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tomriddleslove · 5 days

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Obliviate.

✩ Mattheo Riddle x Reader angst

Summary: The one where tensions are running higher, and everyone has to pick a side. You promised to stick by one another, but a stupid oath you made when you first met threatens to drive that apart. Alternatively: If you love her, then you have to let her go.

A/N: If you don’t listen to the recommended song when reading this i will fight you 🤺🤺

Song: Goodbye - Billie Eilish

The Daily Prophet

Unrest Brews as Dark Forces Loom

By Rita Skeeter

In a disturbing turn of events, Diagon Alley was rocked by an unprecedented attack last night, sending shockwaves throughout the wizarding community. Witnesses reported seeing a group of hooded figures, suspected to be Death Eaters, descending upon the famous magical thoroughfare with malicious intent.

The Flourish and Blotts bookstore bore the brunt of the assault, with its windows shattered and shelves overturned. Several nearby shops, including Ollivanders Wand Shop and Eeylops Owl Emporium, also sustained significant damage.

"I've never seen anything like it," said Horace Slughorn, a retired Potions Master who happened to be in the area during the attack. "It was pure pandemonium. People were running for cover, spells flying everywhere. It was like a scene out of the darkest days of the last wizarding war."

Ministry of Magic officials were quick to respond to the scene, deploying Aurors and members of the Magical Law Enforcement Patrol to contain the situation. However, the attackers managed to evade capture, leaving behind a trail of destruction and instilling fear in the hearts of many.

The Minister for Magic, Kingsley Shacklebolt, condemned the attack in the strongest terms, vowing to apprehend those responsible and bring them to justice.

"We will not tolerate such brazen acts of violence in our society," Minister Shacklebolt declared in a statement issued this morning. "The Ministry is fully committed to ensuring the safety and security of all witches and wizards, and we will spare no effort in our pursuit of these criminals."

The attack on Diagon Alley serves as a grim reminder of the growing threat posed by Voldemort's followers, who have been emboldened in recent months by reports of their dark lord's rumoured return. With tensions running high and fear gripping the wizarding world, many are left wondering what the future holds in this time of uncertainty.

You frown as you observe Mattheo, watching as he tosses the paper down onto the table in front of you with a huff. The tension in his face has become increasingly evident over the past few weeks, and you've begun to forget what Mattheo looks like when he isn't frowning.

You wrap your arms around his arm, leaning in close to him as you speak quietly.

“Hey. It’s alright,” You reassure, pressing a light kiss to his shoulder. He doesn’t tear his gaze away from the fireplace, a small huff of both frustration and amusement escaping his lips as he clenches his jaw, nodding.

“It’s alright.” He scoffs, chewing on the inside of his cheek.

It’s alright? No, it wasn’t alright. His father was a murderous lunatic who was about to trigger the second wizarding war. He had to sit back and watch his own friend get tortured for hours for failing to complete a task. He can't close his eyes without seeing Theodore writhing in pain on the floor.

Mattheo was expected to fight with them. The time would come, that was for certain. Mattheo would have to stand there, and raise his wand against the people he's shared a dorm with and sat in class with.

Hell, he would be expected to raise his wand against you.

“They always say this, Mattheo. They’ve been saying it for years, and nothing has happened.” You say, but even you can see how pathetic it sounds. Despite your efforts to comfort him, it's clear that his mind is elsewhere, consumed by the looming threat of war and the impossible choices he may soon be forced to make.

Mattheo finally tears his gaze away from the fireplace, his eyes meeting yours. Your breath hitches, the sheer look of sorrow in his eyes enough to shatter your heart into a million little pieces.

"I don't want to drag you into this," he confesses, his voice raw with emotion. "You deserve better than to be caught up in my mess."

Your heart sinks as you realize where this conversation is headed. "Mattheo, please," you plead, the fear in your voice palpable, "don't do this. Don't shut me out."

But he shakes his head, his expression pained. "I have to," he whispers, his voice barely audible. "Remember our promise?"

Mattheo looks up when he sees you sit next to him, a wide grin on your face as you unpack your bag.

He had seen you here and there in the common room. You always seemed to have an impossibly bright smile, far too lovely for the gloominess of Slytherin.

“Riddle.” You hum with a small grin, and he can't help but let a small smile tug at his lips as he looks over at you.

“What's wrong? You’re looking at me as though I’ve grown another head” You tease as you sit down next to him .

Mattheo blinks in surprise as you address him, the warmth of your smile catching him off guard. He's used to being treated with caution and apprehension, especially given his family's reputation and his own reserved demeanor. But your easy manner and genuine curiosity leave him feeling strangely disarmed.

"Nothing's wrong, just lost in thought, I suppose," he replies, a hint of amusement in his voice as he watches you unpack your bag. Despite himself, he can't help but feel a sense of curiosity about you, wondering what it is that draws you to him when so many others keep their distance.

-•-

“Please-” Mattheo pleads in frustration, slamming the door shut behind him as he storms through the empty common room. You follow after him briskly, slamming the door that separates the common room from the dorms closed with a flick of your wand as you corner him.

“What do you mean, please?” You snap, frowning at him.

“Stop-” He says, his movements exasperated as he motions between the two of you “- this! Stop trying to be friends with me! It’s for your own good.” He says, looking up at you.

You let out a dry laugh, a mix of amusement and frustration as you shove him lightly.

“Oh fuck off. So you can kiss me and spend every evening with me but when it suits you we are just friends. You don't get to decide what’s good for me, Mattheo. I choose what I do and who I associate with, and if that hurts me then so fucking be it.” You retort harshly. Mattheo goes to interject but you cut him off.

“No! You don't get to choose when you want to be with me. I want you, Mattheo. All of you. I couldn’t give two flying shits about who your father is, or who you associate with. I'm capable of making my own decisions.”

He remains silent, his expression torn between turmoil and guilt, as your words hang heavy in the air between you. You feel slightly guilty for your outburst and your expression softens, reaching out to hold his hand gently as you speak.

"You know, if you really think it's that dangerous for me to be around you, you could always just obliviate me. Make me forget about you completely."You quip, trying to lighten the mood

For a moment, Mattheo's shock gives way to a burst of laughter, the tension in the room dissipating as he shakes his head in disbelief. "You're impossible," he says, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "But I wouldn't have it any other way."

-•-

You pull back from Mattheo, shaking your head. “No. No, that was a joke.” You stammer, but he turns to you.

“It wasn’t. We spoke about it afterwards. You promised me.” Mattheo says, sternly.

You know he’s right. You only agreed because the idea seemed so laughable. But now it was a reality, and you could see the hurt and disappointment in Mattheo's eyes.

Tears well up in your eyes as you struggle to find the right words, the weight of everything crashing down on you like a ton of bricks. "I love you, Mattheo," you say, more of a plea than anything else. He draws you into him, a strong arm wrapping around you tightly, as though he is scared to let you go. His hand cups the back of your head, pulling your head down to rest on his shoulder as he kisses the top of your head.

“I know. I love you too. That's why we have to.” He murmurs, trying his hardest to not let his voice break.

-•-

It’s not fair.

It wasn’t fucking fair.

Mattheo had just found it. Found his reason for living. Found his reason to keep going when all the odds were stacked against him. You were the air he breathed, the light that lit his life up and the tender hand that soothed him. You were his everything, and you had to be snatched away from him.

He gently raps on the door to your dorm, just to let you know he was about to enter before cracking the door open. You hastily scramble, shoving the book you were writing with under your pillow as you spot Mattheo.

He notices but he doesn't say a thing, no, he can't. Because in a few minutes, it would be as though he never existed to you. He couldn't tell what would have hurt more, you not being able to see him, or you not even knowing who he was. You’d hold his heart in your hands, unknowingly, and he would be nothing but a stranger.

“Not in here, Please, not in here.” You breathe out, your words hitching in your throat as you fight back tears. He nods wordlessly, taking a step back.

“No one’s in the common room. I’ll uh- go there.” He murmurs, his voice hollow and empty as he turns to leave, unable to bear the thought of facing you for what may be the last time.

As he makes his way down to the common room, every step heavier than the last, he can't shake the feeling of emptiness that gnaws at his insides. It's like a void, swallowing him whole and leaving nothing behind but a hollow shell of the person he used to be.

He finds a seat in the furthermost corner, where you both usually sat, facing the fireplace. He watches the embers crackle and dance, not even noticing your presence till you slide up into the seat next to him. He wants to avert his gaze when he sees the tears in your eyes, but instead, he reaches up.

His hands were shaking. Why were they shaking?

He wipes a stray tear from your cheek.

“My wand. Let me go uh-” He blurts , quickly getting up as he looks away. He blinks back tears as he hurries up the stairs. Instead of going up to his dorm, however, he sneaks into yours.

He walks over to your bed, pulling back your pillow. Sure enough, the small book you were so desperate to conceal from Mattheo was there. He looks around and then with a small huff, tucks it into his back pocket. He hurries back downstairs.

Returning to the common room, he sits back down next to you, his hand reaching out to gently intertwine with yours as you sit together in silence. For a while, you don't say anything. You fear that speaking will break this small bubble, where time has frozen and you can just enjoy your last moments together.

As Mattheo gently cups your face, his touch trembling with the weight of what's to come, he feels the soft dampness of your tears against his fingertips. Your eyes, filled with sorrow and pleading, search his for some semblance of reassurance, some sign that this isn't the end.

"I can't do this," he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper, his heart breaking with every word. "I can't lose you. You mean everything to me. I’m so scared"

Your sobs fill the air around you, the sound like a knife to Mattheo's heart as he struggles to hold back his own tears. He leans in, pressing his lips against yours in a tender, bittersweet kiss, savouring the taste of your lips one last time before it's all gone.

“I love you.” Is all you can muster. It’s pathetic, but it hurts to even think about anything.

You cling to him desperately, your fingers tangling in his hair as though trying to anchor yourself to the present. Mattheo feels a lump form in his throat, the weight of his decision pressing down on him like a suffocating blanket, but he knows that he has to do this. For your own safety, for your own sake, he has to let you go.

His forehead presses against yours, taking in every last moment of intimacy he’s granted. You don't open your eyes, and he's grateful, for he doesn't think he could bear to look you in the eye.

“Obliviate.”

The second after he murmurs the words he stumbles away from you, reeling backwards as though your touch has burnt him. You wouldn't remember a thing about him, not even his name. He couldn’t be close to you anymore.

Mattheo watches as you blink, confusion clouding your features as you try to make sense of your surroundings. You look around the room, your eyes scanning the familiar surroundings with a sense of bewilderment, and for a moment, Mattheo's heart clenches with the hope that maybe, just maybe, you'll remember him. But deep down, he knows that it's futile, that the spell has already taken effect, erasing every trace of him from your mind.

You shake your head slightly, as if trying to clear the fog from your thoughts, before turning and heading up to your bed. Mattheo watches you go, his heart breaking with every step you take away from him, knowing that he can never follow.

But then, just as you reach the top of the stairs, you pause, your gaze flickering back to where Mattheo stands in the corner of the room. And in that moment, you give him a small, absentminded smile, the kind of smile you might give to a passing stranger.

Mattheo's heart lurches in his chest at the sight of your smile. He wants to call out to you, to tell you who he is, to beg you to remember him, but he knows that it's pointless. You're gone, lost to him forever, and there's nothing he can do to change that.

As you disappear, he collapses down onto the sofa, He wants to sob, and for a second he thinks he is, a horrible restictive choking feeling in his throat as he looks down at the floor. He reaches into his pocket, fingers fumbling with the small black book, perhaps the last piece of you he’d truly have.

He finds the most recent entry and wipes away the tears that blur his vision as he begins to read.

Don't be alarmed when you see this. I want you to read every word of this carefully. This is you, that is writing. It is the 26th of June, 1996. You might have felt like you’ve woken up in the common room, feeling a bit disoriented.

You were obliviated. And it was your idea.

When you were that annoying, pestering little kid, you had taken it upon yourself to befriend a boy called Mattheo Riddle. You’ll see him over the next few days, perhaps. He might look at you as though it hurts him to. It most definitely does. He’s devastatingly handsome, with the softest brown curls and the most expressive eyes. I do believe you won't need me to describe him. Really, my love for him is so strong I doubt any sort of obliviate can erase the idea that Mattheo Riddle lives within the recesses of your heart. Everyone had warned you of how dangerous he was, how his father was rumoured to be the Dark Lord and that he was bound to be no good. But you, in your true Slytherin ambition, set out on a mission to befriend him.

And you fell in love. It was impossible not to, really.

He is everything to me. He was everything to you. He is the most brilliant boy I’ve known. Far too many people gave up on him early. He’s beyond just being incredibly intelligent. He feels. And that’s rarer than you might believe. For someone who was subjected to such horrible things growing up, he is tender. Do not let his bruised knuckles and split lips fool you.

Now, more than ever, he will struggle. He believes you are fully not aware of him. But with this, I hope you are.

Be there for him. Do not tell him about this. You were awfully good at forcing your way into people's lives. Do that for him now. Make him think it was a coincidence. Be there for him, and don’t let his stubbornness fool you. Merlin knows he will be stubborn. He is simply scared, and you mustn’t let that deter you.

People will often compare their lovers to the sun. Bright, warm, near perfect. Mattheo is the moon, casting a gentle glow in the darkness, guiding you through the night. He may not shine as brightly as the sun, but his presence is no less mesmerizing, no less essential.

You had always preferred the moon more, anyway.

Take care of him.

You stupid girl. You stupid, selfish girl.

Mattheo's hands tremble as he reads the letter, his heart constricting with every word, every line. It's like a knife to his heart, the pain of knowing that even in a situation like this, you still found a way to look after him, to care for him, to love him.

Tears blur his vision as he reads on, each word cutting deeper than the last. The book, filled with pages of recollections of the time they spent together, feels like a cruel reminder of everything he's lost, everything he can never get back.You had nearly filled the whole book, addressed to yourself with worries and letters in the hopes of getting your obliviated mind to fall back in love with Mattheo. To remember him, and to negate the whole idea of obliviating yourself by leaving this book for your future self.

And you did all of this just because you wanted to look after him.

It hurts to breathe, to even entertain the idea of going to bed tonight knowing that the love of his life sees him as nothing but a stranger. And in his hands, he holds the thing that could do the impossible, that could somehow reverse it all.

The very selfish part of him wants you to see the book. He wants to slip upstairs, and hide it back under your pillow, and let you find the words you addressed to yourself.

But he couldn’t. He could die far more happily knowing he’s not leaving you behind, no. Really, you were never his, the two of you forcing destiny in the opposite direction, living on borrowed time. Now he has to face the consequences of it all, and if he can stop you bearing the brunt of it, then he’s made no mistake.

He places the book down on the table, and doesn’t think twice about his actions.

“Incendio.”

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tomriddleslove · 5 days

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GUYS THESE PAIRINGS ARE SM FUN

i will go through and complete the rest of them in the meantime. I do just want to clarify something though.

PLEASE DO NOT SEND THROUGH A PAIRING REQUESTS IF YOU ARE A MINOR.

I have made a separate account for my SFW work, but I don’t feel comfortable doing these types of requests for a minor. I didn’t specify this in my last post, so if you’ve already sent a request, just send another ask telling me which one is yours so I know not to respond to it.

If you are a minor and you have sent a request, and upon seeing this do not DM me to remove it, you will be blocked.

#slytherin #slytherin boys #tom riddle #harry potter #draco malfoy #lorenzo berkshire #slytherin boys fic #theodore nott #blaise zabini #pansy parkinson

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tomriddleslove · 5 days

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hey hey, hope you enjoy your break!

thank you for doing this little game

So I’m 5’6, I have dark hair that frames my face and dark almond eyes. I’m someone who is very very ambitious and if I set my mind to something I will make it happen no matter what, I also love very deeply. I love loving someone aha. I’m also a big reader, always surrounded by books and I love listening to music. I’m a slytherin!

This one popped out at me so call it fate or whatever, i think you two match perfectly.

Pairing: Draco Malfoy.

The Draco Malfoy, who got sorted into slytherin before the sorting hat could even touch his head. A true slytherin through and through, what more would he want from a partner than someone who is ambitious?

He has high expectations of himself and needs someone who can respect that, if not push him further towards them. You were that person, and it was essentially a sone deal for them.

Now I also think Draco would be a sucker for almond shaped eyes, and he would make a corny poetic comment about it when you first started dating.

I think he’s quite a gentleman. He didn’t court you per say, but he did make his intentions clear and take you out for dates. Buy you flowers, the whole spiel.

Realistically I think he wants someone who enjoys the lifestyle he lives. Rather grandiose. Someone who accepts being spoiled.

BUT

We forget that all Draco wanted was a normal (high society) teenage life.

He loved reading. Adored it. That’s all he could really do at the Manor. Much to his fathers disapproval, he knew all the classics. From Homer, to Dostoevsky. He read the poets, and the philosophers. He loved reading and only fell in love with you more when he found out you read too.

That’s often what the two of you did together, reading silently in eachothers presence.

QUALITY TIME.

He loves being around you, doing anything. Revising, sleeping. It’s tenfold better now that you’re here with him.

He doesn’t really like music much, especially not after being forced into pianoforte lessons by his parents.

But, when he hears you hum along to your music, it’s the most beautiful sound, and he swears he could listen to ur for days on end.

It became more official when he asked you to come home with him during the Christmas Holidays, so you couldn’t meet his mother. Draco loves his mother dearly, and her seal of approval was a make or break for him.

That day you turned up, dressed elegantly with a gift for her. You wooed get over immediately, clearly having put in the effort yet still so undeniably you.

It’s not that you were trying to be someone you weren’t, but you knew the right side of yourself to present. Needless to say, Narcissa was immediately planning your future with Draco.

On the last day of you staying with him, you convince him to sneak out of the manor. You grab his hands, and the two of you cannot help but feel exhilarated as you sneak through the corridors, sprinting down the halls. You made him feel normal. He felt alive with you, like he was just a student with no worries but exams and relationships.

You danced in the rain that night, to the melody of your haphazard singing. The memory is forever engrained into Draco’s head. It’s what he thinks of the first time he successfully casts a patronus.

Draco is a very complex boy. He’s scared, he doesn’t know how to deal with emotions. He’s temperamental, and he gets angry. He thought that would drive you away, that it would make you leave him.

But you love. Deeply. You stuck by him through everything. When he needed to get away, you were ready to leave without second thought. When he needed someone to defend him, you were there without a doubt. When he needed to cry, you held him. The only things that mattered to you was him, as was the same for him. Nothing, and no one mattered, if you were involved.

The battle of Hogwarts was hell for him. He couldn’t cope not seeing you for seconds. He only prayed by putting himself forward first he could delay you from doing anything.

After it all finished, he immediately proposed. Not a whole on one knee thing. Rather, he grabs your face, kisses you, and gives you the ring he’s been carrying with him for a year now. Nearly loosing you made him realise he cannot wait any longer without letting you know how much you mean to him.

“Marry me. In 1 year. 3 years, even 10. Whenever, just marry me.” He breathes out, forehead pressed against yours.

It’s never a question of “would he kill for you?”. Rather, it’s “Who am i going to kill for you.”

Additional: His favourite thing to do is lay on top of you and complain about everyone as you massage his scalp. He doesn’t need heaven, it’s right in front of him.

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tomriddleslove · 5 days

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Hey coming as anon because I wanted to participate and not show my mutuals how delusional i am lol .

I am 5'5 female with brown eyes and black hair . I am an ambivert and ig quite brutally honest (per say my friends) tho i curse 24/7 . I am academically very good and I love to go on arcade and go bowling or trampoline. Also I love to party , not like actual clubs bcoz I'm not the legal age but just the vibe y'know . I'm pretty skinny and have medium hair . I love to bully my friends lol and i curse alot . Also I loveeee to dress up . I also love to slap and punch around my friends jokingly and I'm veryyyy sarcastic .

Tysmmm and I'm so sorry for this being long .

- 💗 anon

This one had me pondering a bit, I was in a toss up between three people but came to my conclusion at the end 😻🙏🏼

Pairing: Blaise Zabini

People forget Blaise Zabini is Canonically a snooty person who views himself as above everyone else.

That being said, I think he would adore someone who wasn’t afraid to say what they thought and knew their worth.

Like Blaise himself, he would not want an overtly extroverted partner, but he would want someone who can hang out with his friends and go to a party every once in a while.

Beauty and Brains are the winning combo for him. He loves a smart girl, he thinks it’s the hottest thing in the world. I think it’s probably what first got him to notice you, when Theodore was complaining about you turning down an invite to his halloween party because you needed to revise. You later compromised to come halfway through - work hard and play harder.

You’re witty with your remarks and your favourite hobby to do together is to people watch and comment on everyone as they walk past. Never overtly rude, your friends bear the worst of the brunt. It’s all in good faith though, you’d do anything for your friends (but they’re hillarious to make fun of with blaise.)

He loves a girl who likes her gifts and expensive things. For Blaise, it’s his way of demonstrating his ‘influence’ . He’s not overtly aggressive like Mattheo, nor does he flaunt like mattheo. It’s effortless for him, dropping thousands on gifts for you for no particular reason.

ACTS OF SERVICE. SO BLAISE CODED.

Massaging your shoulder when you’re tired. Carrying your stuff for you when you’re going out. When he says princess treatment, he means it. That being said, he also respects the fact that sometimes you don’t want that. Sometimes he knows all you want to do is grab a fat bag of strawberry laces and rot in bed all day with him. And if that’s what you want, that’s what he’ll do. He knows you better than you know yourself, so attuned to who you are he knows you’re sick days before you do. He has your timetable memorised, picking you up from every class.

When the other hear you two talk they think you must hate eachother, always making snarky sarcastic remarks at one another. Really, you two love one another so much it’s almost sickening, but that’s just how the two of you are.

Blaise isn’t one for outwardly showing his emotions. He’s known as the calm one, the one who is alway poised and collected. He’s reluctant to show them to you, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t need comforting from time to time.

On those days, you’ll find a slightly quieter part of the common room to sit in. You’ll rest your head on his shoulder, and hold his hand. You’d soothingly rub circles on the back of his hand with your thumb, letting him know you’re there.

That’s all he could ever ask for, and it means more than words could express.

He always makes sure to go all out for your anniversary. You immediately got the Mrs Zabini seal of approval when you first met her, and for a woman who do infamously cycled through husbands like seasons of the year, she knew you were the one for her son.

This meant so much to Blaise, who loved his mum dearly. He literally has your wedding planned out.

I love Blaise so much I could write for days but yeah .

#slytherin #slytherin boys #tom riddle #harry potter #draco malfoy #lorenzo berkshire #slytherin boys fic #theodore nott #blaise zabini #pansy parkinson

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tomriddleslove · 5 days

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hii I saw you were doing pairings and I was wondering if I could get one! So I’m a gryffindor but very easily could be Slytherin. I’m a perfect mix of James and lily both appearance and personality wise. I LOVE music with all my heart and I love reading. I’m super into psychology and am a huge foodie. I’m very blunt and outgoing and I value humor, honesty, and communication. I love fashion and clothes and all things girly even though my vibe is a bit more dark. I’ve been told I would be “Arabella” from arctic monkeys. But I also could've be written by Olivia Rodrigo 🤭. THANK YOU SO ML ILY 🩵

ILY MORE 🙁🙁🙁

Pairing: Mattheo Riddle.

Controversial opinion, but broody Mattheo needs an outgoing and humorous partner who would not hesitate to put him in his place when he’s being far too irritable and moody.

You both bonded over your love of music. You noticed him slipping a wired earbud into his ear during transfiguration one day (which came as a shock to you because why would such an esteemed slytherin be using muggle technology?)

You heard the music bleeding through the earphones and couldn’t help but feel even more suprised.

You nudged him and he glared at you irritably.

“What?” He snaps, scowling as he removes his earbud.

“As much as I like creep, your music is bleeding out. If the class goes silent everyone will hear.” You say, an amused smile tugging at your lips.

Now it’s his turn to look slightly shocked, and a little embarassed. You were the first person to know who any of the artists he listened to were, and you didn’t judge him for it. No, actually you loved the same ones he did.

From that day onwards you’d always listen to music together. Sharing earphones during class, you’d exchange songs whenever you were able to go out and buy them from the one music store that was situated deep into hogsmeade.

The time you spent together soon began to extend to free periods, spent lazing by the black lake, listening to music as you do some work or simply rest. He felt suprisingly calm with you, as though all the bitterness and anger that simmered within him just dissipated whenever you were there.

He adores how funny you are. Your ability to crack jokes and be so intimidatingly witty is something that always lightens his mood no matter how stoic he may seem on the outside.

But perhaps, what he loves most is how stubborn you are. How you don’t let him move, or shut you out when he begins to feel bad. The first time he began to ignore you because he was feeling rather low, you stormed into his room, all but lectured him with the same tenacity a mother would scold her disobedient child, and then proceeded to help him with his work and tidy his room. He looked at you as though you hung the sun in the sky.

He was an absolute lovesick fool from that day. He doesn’t waste a second in telling you though, because he (as you are) is straightforward.

His favourite thing to do very quickly became taking you out for cafe dates. Trying random foods, critiquing them as if you were connoisseurs, and then listening to the playlist you’d alternate between making for these afformentioned dates.

Your an absolute angel to the outsiders eye, soft and sweet. But Mattheo is terrified of you, and he knows you won’t hesitate to give him hell if he fucks up. He loves you for that, and there’s no doubt in his mind that you’re the only one for him.

#slytherin #slytherin boys #tom riddle #harry potter #draco malfoy #lorenzo berkshire #slytherin boys fic #theodore nott #blaise zabini #pansy parkinson

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tomriddleslove · 5 days

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OKAY I SAW THAT U WERE DOONG THE PAIRINGS AND I HAD TO JUMP ON IT, HOPEFULLY THIS ISNT TOO LONG

I have hip length brown hair w a little wave at the bottom, brown eyes, 5’2, my style is like a mix between like flowy sundresses, yoga pants and hoodies, natural makeup but w subtle pink eyeshadow and sparkles!

Personality wise I’m super shy, I LIVE for music (top 3 r $B Lana and Chase Atlantic), empathetic, a little lazy (😖), bookworm, introvert, I’m an INTJ-T if that helps, OH and I’m into astronomy + astrology, on that note I’m a Pisces!

I LOVE THESE BECAUSE I CAN TELL WHO YOUD MATCH BY THE WAY YOU SENT THIS MESSAGE.

Pairing: Theodore Nott.

The second you said sundresses and long hair, I knew you would be Theodore’s girl without a doubt.

A super shy, bookworm music lover is basically Theodore when he’s not putting on the whole loud guy act with his friends.

He 100% fell in love with you at first sight, and he’s not afraid to be terrifyingly cheesy when he’s with you.

You’re his all to him, and he’d drop anything for you at any moment. He follows you around like a lovesick puppy, heart eyes and all. Carrying your bag for you, picking you up from lessons.

He brings you flowers every weekend and happily funds all your shopping trips. He loves buying you clothes and seeing you look all pretty, knowing he’s the only one who gets to have you.

He loves listening to you talk about astronomy. It’s how the two of you met, sitting next to one another during your lessons.

Despite having been in a relationship with his for a while, he’s still embarassed to admit how much of a love he has for topics like astronomy. He was educated on them as a child, and never gave up reading and researching. He doesn’t tell you that he knows all the facts you tell them, because he loves the way your eyes light up when you babble onto him about whatever odd new thing you’ve learnt.

On your birthday, you both sneak out of the castle, and into hogsmeade. He takes you up a steep trail, and he assures you it’s all worth it whilst you complain about being dragged up a hill in the freezing cold. However, the second the view comes into sight you take it all back.

Without any pollution from the light, the stars are clear as day. It’s almost surreal, the way they seem to fill the abandon of the night sky. The two of you lay there for what seems like hours. exchanging little faces and snacking on some sweets Theodore had stolen from Lorenzo earlier on that day.

He gifts you a small silver locket, with your constellation engraved on the back. When you open the locket, there’s a small drawing. It was a little doodle you did on the note you passed Theodore the first time you both started talking. He pulls your hair to the side, gently clasping the locket around your neck before tenderly pressing a kiss to your temple.

“Happy birthday, My love.”

#slytherin #slytherin boys #tom riddle #harry potter #draco malfoy #lorenzo berkshire #slytherin boys fic #theodore nott #blaise zabini #pansy parkinson #theodore nott x you

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tomriddleslove · 5 days

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NO LONGER TAKING REQUESTS AS OF 26/04/24

HI!

I’m taking a small break from writing long requests rn (i will do them, i promise). However, I have something else!

I’m going to do little slytherin boys pairings and relationship descriptions. Just send me an ask w a description of you, your character traits, and i’ll pair you with the slytherin boy I think suits you best and do a small drabble on them!

First come, first serve 😻🙏🏼

#slytherin #slytherin boys #tom riddle #harry potter #draco malfoy #lorenzo berkshire #slytherin boys fic #theodore nott #blaise zabini #pansy parkinson

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tomriddleslove · 6 days

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Mattheo Riddle, under that hardened exterior, is just a boy who wants to be loved.

For someone who isn’t religious, he prays every day, thanking the heavens above for you. To say you were his saviour would be an understatement. You quickly became the life force that flowed through his veins.

Comong from an unstable background with absent parents and no guidance, he became accustomed to broken noses, split knuckles and bruises far earlier than any young kid should be. It was a rather disheartening situation, and at the mere age of 12 Mattheo had been sure he knew what his future was.

Dead in a ditch somewhere, as result of either a nasty drunken fight or his fathers actions. Both as bad as eachother, and both equally as probable.

He was near impossible to get through to. You started off as good friends, but every moment of self doubt and sabotage led to Mattheo shutting you out. The cycle repeated until it bought you to tears for the first (but not last) time.

Seeing you cry only solidified Mattheo’s belief that he was a monster; an unlovable nobody who would ruin someone like you. You would be far better off without him.

You however, were far too stubborn for your own good and refused to let that get in the way. After a few months of continuously fighting and making up, Mattheo finally admitted his feelings to you. He all but broke down sobbing, repeating how he wasn’t good for you and that he didn’t deserve your love, murmuring the words as though they were a mantra drilled into his head, the result of years of neglect.

You held him tightly until his tears were no more. He doesn’t thinks he’s ever cried in front of a person before. You made him feel safe.

That became his favourite place to be. Holding onto you, his arms wrapped around your waist with his head resting in your chest. Listening to the rhythm of your heart knowing that every beat was a reason for him to carry on trying, a reason for him to not give up. The hope for a future, with you, was enough to give him hope.

For a boy who was so rough around the edges, you touched him like he was the most fragile thing in the world, and looked at him as though he had hung the sun.

He would toy with your fingers as you both huddled into the roof of the owlery, a thin blanket and a poorly casted warming charm enveloping the two of you as you’d overlook the night sky. He’d press a chaste kiss to the back of your hand. You admired the stars, and he admired you.

He was yours, unconditionally.

#slytherin #slytherin boys #tom riddle #harry potter #draco malfoy #lorenzo berkshire #slytherin boys fic #theodore nott #blaise zabini #pansy parkinson #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle #mattheo x you #mattheo x y/n #mattheo riddle fluff #mattheo riddle drabble

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tomriddleslove · 7 days

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Theodore Nott is 100% the doting type of lover.

Not at first, though. He was terribly scared of falling in love, because all he had as a frame of reference was his mother and father. In my eyes, the only love Theodore received as a child was from his mother, from the way she’d comb his hair to the way she’d heal his wounds if he ever got hurt. Naturally, that means when Theodore fell in love with you, he did the very same things.

He’d show his love for you in the way he carries your favourite sweets in his bag for whenever you’re feeling bad. The way he fixes a plate for you at dinner before he does it for himself. The way he makes you take a break when you’re overworking yourself.

He stares at you dumbfoundedly the first time you do the same for him. He freezes, and he doesn’t know what to say. He practically almost runs away, leaving you to think you’ve done something wrong. See, for Theodore acts of service are like the purest form of love. When you do the same for him, you’re declaring you love him irrevocably, and he thinks he doesn’t deserve that.

So he ghosts you. For a day or two. And those two days are hell for him. He cannot get over the idea that he isn’t deserving of your love. After a small confrontation in his room, and a few tears, you assure him he is worthy of it. That’s the very same day he knows he wants to spend the rest of his life with you. You made Theodore feel as though loving him was as easy as breathing. And it was, how couldn’t it be?

The next day, Theodore took you out to hogsmeade and you both browsed some pretty little rings. He wanted to get you a promise ring, and you fell in love with a beautiful emerald cut sapphire ring. It’s undoubtedly an engagement ring, far too expensive to be anything else. You marvelled at the display whilst he paid for the small gold one you had chosen as the promise ring.

When you both go to grab a butterbeer. He slips out under the guise of having to go to the bathroom.

He returns back no more than 5 minutes later, with his wallet considerably lighter, and one sapphire ring encased in a ornate black box.

Biding it’s time in his drawer, until the day you wear it on your ring finger.

#slytherin #slytherin boys #tom riddle #harry potter #draco malfoy #lorenzo berkshire #slytherin boys fic #theodore nott #blaise zabini #pansy parkinson #theodore nott x y/n #theodore nott x you #theodore nott fluff #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott drabble

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tomriddleslove · 8 days

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guys i actually cannot find the willpower to write rn idk why i’m being lazy ash

bear with me for a bit and i’ll get some stuff out soon 😔😔

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tomriddleslove · 9 days

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hi it’s me again - I saw you made a sfw blog and I just wanted to say thank you since most creators would not care <3

AWWWW YOU DONT HAVE TO THANK ME!!!

I love writing and want everyone to be able to read my stuff. I didn’t really plan on ever doing NSFW but since I have, I 100% understand the need for a seperate blog with just SFW content.

Hopefully i’ll be going through and updating everything on there shortly!!

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tomriddleslove · 9 days

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For the ask yesterday!!

Hi Everyone!

This is the blog i’ll be using to copy over all my SFW content. Due to my other blog* having both SFW and NSFW, I am not comfortable with Minors interacting on that page. However, if you enjoy my sfw posts and want to read them , i have this blog which i’ll post them to aswell!

*@tomriddleslove

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tomriddleslove · 10 days

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Repent - Pt 2

✩Tom Riddle x F!Reader

Summary: The one where love is too strong a word, but hate and desire toe the same line. The question is, does Tom recognise that?

TAGS: oral (f receiving)

18+ MDNI

Tom Riddle didn’t believe in salvation. The idea of some divine entity having the ability to rid one of their sins no matter how horrific seemed a rather laughable matter.

Tom Riddle didn’t believe in salvation until he kissed you. Gods, it was more than enough to consume his soul with a fervent longing for redemption he never knew existed.

“I’m sorry.” He murmurs, pressing a chaste kiss to your calf. The words feel bitter on his tongue, yet the knowledge of what awaited him afterwards masked the aftertaste.

He goes to move upwards but you apply more pressure with the tip of your heeled shoes, forcing him back down onto his knees as you lean back on the desk.

“Oh come on, Riddle. All those months of being brushed off, snapped at, and lied to. You think a single ‘sorry’ will suffice?” You hum, a sort of venom in your tone that sounds like honey to the ears of the unknowing.

Every word you spoke chipped at his resolve, though he knew he was gone for the second you laid eyes on him in this room. He was going to kill you. He was ready to wrap his hand around that perfect throat of yours that had faint purple marks already beginning to blossom and watch as the life drained out of your eyes.

At least let a man get a taste of heaven before he damns himself to hell.

He presses another kiss to your calf, shifting so your leg is thrown over his shoulder. He wraps his hand around your leg, the sinewy contours of his veins flexing and shifting as he looks up at you through his long eyelashes.

“I’m sorry.” He murmurs, kissing your calf. A whispered confession, an acknowledgement of his wrongs. Something Tom believed he would never dare admit, let alone to someone who held the power to destroy him completely with what they knew.

But merlin, wrong has never felt so right. He moves an inch higher.

“I’m sorry.” He mutters, pressing another chaste kiss to your shin. His lips ghost the expanse of your leg, each breath clouding your judgement further.

“Sorry.” Kiss. “Sorry.” Kiss. “Sorry.” Kiss. He continues this pattern, worshipping your body till he reaches your upper thigh. Your heartbeat quickens though you dare not show it, though your breathing is noticeably heavier as you look down at him. He looks up at you through half-lidded eyes, eyes locking onto yours as he leaves a trail of kisses up your thigh, murmuring apologies with every breath.

A shaky breath escapes your lips as he kisses the flesh of your upper thigh, moving your dress up slightly. His gaze remains tightly locked onto yours, not looking away.

“Fuck.” You murmur, more of a breathy plea as you feel his breath ghost over your cunt, slick with arousal. An imperceptible grin tugs at his lips as his fingers trace over your panties teasingly, a gentle caress to your clit sending shivers down your spine

His fingers deftly hook into the hem of your panties, tugging them down and off you. His eyes darken as he takes in the sight of you completely bare, and you squirm under his watchful gaze.

You swear you hear the word “stunning” escape his lips, though you don’t have any time to react as he teasingly lick a stripe up your slit. A strangled gasp escapes your lips, hands gripping the edge of the desk.

Tom could get drunk off the taste of you. He could happily stay there for days on end, buried between your legs. If ambrosia was a thing he was sure it had to be this because you tasted divine.

“Tom-“ You plead, a small moan escaping your lips as he laps at your centre, eyes fluttering shut.

His hands grip your thighs tightly, holding you in place as he devoured you with a hunger that bordered on primal. His tongue flicked and swirled at your clit, and your hips instinctively bucked up, a hand coming down to tangle in his gelled curls.

“Shit-“ You curse, your head lolling back as he continues his ministrations.

He pulls back for a short second, a smug smile tugging on his lips at your reaction. You tug on his hair a little harder, your chest heaving.

“You’re already on thin ice, Riddle.” You murmur under your breath.

He hums lightly, looking up at you with those illegal eyes as he gently strokes the skin of your upper thigh with his thumb.

Fuck, what a sight it was. Nothing could have prepared you for the image of the Tom Riddle buried between your legs, looking up at you. The Tom Riddle, kneeling before you. Like he was fucking worshipping you.

“Forgive me,” He mutters, if only to amuse you, as he wastes no time spreading your legs wider and burying his face into your cunt until you were seeing stars. He was almost feral, and there was a certain attractiveness to the desperation in his actions. He could happily spend his life nestled between your thighs,

He revels in the sight of your head thrown back, his cock straining against his trousers with every sweet sound that tumbles from your lips.

It’s as though the Riddle boy had been acquainted with your body before, knowing every little action that would drive you mad. From the way his fingers dug into the flesh of your thigh, to the way he sucked on your clit with the right amount of pressure, eliciting a strangled moan.

He didn’t shy away for a single second, ravishing your core with little to no shame. The sound of wet kisses fills the otherwise silent room, such a lewd noise you’d shy away if you went so high on pleasure.

You manage to lift your head slightly, one of the straps from your dress falling off your shoulder as you shakily try to prop yourself up on one arm. It’s no use though, for Tom shifts slightly and your eyes are rolling back in your head once again. Your head faintly thumps against the wall, back arching as you tug lightly at his curls.

“I- I’m gonna cu-” You choke out.

Tom’s lips curl into a predatory smile as he hears your desperate groans. He’s practically drunk on the taste of you, not wanting to waste a single second. No, you were like a drug to him, a dangerous thing that he could very easily see himself getting addicted to. Tom Riddle may have been many things, but he was still human (even if that was to his dismay), and humans were greedy, greedy things.

His movements become more urgent, if that was even possible, determined to witness you unravel beneath him. The coil in your stomach tightens, threatening to snap at any moment. You feel like you're on fire, like a live wire and Tom was only edging you on further and further.

Your moans came like a mantra to him, only fueling him on further until you were coming, crying out his name as your thighs unconsciously tightened around his head.

You had always heard the girls in your dorm discuss topics like sex when the night had come and they had assumed you were fast asleep. They had always described it as some sort of out-of-body experience, and you were sure they had to be exaggerating.

But now? You were ascending, practically seeing stars as your orgasm crashes over you in wave after relentless wave, reducing you down to a shaking mess. It couldn’t have just been the fact that someone was going down on you, it wasn’t your first time. Rather, it had to do with the person himself, who devoured you like you were his last meal, like he savoured every inch of you as a starved man does his first meal. And when he pulls back slightly, looking up at you with blown pupils, his tongue darting out to lick his lips, you knew it wasn’t just a sentiment on your behalf, no.

Tom had never seen a prettier sight. A more depraved part of him would want a picture as a keepsake, because the sight of you as an alluring mess, chest heaving, lips parted with your dress falling off your shoulder made him want to do nothing more than pin you down and fuck you until you couldn’t speak.

Perhaps for once, Tom did have the upper ground, the ache of his neglected cock almost torturous as he moves to rise. But the second he tries to, the tip of your pointed heel rests on the underside of his chin, prodding his head up to look at you.

“Do you really think you get to fuck me, Tom?” You say, voice surprisingly composed from someone who was practically convulsing mere seconds ago.

He can’t help the look of surprise that briefly flashes across his face. You tut, your voice mocking him in a saccharine manner that had him going mad.

“Aw. Poor thing. You really thought you’d have the chance?” You taunt, a devilish grin on your face as you move your heel. You sit up, still on the edge of the table as you cup Tom’s face in your hand. You force him to look up at you once more, and it’s more of a powerplay than anything else. Despite all that, he still goes along with it. He was devout to you, after all.

“You just about managed to make up for everything. But if you want to fuck me? Well, you’ll have to work a lot harder, Riddle.”

In any other situation, with any other girl, Tom would have been furious. Humiliated, even. But he’d never get on his knees for someone. Your words are cruel, yet he savours them like you’re the only person who matters.

Only when you move back slightly, as though a signal of permission, does he stand up. Part of him knows what’s going on, he could tell from the second his lips made contact with your upper thigh. You were all talk, enjoying the feeling of ‘power’. The second you got what you wanted, however, you were nothing but a whimpering, moaning mess. Tom only needed to go along with whatever you wanted until then.

He slowly rises, his eyes trained on yours. The second he does, his form towers over you, all lean muscle. The gods took their time with Tom, that’s for certain. His face was sculpted, all harsh lines and smooth porcelain skin. From the curve of his cheekbones to the sharpness of his jaw, one wouldn’t be surprised if Tom revealed he was sculpted by the hands of the Greeks and brought to life.

“Why did you not attempt to make peace with me earlier?” He questions, his hand coming to rest on your thigh. You do not push him away, and he suppresses the urge to push his luck further.

You scoff, your tone bordering sarcastic as you tilt your head.

“You weren’t exactly the most approachable, Tom. You looked at me as though I had slapped you when we first got selected for Head Boy and Girl.”

That can’t have been it. It couldn’t have, no. Tom had seen you charm older wizards who were too busy peering down your dress to pay attention to what you were saying mere minutes ago, and you weren’t deterred. There had to be something you were hiding, He could tell you weren’t going to give it up, though. Whatever it was, you wanted to keep it hidden. He sighs, raising a brow.

“I don’t bite, you know.” He quips, almost counting as a joke.

“Shame.” You hum.

Just when he thought he couldn’t be surprised by you any further, a low laugh escapes his lips as he shakes his head. He looks back at you, eyes immediately drawn to the way you fix your dress as you stand up.

Despite the warning bells ringing in his mind, he finds himself drawn to you like a moth to a flame, aware of the danger you pose yet unable to resist your pull. You are a tempest, a force of nature capable of tearing him apart, yet he remains willingly ensnared in your web, a stupid, stupid thing to do.

You knew too much, Far too much for Tom to just let you walk away. No carnal desire could be worth everything he’s worked for.

He contemplates it for a second, taking a small step forward. Just before he does, you speak and oh- there he goes. He never stood a chance, no, it’s quite sad.

“You’re not going to kill me, Tom.”

He falters. Had you read his mind?

No, he would have felt the legillimens. Besides, he had been occluding since his second year. It was practically second nature to him.

How did you know? And why did you seem so calm?

“What makes you think I’d do such a thing?” He says after a second, taking far too long to regain his composure.

His words seem far too calculated, lacking the usual venom that typically laced his retorts. Your calm demeanour only serves to unsettle him further, as if you hold all the cards in this game.

You simply shrug, not even bothering to look up as you smooth down the front of your dress. “I suppose it’s my intuition," you reply casually, though there's a glint of something more behind your words, something that sets off alarm bells in the back of his mind.

He studies you intently, searching for any hint of deception in your expression, but finds none. It's infuriating how you manage to keep him guessing, how you seem to effortlessly stay one step ahead of him at every turn.

He contemplates making you swear to secrecy, but then that would only confirm your beliefs. It would put him in a vulnerable position, one that allowed you to use him as leverage.

Perhaps he could obliviate you? No, Tom had not mastered the spell yet. He could either make you forget the last three minutes or the last three years, and there was no telling what it would be. It was far too risky, and you were too unpredictable.

"I don't trust you," he finally admits, his voice low and tinged with a mixture of caution and what seemed to be begrudging admiration.

You just smile, the corners of your lips quirking up in amusement. "Good," you say simply, your tone teasing. "Because trust is overrated, don't you think?"

Tom is unsure of what to do for the first time in his life. He looks at you, this threat who’s emerged out of nowhere. Perhaps an hour or so ago, you were simply his fellow Head student whom he hated dearly. Frighteningly clever, excellent all you did, yes, but dangerous? You had never held a conversation for more than 10 minutes, and now you were reading him like an open book.

You take his silence with great pleasure, walking past him as you move to leave the classroom. Your hand rests on the handle, twisting the knob open as you open the door. You turn back, only to find him still rooted to the spot, uncertainty flickering in his eyes. Your gaze lingers on him for a moment, taking in the sight of the formidable Tom Riddle looking so utterly perplexed.

With a knowing smile, you tilt your head slightly, as if silently daring him to make a move.

“See you, Riddle” You quip, your voice laced with a playful menace. You were taking far too much pleasure in riling the boy up, and the fact that he couldn't bring himself to do anything about it only angered him further.

Tom can’t help but wonder what it is about you that draws him in so completely, even as he seethes with anger at the mere thought of you.

And as the door swings shut behind you, he's left alone once more, grappling with the unsettling realization that you've managed to worm your way under his skin, becoming a thorn in his side that he knows he won't soon be able to rid himself of.

#slytherin #slytherin boys #tom riddle #harry potter #draco malfoy #lorenzo berkshire #slytherin boys fic #theodore nott #blaise zabini #pansy parkinson #tom riddle x you #tom riddle x y/n #tom riddle x reader #tom riddle fic #tom riddle smut

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