mere whisper compared to the agony twisting in my gut.
The memory of his secret place, fueled my desperate run. It was a sanctuary he'd revealed only to me, Now, it was my beacon, the only place I could imagine him seeking solace in his time of despair.
Bursting through the familiar curtain of trees, I skidded to a halt, chest heaving, tears streaming down my face. My vision swam, but I could just make out the clearing, bathed in the soft glow of the setting sun.
Reaching the clearing, I pushed aside the concealing ivy with trembling hands. The familiar wooden door stood before me, mockingly still. I flung it open, ignoring the groan of rusted hinges.
Pushing the pain aside, I scrambled to my feet, ignoring the blood seeping through my torn robes. The hidden entrance, disguised by a tangle of ivy, materialized before my tear-filled eyes.
With trembling hands, I cleared the vines, pushing through the narrow opening. The familiar scent of earth and damp stone greeted me, a small comfort in the storm raging inside.
Inside the dimly lit chamber, my breath caught in my throat, with my ragged sobs as I stumbled towards the bed. Mattheo peacefully sleeping on , his chest rising and falling with shallow breaths.
"Mattheo!" I shrieked, the name a desperate plea that tore through the silence. "Mattheo, wake up!"
He stirred at the sound, his brow furrowing in confusion. His eyes fluttered open, blinking away the remnants of sleep. his eyes widening in shock before softening at the sight of my tear-streaked face,the raw panic radiating from my very being.
"Y/N?" he rasped, his voice weak. "What's wrong? What happened?"
Before he could finish his question, I was on him, collapsing onto the bed in a heap of sobs and frantic whispers
His arms wrapped around me. held me close, his voice a soothing murmur against my ear. " it's okay, love," he whispered, his voice thick with concern. "What happened? Are you hurt? Tell me what's wrong, baby did someone…" he trailed off, his voice hardening with a possessive anger."
The sound of those endearment words, so unexpected after weeks of cold silence, sent a fresh wave of tears cascading down my cheeks.
"Don't cry, love," he murmured, his voice thick with concern. "Tell me what's wrong. Did someone hurt you? Did someone say something?"
His gaze dropped to the injury, "Oh Merlin," he breathed, his voice laced with self-reproach. "How did you… why did you come here like this?"
My voice, when it finally came, was a choked sob. Words tumbled out in a rush, a jumbled mess of emotions. "Enzo… he told me… you're sick… I… I thought…"
Mattheo's brow furrowed further. He reached out, his touch tentative on my arm. "Slow down, love," he murmured. "What did Enzo tell you?"
I took a shaky breath, wiping at the tears blurring my vision. "That you… that you had a dangerous illness… that you didn't have long."
A bewildered frown creased his forehead. illness? What illness ? “
"Don't lie to me, Mattheo," I pleaded, tears welling up again. "He said you were… you were dying."
"Enzo that fucker ," he muttered, shaking his head . "He must have been trying to get us to talk." He let out a dry, humorless laugh, the sound sending a fresh wave of pain through me. "He always did have a dramatic flair."
My entire body tensed. Was he lying? My gaze darted across his face, searching for any sign of truth.
"But Enzo wouldn't lie about something like that," I protested, my voice shaky. "He was so worried. He said you loved me, that I deserved to know."
His arms tightened around me "Well, Enzo got one thing right then,"
"So there's no illness?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.
Mattheo cupped my face in his hand, wiping away a stray tear with his thumb. "No illness, love. Just a heartbroken fool who did something incredibly stupid." His gaze softened, searching mine. "You believed him?"
Shame burned in my throat. "I… I was scared,"
Mattheo's expression softened. "Scared about me?" he asked gently, his thumb brushing against my cheek in a soothing gesture.
I nodded, unable to meet his gaze as tears threatened to spill over once more.
“you don't have to be scared anymore. I'm here, and I'm not going anywhere."A wave of relief washed over me as I melted into his embrace, feeling the weight of my fears slowly lift from my shoulders. In his arms
his playful smile fading, replaced by a sharp concern that etched lines on his face his gaze flicked down to my knee
"Oh Merlin," he muttered, kneeling down to examine the wound. A crimson stain was blossoming on my knee .
"It looks worse than it is, probably," I mumbled, trying to sound nonchalant. But the wince I couldn't quite suppress betrayed me.. He knelt beside me, his touch sending a familiar spark through my body despite the circumstances.
"You shouldn't have run like that," he said gently, his voice laced with a hint of disapproval. "Look at you, all bruised and bleeding."
My cheeks burned, not just from the sting of the wounds, but from the unexpected tenderness in his voice. "I… I just needed to see you," I mumbled, looking away.
A soft chuckle escaped his lips. "Well, you certainly made an entrance," he said, a hint of amusement returning to his eyes. But his smile faltered as he focused on my wounds .
"Here, let me get you cleaned up," he said, his voice firm.
He rummaged through the surprisingly well-stocked medical kit hidden in the corner, pulling out vials of glistening potions and bandages. The air filled with the pungent scent of dittany as he carefully cleaned my wounds, his touch surprisingly gentle.
Each swipe of the cloth sent a jolt through me, a confusing mix of pain and a strange kind of pleasure. Shame battled with a newfound hope as I met his gaze. The anger and hurt that had clouded his eyes for weeks were gone, replaced by a warmth that sent a flutter to my stomach.
"There," he said finally, tying the last bandage with a practiced ease. "That should hold for now."
As he pulled back, our eyes met, and for a fleeting moment, the air crackled with unspoken words. The silence between us, once heavy with tension, thrummed with a new energy.
"I'm so sorry for barging in like that," I mumbled, looking away.
"Hey," he said, his voice firm but kind. " You scared the daylights out of me, but I'm glad you're here."
"Do__Do you still care about me?" I blurted out, the question tumbling out before I could stop it. Tears welled up again, threatening to spill over.
Mattheo's eyes widened for a moment, then a flicker of something warm crossed them.
"Like... are you kidding me?" he said, a soft chuckle escaping his lips. "Of course I do."
My heart hammered in my chest. "But I thought..." I trailed off, unsure how to voice the tangled mess of emotions that had been churning inside me.
"You thought I moved on?" he finished, his voice gentle.
I nodded, ashamed of the doubt that had festered for so long.
"I was giving you space," he explained, "the space you said you needed. But believe me, it was killing me."
"Merlin's beard, Y/N. Every time some bloke even glanced your way, I felt like I might hex the lot of them."
My cheeks burned. As I laughed at what he said
his gaze lingering on my lips. "I swear I didn't tell anyone about what you told me that night," he murmured, his voice low and sincere. "I had nothing to do with the play. ,I didn't know they were going to do that I only didn't want you to go because it was connected to the dare and I thought if we just stayed away, it would all blow over."
"I know," I whispered, my voice thick with emotion. "Charlie told me."
his messy hair softened by the dim light, his jaw shadowed with a hint of stubble, but his gaze held that same familiar warmth that had always sent butterflies fluttering in my stomach.
He looked so good, so heartbreakingly handsome, a possessiveness rising in my chest. He was mine
I couldn't hold back any longer. With a soft whimper, I closed the gap between us, my lips meeting his in a kiss that was both desperate and tender.
His lips were warm and soft, molding perfectly to mine.The taste of him – a mixture of mint and something uniquely Mattheo – flooded my senses, sending a jolt through my body.
Mattheo responded instantly, pulling me closer until I was practically settling me on his lap , melting into him . His hands slid down my back.
He held me tightly, as if afraid I might disappear, and the urgency in his kiss mirrored my own. It was a hungry kiss, filled with a raw passion that had been simmering beneath the surface for too long.
We explored each other's mouths with a newfound intensity, the taste of him igniting a fire deep within me. Our tongues danced together, a silent conversation filled with unspoken promises and a desperate need for more.
He pulled back slightly, his breath ragged. His eyes, shimmering with desire, held me captive.My own hands tangled in his hair . "I missed you," he rasped, his voice thick with emotion.
The words echoed my own feelings. God, how I'd missed him.
He kissed me again the kiss deepened, a desperate plea for connection after weeks of longing. My hips instinctively swayed against him, seeking a friction that had been absent for too long. The ache in my core, a dull throb that had plagued me, seemed to lessen with each press of my body against his,It felt like a dam had broken, a release after a drought.
But then I felt it – a firmness pressing against my core, a sensation that sent a jolt through my system. It overwhelmed my senses, momentarily drowning the delicious haze of the kiss. As my body brushed against it again, a guttural moan escaped Mattheo's lips. Reality slammed back, and I tore myself away from the kiss, eyes wide with a sudden realization.
"I'm so sorry," I stammered, the words tumbling out in a jumbled mess. "I didn't realize…" my cheeks a fiery red. "Does it hurt you too?"
"Too?"He tilted his head, a playful smile on his face ."What do you mean, baby? What's hurting you?
"I-I just..." I stammered, my cheeks burning like embers. "I don't know... It's just..." Words failed me completely.
His playful smirk deepened the pit in my stomach. "Yeah?" he prompted, his confusion tinged with amusement.
"That would be…" My voice dropped to a barely audible murmur. "That ache, and it won't just go away, no matter what I try."
He chuckled, the sound warm and comforting. "Oh, my love. That sounds awful." He brushed a fallen strand of hair away from my face, his touch sending a fresh wave of heat through me.
"Tell me, love," he whispered, his voice husky with desire, "where does this ache come from?"
before I could confess, a new sensation stole the air from my lungs. His lips, warm and insistent, found my neck again
"Where was that ache coming from, love?" he repeated, his lips soft against my skin, eliciting a moan of pleasure.
"Tell me," he urged, cupping my breast while peppering kisses all over my neck. "I'm still waiting for you to answer me, my love," his voice dominant, commanding my attention.
"It was... down there," I admitted. "It won't go away, no matter what I try," I continued, feeling exposed.
His lips found a sensitive spot behind my ear, sending a jolt of pleasure through me. "And what have you tried to do to make it go away?" he murmured, his voice turning dark .
"I... I tried to do what you did to me before, but I couldn't," I whispered, tears welling in my eyes, their origin unclear. He kissed them away, his lips tender against my skin.
"You tried to touch yourself? Tried to recreate what I did to you? And who were you thinking about while doing it, darling?" he asked, his voice thick with desire.
"You... it was you. I also imagined it was you, but it didn't work," I confessed.
"You're going to be the death of me," he murmured, kissing away the last of my tears. Then he continued, his voice low and seductive, "We need to do something about that then , Would you let me kiss it better?"
Unable to tear my gaze from his, I simply nodded, my voice stolen by the intensity in his eyes.
"Words, love,I need to hear your voice "
"Yes, please," I whispered, the words barely escaping my lips.
The kiss that followed was possessive, a searing claim . When he finally pulled away, his eyes burned with a dark intensity.
"Good," he breathed, his voice thick with desire . "Because I'm going to worship every inch of that beautiful body. Every. Inch. Of. You."
With a tenderness that contrasted with the raw desire in his voice, he gently laid me down on the bed. The plush fabric felt cool against my flushed skin as anticipation coiled in the pit of my stomach.
His fingers brushed against my collarbone as he meticulously unfastened each button of my shirt. His gaze never left mine, the intensity in his eyes sending shivers down my spine.
"That Ravenclaw boy, Michael Corner, what was he telling you?"
His question jolted me back to reality. I blinked, momentarily confused, then recalled, "Oh, right, Michael. He was talking about the next Quidditch match. I didn't know you noticed."
A wry smile played on his lips. "Oh, believe me, I did," he said, his voice a low rumble. "Every. Single. Second. Especially when his eyes kept flickering back over here."
His gaze dropped pointedly to the space where my shirt now hung open, and a blush crept up my neck.
"Believe me," he whispered,"my eyes were on you the entire time."
Heat pulsed through me as his kisses trailed down my neck, each one a spark igniting a fire within. I squeezed my eyes shut, a strangled moan caught in my throat. Nervous flutters danced in my stomach, a foreign sensation that both scared and thrilled me.
A gasp ripped through me as Matteo's cool fingers dipped beneath my skirt. My skin, flushed from his heated kisses, sent a jolt of contrasting sensation against his touch. It was a delicious shock, leaving me breathless.
"Hey," he murmured, voice laced with concern as he immediately stopped, his brows furrowing. "Is this okay? Do you want me to…"
He began to retract his hand, but before he could fully pull away, I reached out, my fingers blindly grasping at his . "No," I mumbled, the word barely a whisper. My voice betrayed me, shaky and breathless. Why did this simple touch feel so earth-shattering?
"No," I repeated, a little firmer this time, gathering my courage. "I mean, yes. This is… I want that." The last few words tumbled out in a rush, so quiet I wasn't sure if he even heard them.
I squeezed my eyes shut, unable to meet his gaze. I could almost picture the smirk tugging at the corner of his lips
A blush crept up my neck as his voice rumbled in my ear, a promise laced with concern. "If you feel uncomfortable at any point, love, just say the word. I want this to be good for you." His touch lingered on my bare skin, a burning ember against my suddenly chilled flesh.
The sincerity in his voice calmed the knot of nerves twisting in my stomach. I knew he wouldn't push me further than I was ready. Taking a deep breath, I met his gaze, my own desire reflected back in his warm brown eyes.
"I trust you," I whispered, the words a shaky promise.
A slow smile spread across his face, lighting up his features like the sunrise.
The brush of his fingers against the fabric of my bra sent a jolt through me. He paused, his eyes searching mine once more, a silent question hanging in the air.
This time, my response was a small, barely-there nod. It was a hesitant surrender, an invitation whispered on a breath. A satisfied glint sparked in his eyes before he continued his exploration, his touch sending shivers dancing across my skin.
Matteo's fingers grazed the clasp of my bra. The touch was a spark that ignited a fire within me, a rush of adrenaline coursing through my veins. Instinctively, my fingers tangled themselves in his hair . He dipped his head, his lips trailing a warm path down my neck before finding a sensitive spot on my chest. A soft moan escaped my lips as he teased the nipple
My back arched involuntarily, a silent plea for him to continue. I tugged on his hair, not wanting him to stop, not wanting this exquisite feeling to end.
"Does that feel good, love?" he murmured against my skin, his voice husky with desire.
"Yes," I breathed, the word barely a whisper lost in the symphony of sensations swirling around me. My eyelids fluttered shut, the world dissolving into a haze of touch and taste, the touch of his skin and the warmth of his breath. Everything else faded away .
Moving to my other nipple giving it the same attention .My fingers instinctively tangled themselves in his hair.
A wave of heat washed over me as Matteo's hand brushed against the hem of my skirt soft sigh escaped his lips as his gaze drifted to my soaked panties .
“I’ve wanted this for such a long time, you have no idea,” he murmured, sucking on the skin of my inner thighs as my hands fisted the bedsheets.
“Please,” I begged, feeling no embarrassment about how desperate I sounded. As soon as he began to suck on my clit, all my worries began to vanish. Profane words spilled from my mouth as Matteo took his sweet time with me.
"Merlin, oh, I—" It seemed as if I couldn’t control my mouth any longer; my instincts took over. I knew that I was ready; I wanted him, all of him.
“Relax, baby, I’ve got you,” his eyes were pitch black by now pupils were dilated, a dark reflection of the desire .
A loving smile playing on his lips as he slowly inserted a finger into me. It still felt strange to me, a sensation I hadn't quite grown accustomed to yet. I was tight around his fingers, but my moans urged him on. Adding another finger, he alternated between sucking, licking, then repeating, drawing me closer to my release,a mind-blowing orgasm that I’d never forget.
My stomach clenched, a tight knot forming as a foreign heat bloomed in my core. Blood roared in my ears, drowning out everything except his voice and the frantic pounding of my heart. My head arched back against the pillow, muscles involuntarily tightening around his fingers.
" good girl , Come for me, love,"
A guttural moan escaped my lips as pleasure surged through me, a wave cresting and crashing in a series of shivers. "Mattheo," I breathed, his name a desperate prayer repeated again and again.
"That’s fucking right, love ." he murmured, his voice thick with satisfaction. "Say my name,no one else says my name quite like you do. It's a sound I desperately missed."
His words fueled the fire within me, and I surrendered to the overwhelming pleasure, clinging to him as the wave crested and receded. Exhausted but exhilarated, I opened my eyes to find his gaze locked on mine.
A slow smile tugged at his lips as he brushed a kiss across my flushed cheek. The touch ignited a spark within me, and I reached out, my fingers curling around his hand. With a newfound boldness, I drew him closer, our lips meeting in a kiss that spoke volumes.
"I want you Mattheo all of you ," I whispered against his lips, with newfound confidence.
His gaze held mine for a beat, searching for any flicker of hesitation. He saw none, only a reflection of the desire burning brightly in his own eyes.
"Are you absolutely sure, love?" he asked.
"Absolutely sure just be gentle ," I breathed against his lips, the words leaving no room for doubt.
He undressed himself slowly, his eyes never leaving my form. I couldn't help but admire the contours of his body as he revealed each inch of his skin. My fingers tingled with anticipation, and I reached out to trace the lines of his sculpted six-pack, feeling the firmness beneath my touch. His muscles rippled under my fingertips.
My apprehension grew as I looked at his length, my mind swirling with doubts and desires. " will it hurt?" I asked, my voice betraying my fear and curiosity. I couldn't shake the nagging thought of how he would fit inside me.
"I won’t do anything to hurt you. I'll be gentle with you, okay?"he reassured me, his words soothing my nerves.
 “Is that gonna fit?” 
 
 “I’ll make it fit.” He kissed a trail down the valley between my breasts, his lips igniting a flame against my skin. Each touch sent a surge of heat through me, anticipation building with every passing second.
He ran the tip of his hardness through my wet folds agonizingly slowly, each touch sending shivers of pleasure coursing through my body. I could feel myself throbbing with need as he coated himself with my slickness, the sensation almost overwhelming. Gasping for breath, I reached out for his free hand holding it , needing the connection to ground me amidst the whirlwind of sensation.
“Breathe for me, baby,” Matteo murmured, his voice laced with tenderness and desire. "Keep your eyes on me. Let me see those pretty eyes."
A sharp hiss escaped my lips as he slowly began to push into me, each inch stretching my muscles as they accommodated his girth. Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes, a combination of pleasure and slight discomfort mingling together. , his lips pressing tender kisses against my cheeks wiped away the tears .
As he started to roll his hips, a slow and steady rhythm, the initial discomfort gave way to a rush of pleasure that flooded my senses. Each movement sent waves of sensation coursing through me, building the intensity of our connection with every thrust.
It didn't take me long to get used to the new sensation; my cries turned into moans, loud moans, my nails clawed at his back as he picked up his speed. "You're doing so well my love '." He kept on praising me as I clenched around his length.
“Good girl," . His thumb continued to circle my pulsing clit, sending electric shocks of pleasure through me. Mattheo buried his head in my neck, inhaling my scent as he listened to the rhythm of our bodies moving together. "God, you feel so good, like a fucking dream. I'll never get enough of you," he whispered against my skin, his words sending shivers down my spine.
As I looked down, the sight of our bodies connected together made me moan even louder. I couldn't help but notice the drips of blood on his dick as he moved, a stark reminder of our primal connection.
"I love you, Mattheo. I'm sorry it took me so long to say it, but I do love you more than life itself," I breathed out between heavy moans, my confession hanging in the air like a promise. Wrapping my legs around his waist, I pulled him closer, desperate for more of him.
"Fucking hell, love, are you trying to kill me?" he sucked on my neck, pushing me over the edge for the second time that evening. The feeling exploded in my belly, my moans urging him closer to his own release. Still, I continued to clench around him, my body writhing with pleasure as he rode me through the bliss. His cock twitched inside of me, warmth spreading through me as he released himself inside of me.
I was on birth control pills my mother had made me take them since I turned eighteen, but in that moment, nothing else mattered but the overwhelming sensation of love and desire coursing through my veins.
“ Holy shit,Never thought I could love someone this much. What are you doing to me ?“
"Not even Astoria Greengrass?" I teased, unable to resist bringing that up .
"Don’t you dare bring another woman’s name up while my dick is still inside you," he retorted, his tone playful yet possessive.
I chuckled, cupping his face to kiss him passionately. His response was equally fervent, but a moan escaped my lips as I felt him getting out off me .
Surveying the aftermath, I couldn't help but feel a mix of pleasure and soreness. "I think I've lost my ability to walk," I joked.
"yeah ?" he teased back, laying down beside me. His fingers gently traced patterns in my hair as he leaned in to kiss my forehead with tenderness.
"I will never, ever do anything to hurt you again," he vowed softly.
Smiling softly, I whispered, "I know," before meeting his lips in another kiss.
He broke the kiss with a chuckle" I owes Enzo big time, huh? Best brother of the year?"
I laughed, feeling the exhaustion starting to set in.
"still ,but he'll pay for frightening you like that. Now, how about I take care of you first ?" I nodded, too tired to speak.
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅
BONUS SCENE.
We re-entered the castle, his hand never leaving mine. It wasn't a casual hold, but a tight clasp, his fingers weaving between mine like a declaration
Suddenly, Matteo stopped short, his eyes widening in surprise. Following his gaze, I spotted a familiar tall figure with kind eyes and a warm smile – Uncle Ben! My jaw dropped. What was he doing here?
“Look who it is! Isn't that my favorite niece?"
"Uncle Ben? What are you doing here?"
"Ah," he chuckled, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, "Professor Flitwick requested a little assistance with a... well, let's just say a certain magical artifact has gotten a bit out of sorts. Seems my expertise is needed to tame the beast, Thought I'd surprise you , and pop in to see how things are going at Hogwarts"
My jaw nearly hit the floor,how things are going at Hogwarts ? Well uncle…
“ this young man was keeping my company , Enzo, wasn't it?", his voice laced with amusement as he gestured towards Enzo.
"The one and only," Enzo confirmed with a wide grin, throwing in another wink for good measure.
My stomach lurched as Uncle Ben's gaze darted down to our hands, still subtly intertwined. The air crackled with sudden tension , his eyes darted from me to Mattheo, lingering a beat too long on the hand that still rested possessively on mine.
"Riddle Jr., isn't he?" he boomed, his jovial demeanor replaced with a mixture of surprise and something akin to panic.
My mind raced, desperately searching for an explanation. "Uncle Ben, it's —" I began, only to be cut off by his frantic question.
" you're not pregnant, right?" he blurted, his voice dropping to a panicked whisper.
My jaw dropped. Enzo choked on a laugh, shooting a helpless glance towards Mattheo, who seemed to be suppressing a smirk.
“you're holding hands! "
Enzo clapped Uncle Ben on the shoulder, his voice booming with forced cheer. "Come on, Ben! Let's not jump to conclusions. They're just kids, figuring things out."
My uncle's expression remained skeptical. He shifted his gaze to Matteo, a guarded look replacing the initial shock. " Riddle Jr. here," he began, his voice tight. "What exactly are your intentions towards y/n ?"
Matteo met Uncle Ben's gaze head-on, his posture unwavering. "Sir," he said, his voice low and sincere. "I deeply regret the way things ended between y/n and me. I know I hurt her, and for that, I'll never forgive myself. However, I care for her a great deal, and I would never do anything to intentionally cause her pain again." His eyes flickered to me briefly, a flicker of something warm passing between us. "All I want is a chance to prove myself worthy of her trust."
"Uncle Ben, I trust Mattheo. We'll take things slow, and I promise to be careful."
"Wow, you two look positively radiant. Blindingly so, actually. Sunglasses anyone?”enzo said wrapping his hands around my uncle shoulders.
Our synchronized eye rolls at his comment were enough to power the entire castle for a week. He held his hands up defensively, a playful grin plastered across his face while murmuring, "I'm still your brother, don't kill me," to Mattheo.
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅
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multific · 4 months
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Love Potion
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Mattheo Riddle x Reader
Summary: Mattheo always looked at you in a certain way.
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His eyes always followed your every move.
You noticed it very early on just how much attention he was paying to you.
His eyes followed you everywhere.
No matter the place, time or occasion.
Let it be class or breakfast or lunch or dinner.
He always had an eye on you.
And you actually didn’t mind.
Mattheo is a very handsome guy. Even if everyone and even your instincts warned you about him, there was still something.
Something which kept you interested.
You felt a pull towards him.
A pull you never acted on.
So, it was mostly longing looks exchanged between you two, nothing more. 
One evening, you were having dinner with your friends.
Hermione talked about Ron and how stupid he was. Then you grabbed a bonbon and popped it into your mouth.
“Y/N NO!” you heard someone say but it was too late.
Amortentia.
Or as they called it, love potion. 
The entire room smelled like him. Amortentia tends to smell like the person you are in love with, you didn’t even realise. 
You were blind.
The room smelled like smoke, honey and wood.
You wanted to see him, kiss him.
“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean for you to eat it!” said one of the Hufflepuffs. “I was meant to prank my roommate!” 
While everyone was talking, you were quick to run off into the backyard of the school.
You had a pretty good idea of where to find Mattheo.
And surely enough, you found him by the trees smoking.
“RIDDLE!” you yelled, making him flinch and almost drop his cigarette.
“Y/N?”
“Kiss me! RIGHT NOW!”
“Are you drunk?”
“Just in love, come on.” you ran over to him, almost making him trip as you came in contact with him.
He grabbed you to save you from falling and this is when he noticed your eyes.
“Were you given something?”
“All I feel is looooove.” you said and smiled.
Mattheo noticed Hermione from the corner of his eyes.
“What happened to her?”
“A Hufflepuff gave her Amortentia.” she explained as she grabbed your hand and began to pull you back.
“Love potion? Why?”
“Forget this happened Riddle!” Hermione yelled back at Mattheo as you waved to him.
“Byeeee Matty!” he lifted his hand and gave you a small wave back. He was utterly confused.
“I CAN’T BELIEVE I DID THAT!” you yelled into your pillow once the potion wore off. “Why didn’t you stop me?!”
“I tried!” said Hermione.
“I want to die. I’m so embarrassed. At LEAST he was alone! Imagine if I did that in front of the school!”
“Well… on our way back to our rooms… you kinda… just a tiny little bit yelled in front of everyone passing by that Mattheo is yours and you will fight for your true love… kinda.”
“Oh. My. Fucking. God. No.” you shook your head but she nodded. “NO. PLEASE NO.”
“And… maybe… kinda… The Slytherins were also there? Maybe?”
“I am jumping out the window,” you said as you stood up and walked towards the window, Hermione grabbed your hand and pulled you back. “I want to die, please. This is so embarrassing!”
“The thing is that almost everyone like cheered for you. Malfoy even wanted to give you a high-five for being so brave. I thought he was being sarcastic, but he was for real. Then Theodore came up and said ‘Go get him, Tiger’ They were all cheering you on.”
“So, I’m the laughingstock of the entire school. Lovely.”
You fell back into your bed, face into the pillow. How will you face everyone tomorrow?
 “Mattheo Riddle! The lucky guy!” said Theodore as he hit Mattheo in the shoulder. “Having one of the prettiest girl scream and declare her love for you. Lucky you!” Mattheo rolled his eyes at his friend.
Although he couldn’t sleep one bit for the entire night, his mind was way too busy.
“It was only a prank.” Mattheo said. It was the only logical explanation.
“Nope. You know Angie? The Hufflepuff girl? Nevermind… Apparently, she made some chocolate for her friend as a prank, but Y/N ended up eating one and it had Amortentia in it.” Mattheo looked at Theodore, trying to see if his friend was lying but he wasn’t.
“And how do you know that?”
“Angie told her friends and I heard it. They didn’t realize I was standing there. But lucky you, having a girlfriend! Don’t fuck it up tho! Or I might steal her.”
“Piss off.” Theodore laughed as they both entered the class.
Mattheo’s eyes immediately locked with yours. You looked scared as you looked away. He could only imagine how you were feeling.
But he was just as confused and embarrassed.
After classes, you wanted nothing more than to run back to your room and hide from everyone.
No one said a thing. But the looks they gave you, said it all.
You just wanted to get out.
You made it to the hallways when someone behind you called your name.
It was Mattheo, your eyes widened as you quickly darted into the girl’s bathroom.
“Y/N, I just want to talk.”
“Look I’m sorry what happened okay?! Please just forget it.”
Then he opened the door and came into the bathroom as you back away and walked into the sinks. 
“This is the girl’s bathroom what are you doing?”
“I need to know if, what you said is true. Did you mean any of it or was it the potion?”
“I-I.” you wanted to lie, you wish you were a better liar. All you could do was listen to your heart hammer in your chest. 
“So it’s true. What you said is all true… you do lo-”
“OKAY now, please, I’m embarrassed enough, I do not need your rejection, Riddle. Please can you just leave me alone?” you wanted to go into a stall and lock yourself for eternity.
“I thought you hated me.” he suddenly said and you looked at him, shocked. “I was watching you and… you always avoided my looks. Okay, not always but many times.”
“I don’t know what to say.”
“Just agree to grab some butterbeer with me. That could be a start.”
“What?” you were so confused.
“I’m asking you on a date.”
“You are asking me on a date?”
“Why is that so hard to believe?” he asked as you turned your body back towards him.
“I thought you didn’t do… dates.” you sounded very nice, you worded it even more nicely.
“I don’t. But with you, I will.”
“So, what? You… like me too? After what I said and did yesterday?”
“It was very cute.”
“Cute? Which part exactly? When I yelled at you to kiss me or when I swore to kill whoever dares to go close to you?”
“Exactly.” he smirked. “I will wait for you, get ready for our date. An hour? Is that enough?”
“Okay. An hour.” he nodded and turned to leave.
You stood there, stunned when a voice behind you made you jump.
“How romantic!”
“Myrtle!”
“You have a date! Go get ready!” she yelled and you listened.
You got ready relatively quickly.
You debated not going, then you decided to give it a try and go.
Then, as you waited by the gates you were prepared for Mattheo not showing up.
Maybe this was his way of repaying you for embarrassing him?
But, he did show up. He did take you out to eat and drink and you did have a good time.
He did walk you back to your dorm and placed a small kiss on your cheek as a goodbye.
He did all that.
And if you only knew it would take a small amount of love potion for you to finally be with him, you would have eaten that piece of chocolate a long time ago. 
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Taglist: @fleursirvart @greenarrowhead @thisismysecrethappyplace @sincerelyfan @theoneanna @aestheticsandmarvel @rororo06 @castellandiangelo @destynelseclipsa @spilledinkindumpster@capsiclesdoll @puknow @alwayshave-faith @alex12948 @lxdyred @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl @anonymoussherlockandmarvelgeek @praline357 @trshngyn @avengers-r-us @violet-19999 @top1bbgloak  @manduse @jacalineiscomingforyou @mandoloriancookie @noname2246
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/YOU DO NOT HAVE PERMISSION TO TRANSLATE OR REUPLOAD ANY OF MY WORKS TO THIS OR OTHER PLATFORMS/
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Text
Oh, What an Aroma
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Word Count: 426
Requested: N/A
Y/N manages to admit to Hermione what (or who) she smelt in potions class but a certain someone else heard the confession as well
Pairing: Mattheo Riddle x Y/N
Warning: N/A
Prompt List: “You weren’t supposed to hear that.”
 A/N: This one was small but if you guys want, I can always write another part.
You were walking with Hermione through the halls to the great hall.
“I don’t know why Hermione but all I could smell was him. All I could smell was Mattheo. It’s like he took over my senses.”
“Y/N you know what that means. Maybe you should tell him.”
“No way! I can’t tell him that I smelt him. He definitely doesn’t feel the same.” You say and you hear a chuckle behind you.
Both Hermione and you turned your heads and saw Mattheo looking at pair of you.
Well shit…
“Mattheo..”
“Well I’m flattered you smelt my scent Y/N”
“Well, you weren’t supposed to hear that. And I’m sure now it’ll go to your head knowing another girl at Hogwarts has something for you.” You say while looking away from him.
Hermione starts to walk off to your seats and you watch her walk off.
“You really think that little of me, love?”
“I just know a lot of girls here have an infatuation with you.” You say with a huff.
“And that means I care about how many girls or that I gloat or I like any of them back?” Mattheo says with a half grin.
“Well, I guess I’ve never seen you with any of the girls but it doesn’t mean you don’t do anything with them. Like, you’re Mattheo Riddle for gods sake.”
“For you information hun, I haven’t done nothing with any of the girls for a while now.”
“There’s gotta be a reason for that, I’m sure of it.”
“Yeah there is.” He says while smiling wide.
“Well, what is it?”
“It might have something to do with what I smelt today in class.” He said while walking to stand next to you.
“I’ll give you a hint, I’m talking to her right now.” He whispers in your ear and walks off to the Slytherin table.
You have to stand there a minute to compose your thoughts.
“Wait.. That means. Oh. My” You say to yourself as you start to blush.
As you walk to the Gryffindor table you hear Mattheo chuckle when you walk by him. You glare at him and make it to your seat.
“Y/N why are you blushing?” Ron asked.
“Well Ron, it’s not a why it’s a who.” Hermione giggled and turned as Professor Dumbledore stepped up to talk to the great hall.
You turn around to glance Mattheo’s way and he’s already looking your way. You smile slightly and turn back around to listen to Professor Dumbledore.
Man, what is this man doing to you.
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