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pizzaapeteer · 1 month

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Just a game of chess

Another though late entry for @thatdammchickennugget's hogmarch challenge. Week 3 -using the theme Wizard's Chess. Enjoy a little play on the game with a steamy best friend Blaise fic. Got a bit carried away in my first Blaise fic, 4.7 k

Warnings: MDNI, nsfw, female reader, female orgasm, semi-public sex, thigh riding, slight degrading, dirty talk, language, little bit of brat taming, the use of sunshine as a nickname

An: Also, a big thanks to @slytherinslut0 for proof reading, as well as @jayybugg for hyping me up and just taking the time to answer all my questions ✨ pretty divider found here

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“Ooh, let's open up my mystery box. I’ve been needing a night for it!” You're already scrambling up from your spot, running towards his dorm to grab the gift buried in your bag. Blaise sighs, leaning back against the couch, pinching the bridge of his nose. Not that he didn’t love you and your antics, but you had a knack for buying random things. The outcomes often end in disaster, leaving Blaise to tidy up the mess.

The pair of you had been chatting away, keeping one another company in the dimly lit Slytherin common room. The area left unoccupied, the two of you still up at an unreasonable hour, with just the sounds of fire crackling, the whistles of wind blowing on the paned glass. It wasn’t an unusual sight to be up so late. Blaise was one of your closest friends and you spent most of your time talking his head off into the early hours.

The perplexity of how your friendship worked, often questioned by outsiders, the constant sighing that followed you as Blaise tolerated your ridiculous exultant optimism and friendliness. He was used to it by now, and even his other friends admired the way he could remain patient, having a calm composure. You two were good for each other. The combination of your bubbly energy and his serene demeanor worked together like the lulling of the lake, putting a grindylow to sleep.

He leans forward, resting his hands on his knees as you return carrying a mundane looking box. Despite thinking about the aftermath of what was to come, his curiosity peaked, watching as you sat yourself on the floor across from him. He sat in silence as you unravelled the packaging to reveal plain old Wizard's chess, a disappointed frown appearing on your face. Chuckling with his brows raised, he coughs a smirk, “Oh boy Wizards' chess, that’s damn mysterious.”

Your eyes meet his, a deep frown moulding on your face as he teased you, “Oh, come on, was I just bamboozled? Scammed!”

Your expression makes him laugh before he rolls his eyes at your reaction. Dragging the box closer for inspection, he scoots to the edge of his seat. “Seems it, Sunshine.” He gives you a soft smile, trying to lift your mood, “Let’s play, anyway. I won't go too hard on you this time.” His smile broadens cheekily, remembering the fit you threw when you lost last time.

You roll your eyes but nod in agreement, taking the game out of the box to set up. As you unpack the game, you note everything is displayed exactly like normal Wizards' chess, making your frown deepen. You try to disguise your extended disappointment, not wanting Blaise to lecture you about knowing better than buying mystery gifts.

“Let me start.” You spin the board to have the white checkerboard closest to you. Looking over at him, you watch his brows raise at your attitude, stifling a giggle, you counteract by giving him your cutest grin, adding, “Please?”

He sighs, amused but in defeat, rolling his eyes and giving you a playful nod. “Sure sunshine, take all the extra help you need.”

The game begins as usual, with white going first. You take your first course of action and then lean your arms on the coffee table, attempting to throw Blaise off with your oh-so menacing stare. Strategy was one of his strengths, and he had worked up a rather good one thanks to how often he challenged Draco at Wizard’s chess. Applied with his overall exponential intelligence made versing him an often difficult battle for you.

You, on the other hand, had always struggled to apply any sort of strategic logic towards games, finding yourself distracted or bored. Though Blaise used this to his advantage, he found it a little boring whenever he challenged you. Not to mention the fit you threw when you lost, despite not paying attention, leaving you sulking while Blaise adds another win to his belt.

But tonight, as the clock struck 2 am, determination pushed you to actually pay attention to Blaise's moves. Holding your stare, your eyes following his move, still awaiting in anticipation for the game to surprise you and reveal its true secret.

It was at the move of Blaise’s knight that your eyes widened, taking in the sight unfolding. The knight shifted to the area Blaise had commanded it to before it stood on the horse, bending down to throw its shoes off as they levitated up in the air. The miniature pair of boots spun above the knight, glowing as the figurine turned to look at you. A whirlwind of emotions hits you, primarily a contrast of amusement and shock, as you look up at Blaise, brows raised. His dark brown eyes met yours, his own veil of surprise shadowing his expression as he cocks an eyebrow at you. “Where’d you say you got this from again?” At his question, heat rises to your cheeks, the realisation hitting you hard. You should have seen it coming with who the inventors of the game were. Smiling sheepishly, “Oh the Weasley's.” The little knight crosses their arms and “hmph” looking up at you, making you blush. “Oh, right, sorry." Peering at Blaise, your tone holds uncertainty. “Guess we have to abide to keep playing.”

Blaise’s expression doesn’t change as he takes in the new information, running his tongue along the underside of his teeth pondering what to do. This was a clear opportunity to push your relationship to something more, something he’d been waiting for. A challenging smirk curves onto his face, his eyes holding a glimmer of mischief as he nods his head towards you, “Go on Sunshine. We’re not quitting now. Can’t have you being a sore loser this early on.”

The crackle of fire pops in the distance, sparks igniting as the flames roared, spreading warmth into the cold common room. Rolling your eyes at his remark, discarding your shoes, a daring awareness seeping into your mind. To continue the game would mean to cross the line of your friendship. Your turn awaits and hesitation halts you, taking in how unfazed Blaise looks, making you question if you are overthinking it all. It’s just a playful game between friends. It's not like you hadn’t seen him in his underwear before.

Directing your bishop to its next position, memories blur your mind of Blaise in his underwear, a red hue spreading across your cheeks. Though the possibility of seeing him like that again awakens something you thought you’d buried long ago. Months' worth of emotions, a surge of strong feelings, bubble up, exploding a flood of heat within you. You rearrange your sitting position in an attempt to subtly squeeze your legs together, watching as Blaise makes his counter move.

The game progresses and while your attention is immersive on Blaise’s plays, that doesn’t seem to have helped with more of your own clothes having been removed. You couldn’t help feeling like a sore loser already, the latest piece of your attire being ridden as Blaise’s queen takes your rook. Your patience and vulnerability unraveling as you sit in just your lingerie.

Your frustration grew, noting Blaise’s unbudged expression, not revealing any hints of what he was thinking. He’d always been exceptionally good at concealing his true emotions, a trait Theo and him shared.

While you had seen Blaise in his undergarments, he’d never seen you so exposed before. His jaw clenches as his eyes assimilate the curves of your body, the softness of your skin under the warmth and glow of the fire. The flush of your rosy cheeks, and the lulling of your gentle breaths making your chest rise and fall.

Feeling his blood flow down pumping agonising as his trousers tighten. He struggled to keep his mind focused on the game, his mind wandering, distracted by thoughts of you. Though he kept his composure for your sake, you were his friend, and he didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.

The snapping of your fingers breaks his attention and he clears his throat, turning his attention to study the board. His eyes are drawn to the now glowing miniature of your knight waving his little pants in the air, awaiting Blaise’s compliance. Blaise’s brows raise, a small smile appearing, feeling impressed by your sudden attack at seizing his bishop. “Atta girl, well played sunshine.”

His eyes flicker between yours, studying your behaviour towards the revelation, noting your flushed cheeks. He then stands, seeming untroubled, yanking down his trousers in a swift motion. His eyes locked on you, giving you a cheeky smile, waiting for a response as he took his initial seating position. His legs stretch out, spreading wide while his expression remains easy going, his arms crossing pondering his next step.

The exposure of his burly thighs and curves of his muscles flexing as he readjusted himself halts your delirious reaction to his praise. Ogling at them, you bite your cheek, unable to stop obscene images being created in your mind. How it would feel to place your now soaking core against the hardness of his defined muscles, grinding your sweet cunt against them. Trying to camouflage your intense heat, you lower your gaze back down to the game, trying to distract yourself from drooling over the mental image of riding on them.

You had always looked from a respectful distance, avoiding giving away any obvious feelings. But now, under his piercing gaze, you wanted nothing more than to climb up on them and use him. All ounces of your self control were being tested, your view aligning too perfectly with his crotch allowing you to detect the outline of his thick cock secured tightly in his boxers.

What little focus you had before vanished, the air becoming thicker with anticipation, his dark eyes watching you like a hawk. His face, though displayed by a guarded mask, the disguise of a cheeky gleam lay in his eyes, seeming to read every thought you formed.

The light tapping of your fingers on the table echoes in the room, your cheeks stinging from the harshness of your teeth chewing against them. breath hitching, waiting for him to progress. His queen sat parallel from yours, his next move would claim it as his. Your breath hitched at the growing defeat, either way something of yours was coming off next.

A piece of fabric that held the contents of your friendship would be stripped away, leaving you vulnerable. Blaise could sense your apprehension and hoped that feelings of excitement were laying underneath it as he made his next move. Softened eyes meet yours, his hand raising, beckoning you over, “Come here, Sunshine.”

A breath is released at his words, surprised shadowing over your face. His tone holds both comfort and power, making you rise feeling drawn by his magnetic pull. Walking over to him, slowly stopping in front of his legs, your knees brush against his.

He takes a risky move, trailing his fingertips gently up your bare thighs, softly testing for your reaction. The sigh of released tension from you satisfies him as he pats his lap, encouraging you to come closer. You didn’t think your cheeks would ever stop blushing as you followed his silent command straddling his lap.

The giddiness of actually sitting in Blaise’s lap made your heart leap, his hands caressing your face gently. His eyes lock on yours, searching for an answer, needing to know if you were truly okay with this. “You good sunshine?” His voice, low and sweet flowing, sent a blazing sensation down your body.

Your legs instinctively wiggle as your core clenches. Nodding, you bite at your lip, unsure your voice held any firmness to speak. The slight buck of your hips, rubbing the wet material of your panties against his thigh, had a lascivious grin spreading across Blaise’s face.

“I’ll take that as a yes.” Cold metal brushes across your skin, his hands trailing further down your body. “You trust me, right? You know I always take good care of you.”

Rapidly nodding, your back arches, soft movements glide across your back, his fingertips rubbing light circles. Pressing down further into his thigh, a breathless moan escapes you. He smiles again, amused, “I’m going to need some words sunshine. Before you start becoming impatient.” His hands hold your hips firmly, stalling you from grinding your cunt onto him.

“Yes, I trust you. I always do.” You peer up at him dazed with excitement now. Was this really happening? Sitting on top of your best friend’s lap, both undressed down to your underwear, the air thick with sexual tension. “Are you sure you want this B?” A feeling of apprehension washes over you at the mere thought of him changing his mind. A low honey dripping chuckle ruptures from him, and his hands squeeze your face with kindness. “You love to doubt my decisions, don’t you? I always keep my word sunshine.” Caressing your jaw softly, he leans his head closer. “I want this, I want you.”

His lips press gently against yours, capturing the quiet gasp you make. His lips, soft and luscious, move rhythmically with yours, fingers tangling, threading into your hair. Your nerves melt away completely, leaning closer and wrapping your hands around his neck.

Blaise notices your eagerness and takes the lead, slipping his tongue in, the kiss building in pleasure. Burst of passion flows, stripping away the clear unresolved tension that had been creeping between the two of you. Your breathless moans harmonise with one another as the kiss grows messier. His hands roam, exploring eagerly to uncover new wonders your body provides.

Hands grope across the surface of your ass, squeezing, kneading, as your body rolls, grinding down on his thighs, a slight moan at the feel of his muscles flexing under your core. Digging your hands into his broad shoulders, fingernail marks denting his shirt, your hips rock back and forth, riding the wave of pleasure that stimulates your clit.

“Little desperate thing, aren’t ya baby.” Your eyes widen, taken aback by his degrading words, biting your lip, struggling to contain another rising moan. Blaise grins, flexing his leg more, watching the way you mew clutching onto his shoulders. “Caught you drooling from across the table, so pathetic.” The sudden movements of his leg bouncing catch you off guard, the vibrations ricocheting, sending pressure straight to your clit. A sharp whine is ripped from you, echoing, bouncing around the hollow room, your head falling into the crook of his neck as you shamelessly rock harder.

“Atta girl, gonna fuck yourself on my thigh?” Blaise whispers small praises in your ear, his hold shifting to grab your hips, helping guide you towards your first orgasm. Desperation drips off your tongue, whines and whimpers spilling from you, his thighs continually clench repeatedly creating the much needed friction on your clit.

A dampened puddle soaks through your panties, drenching his thigh, the wetness spreading around your throbbing core, adding to the jolts of bliss applied to your clit. “Making such a mess, sweetheart, just couldn’t help yourself.”

Arching your back, throwing your head back. With the tug of your chin, your head is swiftly pulled in another direction, lips colliding, smashing hungrily into Blaise’s. His desperation to drive you over the edge fueling his energy, his tongue slipping into your mouth, hands pressing your body down harder against him.

You whine, the sensations driving you wild while you cling to him, your body rocking faster and harder, chasing the pleasure building, as your orgasm flows through you. “Gonna cum baby? I want you soakin my thigh properly.” His words hit you hard, sending a rush of heat straight to your aching core. Your muscles convulse, the intense sensation of your orgasm washing over you. Pulling away, your head tilts back as you come, squeezing your thighs around his calloused legs, riding through your high.

Blaise watches you fall apart, admiring the flushness of red adorning your cheeks, his hands tending to your hips. Swiftly his hands envelop you, lifting, peeling your soaked body off his thigh and laying you down on the couch.

The chillness of leather clings onto your body while you catch your breath, relishing in the rush of oxygen filling your chest. Glows of fire flicker upon his skin, displaying his captivating chocolate glazed chest with the undoing of each shirt button.

Your eyes rake, taking in the subtle, or possibly deliberate movement - watching the flirtatious smile ghost his lips, as his muscles flexing carnally, discarding his shirt. Blaise swipes the remaining mess splattered on his thigh, leaning down to offer his soaked fingers out for you. Captivated by his enticing form, your mouth is still gaping allowing him to persist guiding them into your mouth.

The metallic taste of yourself seeps on to your taste buds, your tongue instinctively swirling around his large digits. A whiney moan is pulled, the sound lighting Blaise’s face up, “that’s it pretty girl, cleaning up your own mess.”

He retracts his fingers, your eyes locked on one another as he wastes no time, leaning down, hovering over you to plant kisses along your collarbone. Trailing your hands up his muscular chest, squeezing, grasping every inch of him. Every moan and whimper made, etched slowly, being ingrained into his mind, the sounds he always dreamed of hearing.

His body pressed against yours, his throbbing cock nestling in between your thighs, brushing the soaked cotton of your undies, grazing your overly sensitive clit. Moans spill as you tilt your head back, elongating your neck, allowing Blaise to seize the opportunity to trail more kisses up your neck. “Fuck, so needy aren’t you, Sunshine?”

Migrating his hands, he trails them up your body, pulling at the fabric blocking your tits. Groping at your delicate bust, the soft flesh buried by the depths of his hands, illustrating the extensive size of them. Working skillfully, he unclips the garment, exposing your delicious bust, his pupils dilating, taking in the enticing sight. Lust glazes over his eyes, his hands cupping, squeezing the supple hold of your tit, nipping harsher at your neck.

Nodding to his question, his fingers flick at your hardened nipples, pinching them till you cry pathetically. “Please, don’t make me wait any longer.”

He chuckles dryly, “I know I taught you better manners than that.” Another harsh pinch is applied, his fingers twisting mercilessly at your sensitive buds. A deep wave of pleasure courses through him at your desperate cries, his lips curling into a smug smile. “Always have been so impatient, haven’t you sunshine? Such a whiney little brat.”

You whine at the degradation, the quickness in which Blaise turned over a coin, moving away from his usual tolerating tone replaced by a figure of dominance, left you wanting more. With his free hand, he trails it down your body, making you squirm at his touch, his fingers pulling at the hemline of your panties. You shiver desperately, trying to clench at anything, his finger teasing your slit. Coaxing his digits in your juices, teasing your clit, rubbing small circles across the sensitive bud, the motions sending shocks of pleasure through you.

Moaning in relief, your hips buck as you grasp onto his shoulders, trying to bring him closer, needing, wanting more. He has other plans though, replacing his hand with his mouth, sucking on your nipple, he holds you firmly in place. Squeezing your thigh, nails digging into your skin, a cautionary threat. His fingers draw slow, sensual circles, creating shivers that spread over every inch of you. The tantalizing sensation leaves you squirming more in his hold, eyes peering at him wide, doe eyed.

Brown eyes peer down on you in mock disappointment at your feeble desire for him. “Ask me nicely, and maybe I'll go easy on you.” His cock twitches at the contortion of your face, revealing your desperate need for him, enough to spur him on, rubbing his finger at an intensely slow pace.

“Please Blaise, I’ll be good…I just need…need you to fuck me.” Breathlessly you ask him, his teasing pace making your head split, his lips still consumed by your tits.

His face curves amused into a satisfied smirk at hearing your request, demand. “Atta girl, wasn’t so hard now.” His fingers rub, increasing their pace on your hypersensitive clit, before sliding a digit inside your soaked pussy.

The surprised whine has him biting his lip, grazing his teeth across your nipple, suckling harder, leaving reddening marks across your breasts. Warmth invades him as his finger stretches you out, groaning at how needfully you clench, squeezing around him. “Fuck.” He slides another in relishing in the sounds you make, “gotta fucking stretch this tight little pussy out”.

Your cunt clenches trying to hold on to his fingers as he slides them through your wet folds, unable to stop your hips from lifting. The long wait of the pressure building has you clawing at his shoulder blades, you pleading with him before you know it. “Please, fuck, Blaise. Please, I need something more.”

“I said I’d go easy sunshine, I don’t think you’re read-” “Please!” A whine spurs from you in agony, at the thought of waiting any longer unbearable, having waited longer than tonight to fuck him.

He cocks a brow at your rude interruption, his eyes taking in your pleading face. It's lucky you were so damn cute with your face all scrunched, though if you didn’t want it easy, he wouldn’t give it to you.

Withdrawing his hands, he gives your cunt a small slap, silencing your outburst. “This is what you want. Is it not sunshine?” In seconds, he tugs his boxers down, his cock bursting as it springs free, smacking up into his abdominal.

Lowering your gaze lustfully, unable to stop the shameful way your mouth drops, your stomach dropping. Holy fuck. A wave of anticipation hums, an electric trill spikes through your nerves, making you tremble. He leans closer resting his head against your forehead, pumping his hard cock, small grunts of relief leave him. “Be a good girl and tell me if you want me to stop.”

Nodding while maintaining contact with his chestnut orbs, waves of comfort wash over you. He gives you a reassuring smile, tilting his head to brush his lips against yours again. The softness of his lips distracts you momentarily, a blaze of heat rising in you as he pushes forward, sliding the head of his cock into your folds. The stretch you felt as Blaise edged his cock further in catches your breath in your throat.

Groaning as he sank his hips forward, filling you up completely, his breath shallows feeling how your cunt swallows his cock. The tight warmness of your cunt, clenching, sucking his cock in snuggly, his hands resting on your hips, pausing as he waits for you to adjust. A sharp breath is drawn. “Fuck, you good sunsh-.”

“Holy shit, your cock feels so'good, so fucking big.” The look Blaise shoots at you shows his level of patience breaking. Agitated by your blunt interruption despite your erotic praise, hands gripping your hips tighter. He was used to your bratty attitude; it just was something that came with being your friend. But now buried deep within your warm walls, he wanted to fucking put you in your place.

In an instance, his hips move, pounding viciously, his muscles relaxing with each thrust, relishing at how well you're already taking him. You whimper, eyes widening at Blaise’s relentless pace, your nails digging into his skin to stabilise yourself. The intense pressure in your stomach spirals as you throw your head back, focusing hard on taking him. Your walls clenching, eyes squeezing shut incoherent babble spewing from your lips.

Blaise chuckles bitterly, “Remember when I said I wouldn’t go too hard on you? Yeah, well I lied.” Your skin burns, the tightening grip of his hands, his lips planting hot kisses along your neck. His hands grab your legs, wrapping them around himself, allowing him to sink deeper.

“Such an impatient little brat. Got what you wanted, now what you can’t even talk? Where’s the gratitude, Sunshine.” The more he degraded you, the more you whimpered, feeling overwhelmed by his words. He caresses your face, trying not to be too stern. “look at me, pretty girl, let me see you as you take my cock.”

With Blaise’s hand guiding your head, your eyes meet his, brows scrunching and lips parting, only breathless whimpers escaping them. Groans spill from himself watching you struggle, clearly enjoying the ruthlessness of his movements. “Tell me how good it feels.”

“So’ good..” a weak murmur is heard, making Blaise grin in satisfication, watching the way your tits bounce, your eyes glazed over, tears brimming.

“Takin me so well baby, such a good girl.” Blaise rests his head against your forehead, sharing sweet praises in between the sounds of your merciless whimpers. “Letting me take care of your sweet cunt, ain’t that right?”

Your body tenses convulsing, hands gripping roughly onto Blaise, mind fogging as your second climax approaches. His lips press claiming yours in a hot kiss, your breath stalled as he reaches down rubbing your clit, coaxing you closer to the edge. His own thrusts become more erratic, increasing his pace, groaning each time you squeezed his cock. Pleasure surges through you, feeling him slam repeatedly against the certain spot. “Blaise, fuck.. I’m gonna-”

An overwhelming cry tears through you, mind shattering as you fall over the edge. Head thrown back, pulling Blaise down with you, your legs continue to shake as he kisses your neck softly, his pace slowing as his own climax nears. His hands kept your legs pried wide as he groaned, rutting his hips with one last thrust, spilling his hot seed inside you.

He collapses on top of you, resting his head in the crook of your neck. Catching your breath, your hands caress, trailing along his back. “Thank you.” Your voice is soft and quiet but laced with teasing.

His head lifts, sighing in amusement at your comment with an eye roll, the corners of his mouth pulling into a smile. “You fucking kill me, sunshine.” He pushes himself off of you, pulling himself out, a collective sigh shared between you.

Rearranging himself, he moves to retrieve materials to clean you up. Tending to your sensitive body, his eyes meet yours, offering a hand out for you to sit up. “Did I hurt you?” His brows furrowing, eyes studying your overall reaction.

You shake your head, still feeling weak from the mind blowing experience. “no you could never hurt me. You take care of me, right?”

Blaise grins sweetly back at you, his hand twirling a loose strand of your hair around his finger. “I do. Always gonna take care of my sunshine.”

A new spread of red scatters your face as you give him a soft smile. Your eyes meet in a bittersweet moment, sharing in the reality of what had just happened. Biting your lip, giggles bubbling. “While I thanked you, you better thank the weasleys.”

The smile is swept off his face hearing your next comment, his eyes rolling back for the millionth time. His eyes give you a ludicrous look as he wraps his hands, engulfing your warm body and bringing you closer to him. “I think it’s you who finally deserves a thank you. Guess not all your ideas are disasters.”

You laugh, beaming at the warm embrace, glad your relationship hasn't changed. "So does that mean I win?”

He cocks a brow, snorting, “I don’t know about that. I think you’re still taking home the title of sore loser.” He winks, chuckling at his own innuendo. Though as he gazes upon you, captivated by your beauty, a realization of something new unfolds. A smile beams as he nods, “Though I guess you may have won in other ways tonight.”

Masterlist Tagged: @yourenogoodforme

#blaise zabini #blaise zabini f reader #blaise zabini x female reader #blaise zabini imagine #slytherin boys #slytherins #harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #hogmarch challenge #Blaise Zabini smut

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lexamiele · 17 days

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I Think It's Time to Switch Roles

Multiple ending options: Mattheo Riddle x Reader or Tom Riddle x Reader

Word count: approx. 3.5k

Summary: Some boys get away with everything - especially Mattheo Riddle, Hogwarts's most notorious playboy. After he cheats on you, though, you decide it's high time he gets a taste of his own medicine. And who better to help you on this mission but his brother?

🎵: Like a Boy - Ciara

Warnings/be aware: mentions of cheating, playboy!Mattheo being playboy!Mattheo, ooc!Tom Riddle, Tom Riddle isn't Voldemort, Blaise is really mean in this fic sorry guys

Pics (ltr): mine, esaminiv on Pinterest here, Pinterest here

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You laid in bed, staring at the top of the canopy above you, your eyes full of tears. How could this have happened? The air streaming in from your dormitory window was cold, but you couldn’t even bring yourself to cover your body with a blanket, instead allowing your shivers to add to your misery. Sniffling, you wiped your tears, only to feel harder sobs take hold of your chest as you curled up into a sad little ball on top of your comforter.

You hadn’t even wanted to say yes to Mattheo Riddle in the first place. You should’ve listened to that voice in your head when he’d asked you to go with him to Slughorn’s holiday party, how could you have been so stupid? But between the “in” to the exclusive club that he’d provided you and the encouragement of your friends who thought he was hot, you’d cracked. Even though you’d heart the rumors – Mattheo Riddle was a player, he never stayed with anyone for longer than three dates, he was a chronic cheater – you told yourself that it was fine, you were only saying yes to one date. Then you found yourself saying yes to another, and another. By the end of the month, you and Mattheo were an item.

Or so you’d thought. He’d never said he was your boyfriend, but you’d believed that was at least the direction in which your relationship was heading. You studied together in the library multiple times a week, went to Hogsmeade together every time there was an outing, and you’d even worn his jersey to the last Quidditch game. After rough practices, you patched him up. He confided in you about his difficult home life and how he was trying to quit drinking so much, and you were his biggest supporter as he’d worked to break the habit. The two of you held hands when you were walking to classes or at parties and he never hesitated to pull you into a broom closet for a quick snog before the two of you went your separate ways throughout the day. You’d had everything but the title, essentially, and you’d fallen hard.

Then, that morning, you’d walked into the Great Hall for breakfast only to see him with his arm around Lisa Turpin, smirking as he whispered something into her ear…just like he’d done with you the day before.

Determined not to let him get away with it, you’d stormed towards their table, shouting, berating him, the whole nine yards. In return, he’d laughed in your face, telling you that the two of you had never really been in a relationship. According to him, he was free to flirt with whoever he liked. You’d rolled your eyes and called him some choice insults before storming off, only breaking down once you’d reached the safety of your dormitory.

You’d dealt with playboys and cheaters before, but nothing like this. Most of them were at least a little embarrassed of their behavior and tried to hide their tendencies. Mattheo, on the other hand, had been utterly blatant. Maybe you only had yourself to blame for not asking him whether he thought of himself as your boyfriend. But still – you’d think that after over a month of consistently going out on dates, holding hands, and snogging, he would’ve at least warned you before he started seeing someone else.

“I can’t stand him!” you shouted to no one in particular, alone in your dormitory. Sitting up abruptly, you hurled a pillow across the room in frustration, and then another. The image of Mattheo and Lisa together kept replaying in your mind. You were tempted to break down again, but you fought the urge.

If Mattheo was convinced that the two of you had never been in a relationship, you were going to show him just how right he was. You hadn’t even wanted to go out with him in the first place, after all. Glancing at yourself in the mirror, you wiped away the remaining evidence of your tears, smoothing your hair and your robes. You could be just as unbothered as he was.

After a trip to the bathroom, where you’d washed your face and sorted yourself out, you spotted your textbooks in the corner of the bedroom. Your connection with Mattheo had distracted you from studying, with your desire to spend time with him overpowering your knowledge that you should be revising for Potions and Transfiguration. Well, that wasn’t a problem anymore. Stupid boys might fail you, but knowledge and stellar marks never would. Trying your best to hold your head high, you picked up your books and headed to the library.

Good for you, you told yourself. You could’ve stayed in bed crying all weekend, but you didn’t. You’re going to process all of this productively. You weren’t sure whether you believed it. Taking deep breaths in and out, you struggled to keep your emotions in check.

As you walked through the hallways, you felt the stares of your classmates who’d seen the events of that morning in the Great Hall. Pressing your lips together determinedly, you ignored them, your eyes straight ahead as you strode down the corridor. Your shoes tapped clearly against the stone floor as if to punctuate your determination.

Finally, you reached the library. Because it was the weekend, it was crowded with students in your year and the year above struggling to get their NEWT revising completed during the large chunk of free time. As more eyes lifted from books and pieces of parchment to focus on you, you escaped your fellow classmates through the stacks. Immersing yourself deeper in the library, you finally found yourself an empty table in solitude near the Restricted Section.

To your relief, you actually managed to study in peace for a few hours. The rhythmic nature of Ancient Runes translations helped to take your mind off your troubles and gave you a sense of accomplishment. You found a rhythm and also knocked out a short Charms essay before switching gears to Potions. Your life outside the stacks might have been chaos, but inside the library, there was only your brain turning and the scratching of your quill – peace. Unfortunately, your peace didn’t last forever.

As you outlined your Potions essay on a spare piece of parchment, a shadow passed across the table in front of you and you lifted your gaze to see none other than Tom Riddle in front of you.

Shoot.

Of all people to be exploring the depths of the library that day, one of them had to be Mattheo’s brother? Granted, with regards to temperament, it was difficult to tell that they were related. Mattheo was a partier and fell asleep in more lectures than he paid attention to, while Tom was an upstanding student, the Head Boy who was known for his perfect marks. But most of the time you’d spent around him had been while you were with Mattheo. Though he was known for being cold, Tom had been polite, even bordering on friendly, to you. You’d seen it as a great sign – his brother likes me! Maybe this will work out! Now, though, anything that reminded you of Mattheo – Tom included – made you want to scream. Fighting back tears, you struggled to ignore his presence, forcing your eyes back to the words on the page in front of you.

Thankfully, he disappeared into the stacks for a moment, but he was back soon enough, examining the options on the shelves ahead of you again. You bit your lip hard, needing some way to excise your irritation. Couldn’t he see that you were trying to concentrate? As his footsteps echoed through the Restricted Section, you reread the section you’d been trying to get through for the past five minutes in your textbook. Taking notes in an effort to force your brain to focus, you weren’t aware of how hard you were pressing the quill into the parchment until –

Snap.

“SERIOUSLY?”

You hadn’t intended to shout, but your exclamation as the pieces of your quill flew through the air attracted a harsh “sshhh!” from Madame Pince across the library, as well as the attention of one Tom Riddle. Sensing him staring at you, you felt even more flustered and covered your face with your hands in exasperation.

“Are you alright?”

You uncovered your eyes to see him watching you, looking mildly taken aback. His usual flat expression was complimented by a furrowed brow and slightly widened eyes. It was probably the first time you’d seen him look surprised by anything.

“I’m fine, Riddle.”

In the hopes that he would drop the subject and move on to whatever book he was looking for next, you began rifling through your bag, looking for another quill. You weren’t so lucky.

“You can just Reparo those, you know.”

You sighed. Of course he would choose this moment to make you look stupid.

“I know, but that involves getting up to get it,” you retorted, pursing your lips in frustration as you continued to search the depths of your bag for another quill.

“Accio.” In the blink of an eye, the bits of your snapped quill floated off the floor and sped towards Tom. He deposited them back on your table, raising an eyebrow.

“Right,” you sighed, feeling like an idiot. “Sorry. My brain must not be working today.”

“It’s nothing,” he replied evenly. He paused for a moment, then continued, his gaze connecting with yours. “I hope you’re alright.”

He didn’t sound particularly compassionate, but he didn’t seem sarcastic either. Nevertheless, you didn’t want to confront your feelings about the events of that morning, and definitely not in front of him. You shook your head, breaking the eye contact as you picked up the pieces of your broken quill and set them in front of you.

“I don’t want to talk about it, Riddle,” you stated firmly, waving your wand as you did so. Your quill reassembled itself in front of you, becoming useable again.

“I’ve no idea what you’re talking about,” he responded. “I merely thought that you seemed overwhelmed.” Your eyes widened in surprise.

“Did you not see…” you trailed off, your cheeks reddening in embarrassment. There was no way you could avoid talking about it now. “Did no one tell you about what your idiot brother did this morning?” He shrugged.

“My idiot brother does things ranging from unremarkable to awe-inspiringly ridiculous in character almost every day,” he answered dryly, pressing his lips together. “You’re going to have to be more specific.” You inhaled sharply.

“Your idiot brother spent all of breakfast cuddling and flirting with Lisa Turpin in front of me.”

“Oh.” Tom looked taken aback once again.

“Yeah.”

Your words hung in the air for a moment as he watched you.

“I’ll kill him.”

“I – what?” Tom and Mattheo were always bickering back and forth and disagreeing, but you’d kind of assumed that Tom would stick by his brother on this one. He didn’t seem like the sort of person who cared very much about preserving others’ feelings, considering the amount of times you’d heard about him leaving students who were caught out of bed past curfew quaking in their boots. Yet, the sudden intensity in his face sent shivers down your spine.

“I’ll kill him,” he repeated, his eyes connecting with yours again. He shook his head in frustration. “You were way too good for him. I told him it was time to grow up, to take something seriously for once. I suppose I shouldn't be shocked that he didn't listen."

“You…that's nice of you," you replied, a bit surprised that he would actually stand up for you like that. "Thanks." You shot him a sad little smile, your eyes welling up with tears. The reality that you and Mattheo were over hit you once again, and you let out a deep breath, trying to will yourself not to break down. You covered your face with your hands, but glanced back up as you heard Tom let out an aggravated sigh that echoed through the stacks.

“I hate that he’s like this,” he spat, shaking his head as he pulled the chair across from you out from under the table and sat down. “It’s like he has to make everything as difficult as possible.”

“It’s not just him,” you admitted, your gaze downcast. “The boys here are really awful.” Then you glanced up at him, remembering that he, too, was a Hogwarts boy. “No offense, of course.”

“None taken,” he drawled, letting out a little scoff. “They’re immature children, you should say so.” He paused, shaking his head. “My brother, though, he wakes up every morning and chooses to act this way, which is worse.”

“I thought it was just his coping mechanism,” you confessed, your trust in Tom growing with his own admittance. “I thought he’d finally shaken it for my sake…how could I be so stupid?”

“Don’t believe for a second that this is your fault.” Ordinarily it would’ve sounded comforting, but from his mouth, it sounded almost like a reprimand as he looked you sharply in the eye. “It’s his absurd behavior.” He ran a hand through his normally impeccable curls, and for a moment you couldn’t help but think that they looked better a little messy. “I wish I could get him to change, I just don’t know how.”

“The one puzzle the brilliant Tom Riddle can’t solve,” you joked without really thinking, but although he raised an eyebrow at you, there was no malice in it. “I’d love it if someone figured out how to knock some sense into him,” you added.

“One day, he’ll get his,” Tom remarked dryly. “I’d love to watch someone that he really likes do to him what he’s been doing to other people for years.”

Suddenly, something clicked, and you both stared at each other.

“Wait,” you began, a little smirk creeping up on your face. “Hear me out. I think I know how to teach your brother a lesson.”

“I’m listening.”

Brooms in hand, Mattheo, Blaise, and Theo exited the Slytherin Common Room, eager to start a game of Quidditch on the Hogwarts grounds before the afternoon sun slipped behind the clouds.

“Mate, Turpin was so into you this morning,” Blaise declared as they stepped through the door, which disappeared back into the wall behind them. “That was crazy, she’s so hot.”

Theo crinkled his nose. “Nah, that was weird, Matt. I thought you were still with Y/L/N.” Mattheo chuckled.

“Hey, I’m over that,” he responded with a dismissive wave of his hand. “I dunno where Y/L/N got the idea that we were together.” Theo shook his head.

“Just trying to keep up, man.”

“Hey, don’t knock his game!” Blaise interjected. “That was legendary.” Mattheo grimaced.

“Calm down, mate,” he interjected, glancing at Blaise this time. “I – “ He paused suddenly, his mouth snapping shut.

“What?” Blaise asked, looking back over toward his friend in confusion. Following Mattheo’s line of sight, he realized exactly what had stolen the air from his lungs.

You stood with your back against the cold, brick wall of the dungeons, biting your lip as your eyes danced flirtatiously in the dim light. In front of you, leaning against the wall was none other than Tom Riddle, who smirked as you whispered something in his ear. As you giggled, he placed a hand on your waist, his thumb stroking the bare skin of your back underneath your top.

“What in the name of Salazar is this?” Mattheo roared, storming towards the two of you. You couldn’t help but let out a real giggle as he stormed towards you, and you turned your head to acknowledge him as Tom continued to pin you against the wall.

“Oh, hi Matty,” you greeted innocently as Tom finally stood back up to allow you to sink your teeth in. “How are you? Lovely day out, isn’t it?”

“What are you doing with him?” Mattheo demanded, gesturing violently at his brother.

“Oh, well Tom and I have been getting on quite well,” you answered, continuing to bait him with your act.

“I can see that,” he retorted furiously, turning to his brother. “What’re you doing, having a go at Y/N?”

“I can do whatever I like, seeing as you’re with Turpin,” Tom stated evenly.

“But Y/N and I were…were…” You grinned smugly as he fumbled with his words. His gaze snapped back to you. “You can’t just snog me, and then go off and snog my brother!”

“We haven’t been snogging, Matty.” You widened your eyes, batting your lashes at him. Hook, line, and sinker. “Besides, since we were never dating or anything, I figured you wouldn’t have a problem with me and Tom spending some time together. Was I wrong?”

Mattheo’s face contorted as he sputtered, struggling for an excuse that he couldn’t find. You snuck a glance at Tom, who was looking back at you with interest.

“You can’t do this,” Mattheo declared angrily.

“What?” you asked sweetly before your eyes darkened. “Act like you did?”

His face fell, and he didn’t even have to say anything for you to know that he’d finally cracked. He let out a heavy breath of concession, shaking his head.

“Y/N, I’m so sorry,” he said sincerely, running a hand through his chronically messy hair. “You got me, I really messed up. Can you forgive me?” You raised a skeptical eyebrow, your hand on your hip.

“That depends, are you going to keep making moves on Turpin or whoever?”

“Lisa Turpin was a huge mistake!” he pleaded. “I’m so sorry, Y/N. We got too flirty when we talked and I just got caught up. I’ll never do it again.”

MATTHEO ENDING

You took a deep breath. You hadn’t considered what you would do if your plan with Tom actually worked – should you take Mattheo back? Did he deserve it?

“Will you be my boyfriend? And date me, and only me?” You watched him seriously. “I won’t keep running back to you, Mattheo. If you can’t commit to me, we’re done.”

“I should’ve committed to you ages ago,” he replied ardently, stepping towards you. You hesitated slightly, but didn’t back away. “You’re the one for me, Y/N. I just…we got so close so quickly, and I got scared. I should never have pushed you away. You’ll never need to keep running back to me. I’ll do all the work to keep you from here on out, I promise you that.”

You took a deep breath. As difficult as it would be to trust him again, you felt like he deserved one more chance.

“It’s going to take some time for me to trust you again, Matty,” you murmured, stepping closer to him and taking his hands in yours. “But I want to try. I- I’ll give you another chance.”

He hugged you fiercely, clinging to you as though he was terrified someone would take you from him.

“Thank you,” he breathed, his eyes welling up with emotion. “I don’t deserve it. I’ll do everything I can to make it up to you, Y/N.”

You kissed his forehead gently, running your hand through his curls. “We should talk some more,” you suggested. He nodded in agreement.

“Let’s go to my room,” he said. Taking your hand in his, he stepped away, but turned back to face Tom after a moment. “If you ever do that again, I will kill you.”

“Like you could if you wanted to,” Tom replied, shooting his brother a withering look.

As the two of you passed by Mattheo’s friends, you glared at Blaise. You’d overheard parts of their conversation echoing down the hall as you and Tom had executed your plan, and it took great willpower on your part to hold yourself back from flattening Zabini where he stood. You could’ve sworn you saw him let out a tremor of fear.

TOM ENDING

You let out a deep breath. He sounded so sincere, so heartbroken. But he’d also turned the tables on you in less than a day – one day he couldn’t wait to spend time with you, and the next he was snuggled up to someone else in front of everyone. Your lip curled, and you shook your head.

“I can’t trust you, Mattheo,” you said firmly. “And without trust, our ‘not-relationship’ or whatever we had means nothing. I’m sure I’ll forgive you in time, but I won’t have you back.”

“Please, Y/N,” he begged. “I should have committed to you long ago. All I want is to be your boyfriend, to be yours.” He took another step towards you. “I need you.”

You would’ve given so much to hear those words the day before, but with the image of him and Lisa Turpin together burned into your mind, they seemed so meaningless. Besides, you’d realized while executing this plan that there was a boy at Hogwarts who was exactly what you were looking for. Tom was focused and intelligent, and way more mature than anyone you’d had feelings for before, Mattheo included. Even though you’d planned the whole thing out, there’d definitely been a spark between the two of you a moment ago – the flirtatious look in his eyes had felt so real and his touch was addicting.

Normally, you wouldn’t even consider something like this – fancying Tom after going out with Mattheo seemed wrong. But after what Mattheo had done, you reasoned, anything was on the table.

“No, Mattheo,” you responded, shaking your head. “I hope you take this as a lesson. Treat Turpin or whoever you end up with right, and don’t take people for granted. You’ve lost me, Matty.”

He stared at you coldly, the sadness on his face replaced with emptiness. “Fine. Suit yourself, Y/N.” He paused, looking between you and Tom. “But that little stunt that you two pulled? That was messed up.”

You felt frustration and anger rise in your chest again. Maybe your plan hadn’t been the most straightforward strategy, but it was a last resort. Besides, what he’d done to you was the definition of messed up. Stepping forward, a little smirk spread across your face as your patience snapped.

“You want to know what’s messed up, Mattheo?” you murmured, centering yourself in front of him and lowering your voice to a whisper.

“I think I like your brother better.”

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