kiesrepostarchives

[kiesrepostarchives]

sweetheart!reader giving mattheo a handmade gift (like one of those cute d.i.y. ones) and shes all nervous to give it to him but its like the nicest thing anyone has ever gotten him :3

sweetheart!reader gives mattheo a gift

you're all so super telepathic because i have "mattheo gives sweetheart!reader a gift" in my drafts, thank you for the request angel <3

You knock on his door, shifting your weight between both your feet as you hold your hands behind your back.

Mattheo opens the door, already expecting you.

“Sweetheart.” He smirks, like it's a greeting.

“Hi.” You smile, tilting your head up to look at his eyes.

He doesn’t say anything beyond that - he doesn’t have to. He simply opens the door wider to let you in.

“How was your day?" He mumbles, arms wrapping around your waist, pulling you in.

"That's what I usually ask." You laugh, feeling floaty already from his presence.

"Sue me for copying you." He says, "You are a very inspiring conversationalist."

"It is one of my many qualities." You play along before you squeal when you remember why your hands are still behind your back.

“I made you something.” You say with a smile, he looks at you with a tilt of his head.

“Yeah?” He grins.

You hum, rolling your sleeves up to reveal four bracelets - a pearl bracelet you always wore, a silver bangle, a pink beaded bracelet with red hearts and a black one, which you slip off your wrist.

You hold it out to him and he furrows his eyebrows in confusion, not moving to take it.

“I made this for you.” You say cheerfully, he slowly moves to take it from you, eyeing it suspiciously.

“Have you never received a gift before?” You joke before your smile falls when he simply looks down at you with eyes that say 'more or less.'

It wasn't that he had never received a gift before, Theo - who was the only one who knew his birthday - always gave him a little something, whether it was book or a vintage lighter or a cologne. Technically his wand was a gift from his parents.

But this is different, he examines the bracelet, there’s an array of beads - silver, green and black - his favourite colours (though you’ve argued with him that black is not a colour) and a few pearls mixed it that match your own pearl bracelet.

It’s very unlike you but it is so him.

He can't remember the last time he's truly cried but as he thinks about you threading the beads together - carefully curating them to match him - he applauds himself internally for being so brave holding it together.

He doesn’t say anything, he can’t say anything, you take his silence for distaste.

“You don’t have to wear it!” You rush to say, “I was just in Hogsmeade the other day and I saw these in the bead store and I thought they were perfect, I know it’s not really your thing-”

He cuts you off with a kiss, one that you melt into very quickly.

“I really like it.” He says earnestly when he pulls away, he thinks about how much he really likes you.

Mattheo slips on the bracelet without another word.

You smile, your cheeks hurting with how wide your smile was.

“I never thought I’d see the day Mattheo Riddle wears a friendship bracelet.” You tease.

“Friendship bracelet,” He raises his eyebrows, “Is that what we are?”

He pulls your body flush against his, gazing down at you with his full focus.

You look up at him with wide eyes, your head spinning a little, he smirks at your reaction.

"I'm messing with you," he murmurs, his mouth inches away from yours before he leans in to kiss you.

You never expected him to like your present enough to wear it and you can't help but feel proud of yourself.

"I'm happy you like it." You mumble along his lips.

"I really do." He promises when he pulls away fully.

There's a pause of silence.

"How was your day?" You murmur, he laughs before kissing you again.

He wore his bracelet for the rest of the night and the day after that, then the entire week and if he never took it off after that, well, everyone was too scared to comment on it, anyway.

taglist: @fallingwallsh @espressqe @theodoresvalentine @fanfictiononly4 @genuinelyfloatingsouls @fayezasstuff @glittervame @wxnterwidow333 @thalibaby @cminoko @blainea98 @randomfanpage

[kiesrepostarchives]

HERE ME OUTTT, theo and draco's little sister who's been sheltered and maybe a little too loved by her family for her whole life. like hello? them being promised to each other since birth, it took a while but theo starts calling her his little fiance around school 😭

ღ my fiancée

Pairing: fiance!theo x malfoy!reader Word Count: 919 WordsSummary: You’ve spent your life being Draco Malfoy’s baby sister — protected, pampered, and promised to Theodore Nott since childhood. It’s never felt real… until Theo starts calling you his fiancée around school, and you realize he’s not joking. Warnings: Light teasing, overprotective!draco, angst, emotional confusion, familial expectations, arranged marriage, not proofread, let me know if i missed anything! A/N: sincere apologies because it took me too long to post today—i fell off a motorcycle lmao.

♫ invisible string by taylor swift.

You'd been called a lot of things at Hogwarts — princess, Malfoy's little sister, too polite to be a Slytherin. None of it ever really bothered you.

Being Draco's younger sister came with its own gravitational pull. People either bowed to the family name or avoided you like you were dipped in dark magic. Either way, you were never given the chance to just be.

Except around Theo.

Theodore Nott had always been there. At family gatherings, at summer dinners, standing silently at Draco's side since you were both children. Where Draco was loud and proud, Theo was quiet, watchful — never cruel, never unkind.

He was just... always watching.

You didn't realize how closely until sixth year.

It started with a rumor.

Someone had whispered in the corridor outside Charms, not even subtle about it.

"Did you hear? Nott calls her his fiancée now."

You'd almost dropped your ink pot.

When you confronted him, red-faced and wide-eyed, he just looked at you with that maddening smirk and said, "What? It's true. Don't look so scandalized, little fiancée."

You choked on your own tongue.

He did it again at breakfast two days later.

You were pouring tea when he slid into the seat beside you and drawled, "Careful, princess. Can't have my future wife scalding herself before our wedding night."

Draco snapped his head around so fast you heard the crack. Theo just sipped his tea.

It became a thing.

Casual, flippant references — "My betrothed," "My darling girl," "Future Mrs. Nott, don't forget your quill" — all with the smoothness only Theo could pull off.

You didn't know how to react.

You'd known about the arrangement. Of course you had. Your parents had teased you both about it since you were ten, usually after dessert and a few too many goblets of wine.

But it had never felt real. Just a fancy future wrapped in pureblood politics and outdated customs.

Until Theo started walking you to class.

Until he brushed your hand with his fingers every time he passed you a scroll, every touch deliberate.

Until you caught him staring across the common room with something dark and fond in his eyes.

It was all too much.

And somehow not nearly enough.

Draco cornered him first.

You found out because Pansy, ever the gossip, whispered about it between pages of Witch Weekly.

"Your brother nearly hexed Theo in the corridor by the Astronomy Tower," she said, chewing her licorice wand. "He said something about knowing exactly what Theo's playing at."

You tried not to let it show, but it did. Theo noticed.

He always noticed.

That evening, you fled to the greenhouse, needing space to think.

You shouldn't have been surprised when he found you there.

You heard the door creak open but didn't turn around. You were seated on the edge of a stone bench, watching the enchanted vines ripple under moonlight.

"I'm not stalking you, if that's what you're thinking," Theo said, voice low and amused. "Draco would kill me."

You didn't look at him. "You shouldn't joke about it."

He walked around to face you anyway, hands in his pockets, dark hair slightly messy from the wind. His tie was loose. His gaze wasn't.

"I don't joke about you."

Your heart did something painful in your chest.

"Then what are you doing?" you asked, finally looking up at him. "All the teasing, the names—are you trying to embarrass me? Humiliate me in front of the entire school?"

He blinked. "Is that what you think?"

You stood, crossing your arms. "I think you've had your fun."

A long silence. Then, softer: "I think I've been in love with you for longer than I know how to say. And I think calling you my fiancée is the only way I know how to protect what I feel without ruining it."

You froze.

Theo took a step closer.

"I don't care about the arrangement. I would've chosen you anyway. Even if we'd met as strangers. Even if you weren't Draco's sister or the girl who always reads at breakfast or the only person who ever asked if I wanted seconds at Sunday dinner."

You swallowed, throat tight.

"I said those things because they were true," he said. "And I thought maybe—just maybe—you'd want them to be true too."

Your voice was barely a whisper. "I didn't think you wanted me."

His expression softened — all the teasing melted away. He reached out, fingers curling around yours.

"I don't just want you," he murmured. "I've been yours. Quietly. Always."

Your fingers tightened in his.

"You called me your fiancée in front of everyone," you said, blushing.

He smiled. "They should know."

"And what if I want to be something more than a name?"

"You already are."

He leaned in slowly, giving you time to pull away.

You didn't.

His lips were warm and gentle against yours, the kind of kiss that felt like a promise.

When he pulled back, your forehead rested against his.

"You really mean it?" you whispered. "This isn't just a game?"

"No games," he said softly. "Just you. And me. And the fact that I plan to make you mine whether the contract says so or not."

The next morning, the Great Hall went quiet when Theo slid onto the bench beside you and dropped a soft kiss to your cheek.

Draco nearly spat his pumpkin juice across the table.

Theo just smirked.

"Morning, fiancée."

You didn't blush this time.

You kissed his cheek right back.

taglist !

@belovedenzo

© dracosprettygirl.tumblr 2025. do not copy, translate or claim any of my works as your own. reblogs & comments are greatly appreciated & motivating!

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sweetheart!reader is tipsy at a party... mattheo comes to the rescue

content warning: underage drinking, mentions of reader being drunk

thank you to the anon who gave me this idea <3 here's a look into situationship!mattheo !! also gilmore girls/jess mariano reference because i love him

You're chatting and giggling away at Theo in a secluded corner of the loud Slytherin party, you're two drinks in and much more than a little tipsy.

"It's, like, you don't even understand how sad it is," your hands are moving around wildly, matching your wide, impassioned eyes as you continued to ramble, "Jess was literally perfect for her when he got older 'cause he, like, totally matured! You know? He convinced her to go back to Yale and he read books!"

Theo nods along from his place on the couch, his eyes following your movements as you pace in front of him, he's only half following what you're slurring together, before he catches the eye of his friend.

Mattheo walks over until he's only a few inches behind you.

"Sweetheart." Mattheo calls, you turn around to see him standing behind you with his arms crossed over his chest.

"Matty!" She giggles, practically jumping into his, now open, arms.

"Your girlfriend's a lightweight." Theo muses.

"M'not his girlfriend." She pouts.

"Not yet." He corrects, making her beam. He didn't like to give false hope but he knew she most likely wouldn't remember this by tomorrow morning.

As he watched her sway, balancing in her chunky high heels, he wasn't sure she would remember most of this in five minutes.

He turns his attention to Theo. "How much has she had to drink?"

"Not too much, like I said, lightweight." Theo laughs, "I was watching her 'till you came, figured you'd be worried."

You were too enamoured by the hem of Mattheo's shirt to hear what Theo was saying.

"Thanks, man." He says, there's a beat of silence filled only by your quiet giggles at nothing, "Well, I'm here now."

"And! That's my cue to leave." He stands from the couch.

"Bye Sweetheart!" He waves goodbye to you like a kindergarten teacher would to a child, bending a little to the height of your slightly slumped over form. Mattheo nods as a sort of farewell and you wave your fingers absentmindedly, still focused on Mattheo's clothes.

Mattheo turns to you, again, and gently guides you to the couch.

"Your eyes are so sparkly." You murmur, bringing a hand up to his face clumsily.

"Sparkly?" He asks, amused.

"Yeah, it's like there's glitter in it." You say, giggling more, "I love glitter."

He laughs, you attempt to scowl.

"Don't laugh." You whine, "M'trying to flirt."

At least some things never change.

"Well, then, thank you, Sweetheart." Mattheo said, "I think your eyes are sparkly as well."

You squealed at the compliment, too drunk to keep your reactions inside where they were usually kept.

"Matty, Matty, Matty." You call suddenly, tugging on his arm.

"Yes, Sweetheart." He says patiently, putting one hand on top of yours to settle her down.

"I love y-" your words muffle when he puts a finger on top of her lips, you make a sound of protest.

"Shh, you can't say it yet."

"Why not?"

"Because I want you to remember the first time you say it." He says, "I want you to mean it."

You’re too tipsy to understand what he means by that so you simply look up at him with your wide heart eyes.

“You’re so fucking cute.” He says, squinting his eyes at you.

You smile at the compliment, it reminds him of sunshine and sugar.

Your head lolls and Mattheo reaches out, like an instinct, to stabilise it.

"Careful." He murmurs, "You're gonna have to keep that head steady there, Pretty Girl."

"Can't." You mumble, eyes fluttering close, "too heavy."

You lean closer him, at least, you try to. You lay all your body weight on him and almost fall before he catches you with one arm wrapped around you and a laugh.

You gaze up at him, doe eyes all glassy, before pressing a chaste kiss to his cheek.

“You’re really nice to me.”

"Well, you're very lovable, you make it easy." He boops your nose once prompting you to giggle again.

"No, m'serious, you're always playing all tough guy around everyone else but you're very, very nice to me."

“You think so?” He asks, with an eyebrow raised.

“Yeah, if I didn’t know any better, I’d think you liked me.” You giggle, flirting shamelessly.

Oh, you have no idea.

taglist: @fallingwallsh @espressqe @theodoresvalentine @fanfictiononly4 @genuinelyfloatingsouls if your name is crossed out, it’s cause tumblr won’t let me tag you :(

[kiesrepostarchives]

more sweetheart!reader with mattheo

You’re sitting on the chair next to Mattheo, a chair that once belonged to Theodore Nott who was now sitting off to the side with Enzo and Blaise as they watched you lean all your body weight on the hand that rested on Mattheo's desk.

"Did you do something different with your hair?" You ask, peering up at him through your eyelashes.

"Hmm?" He looks down at you.

"Your hair, it looks a bit different." You watch in adoration as he runs his fingers through his hair, only for his curls to fall perfectly back in place.

"Good different?" He smirks.

"Very good different." You say quickly, making him laugh.

The two of you don't hear Theo, Blaise and Enzo snickering at them a few seats away.

"That is a girl in love." Pansy says, frowning at her friend, “It's almost hard to watch."

"Mattheo is going to break the poor girl's heart." Blaise says, always amused.

“I wouldn’t be so sure.” Theo chuckles, "the other day, I was talking about this movie and he casually says 'yn loves that movie'."

"So? That's normal. By now, they’re friends, aren't they?" Enzo asks, Theo rolls his eyes.

"Okay, first of all, Mattheo isn't friends with girls." He points to Pansy. "Unless they're his friends' girlfriends or whatever."

Pansy grins, and throws her feet on Blaise's lap.

"And secondly, Mattheo knew her favourite. movie." Theo emphasises.

The group nod and gasp in agreement.

“You’re kidding! I’ve known him for 3 years and he still can’t remember my birthday!” Enzo complains.

“Sorry, Enzo, you’re not his girl.” Blaise snickers.

"Should we be worried that they can hear us?" They turn their attention to the pair sitting a couple seats away.

You were in a fit of giggles over something Mattheo was saying, his entire presence making you giddy. Their focus was set on you two, your focus was set on each other.

"Yeah, I don't think we have to worry about that."

to the two people who sent me asks - they’re in my drafts!! coming so soon, i promise. i have so many drafts of situationship!mattheo i might just skip this awkward “friends” stage

[kiesrepostarchives]

[kiesrepostarchives]

Model

Mattheo Riddle x Reader

Warnings: Like one dirty comment

You knew Mattheo a little from classes. You shared a few here and there throughout the years and would talk when you were sat next to each other. You wouldn’t exactly classify him as a friend, more like an acquaintance. You, of course, knew his reputation-the fights and drinking and smoking, being the Dark Lord’s son. It wasn’t exactly good and pure. Yet he was always kind to you when you spoke, making jokes to make you laugh. You didn’t exactly see him as this purely evil boy that people make him out to be. Sure, he got into fights and did things he wasn’t supposed to, but don’t most guys do that anyways?

You noticed a lot of things about him, just from observing him. Things like he preferred sweets over anything else, he always loaded his coffee with sugar and creamer, he befriended some of the animals around Hogwarts like the stray cats and crows, anytime he got new converse, he would draw on them the first day. None of these things exactly screamed “evil” to you.

The one thing you never noticed about him though, would be in the classes that you did have together that you were apart from each other in, he would draw you. He liked how focused you looked in class as you took notes. He liked how the pen looked in your hands. He liked how your legs looked, especially the softness of your thighs when you sat down. He liked the little bit of your chest he could see when you unbuttoned the top buttons of your shirt when it was too hot. He liked how soft your hair looked and the small strands that fell whenever you’d put your hair up. He liked how you’d pull the school robe around you whenever you got cold in class. He liked you.

So, instead of focusing on class, he would sketch you. It could be your hands, or your face, or the back of your head, or your legs when you crossed them under the desk. Whatever he could see or whatever caught his attention the most. 

His friends would joke around and call him creepy or a stalker, but he just thought you were too beautiful not to draw. How could he not when you just looked so…he had no words to really describe how he thought. Beautiful was okay. Gorgeous, maybe. Ethereal? Yeah, that would be the closest he could get to how he felt.

“You know, you could easily be a model.” Mattheo said as he was sat across the desk from you in one of your classes, his head resting in his hand as he looked at you.

You blushed and smiled. “Thanks, but I’m not sure about that.” You said, looking up from your work to look at him.

“Why not?”

You shrugged. “I don’t think I’m that pretty.”

He raised his eyebrows. That was just absurd to him. “Would you mind modeling for me anyways? I’d like practice drawing from a live model.” He asked, biting back the urge to tell you how wrong you were.

“You wanna draw me?” You asked with a bit of amusement and disbelief.

“I’d like to try something new rather than just drawing nature.” He said, and it was a half lie. It definitely wasn’t new to draw you, but it would be new to draw you posing for him.

“I suppose I can do that. What’s in it for me?” You asked, tilting your head with a small, teasing smile.

“My company.” He smiled back, just as teasingly.

“And what makes you think I would want that?”

“Who doesn’t? I mean, look at me.” He leaned back in his seat and gestured to himself.

You shook your head and rolled your eyes. “You’re such an idiot.”

“Not a ‘no’, though.”

“How about you get me some butter beer next time we’re at Hogsmeade and you got a deal?” You say, leaning back in your seat and crossing your arms over your chest.

“Are you proposing a date with me, Miss (Y/L/N)?” He teased, his smile growing.

“No, simply saying you owe me, Mr, Riddle.”

“Deal.” He said just as class ended. “Meet me tomorrow after breakfast in the courtyard, yeah?”

“Okay.” You said as you both were putting away your things. “See you then.” You shot him a smile as you stood up and left the classroom.

The next day was Saturday, so there were no classes. You ate breakfast in the Great Hall before heading out to the courtyard and spotted Mattheo standing under the tree. He was smoking, but immediately put it out as soon as he saw you walking towards him.

“Smoking this early?” You asked teasingly.

“Yeah, yeah. I know the speech. It'll kill me, I should stop, find another outlet.” He said sarcastically.

“Am I that predictable?” You joked, smiling at him as you stopped just a couple of feet away from him.

“How about you drop the sass and just sit here and look pretty for me?” He cocked his head, challenging you.

“So bossy. You're gonna draw me out here?” You asked, looking around.

“Best lighting here this time of day.” He said. “You're not backing out on me now, are you?” 

“I didn't say that. Where would you like me?” You said as you looked back at him.

“Here.” He gestured to one of the stone arches where you could sit.

You sat down on the arch, crossing your legs. “How would you like me?”

He tilted his head as he stared at you for a moment. “Lean back on your hands.” He said as he sat down a little away from you.

You leaned back on your hands, otherwise not changing anything else. “Like that?”

“Yeah.” He nodded as he grabbed his sketchbook from his bag. “Now just sit and look pretty for me.” He gave you a cheeky smile before starting to draw you.

You sat there for a few moments, just letting him draw before speaking up. “You know, when you asked me to model for you, I thought you were gonna try sneaking in some way to get me naked.”

“I was gonna work my way up. Earn your trust.” He said playfully, smirking as he glanced up at you.

You took a pinecone next to you and threw it at him, just grazing his arm, before getting back in the pose.

“Hey! I was joking!” He laughed, brushing the dirt from the pinecone off of his sleeve. “Though, I definitely won't complain if you did wanna pose naked for me.”

“You're disgusting.” You shot back in a teasing manner.

“Okay, okay, I'll leave it alone.” He said before going back to drawing. “Now sit still.”

“Demanding.” You muttered.

“You know, most models don't talk when they're being drawn.”

“Is that your way of telling me to stop talking?”

“I was trying to be subtle.”

“Rude.” You muttered again and he gave you a playful glare, but made no further comment.

You let him draw you in silence from there, minus his quiet mutters to himself. He loved being able to look at you with an excuse, he loved admiring all the small details-any scars, freckles, moles-all the imperfections that he thought made you look perfect.

He finally finished, looking between you and the drawing, making sure he got everything.

“Alright, I'm done. You wanna see it?” He asked, giving you a moment to stretch.

“Yeah, let's see it.” You said as you stood up, walking over to him.

He turned his sketchbook around towards you, looking just a little sheepish.

“Woah.” You took the sketchbook from him to get a better look. “Are you sure this is me? This person is way too beautiful.” You chuckled.

“That's how I see you.” He shrugged, trying to make it seem like it's not a big deal.

“You think I'm this pretty?” You asked, looking up at him now.

“I don't think I could ever do you justice, if I'm honest.” He admitted, the slightest blush dusting his cheeks. That was so embarrassing to admit for him.

“You mean that?” You asked softly.

“Yeah.” He said and stood up. “I, um…I’ve always thought you were pretty. Well, ‘pretty’ doesn’t even begin to cover how I think.” He gave you a cute, but embarrassed smile, rubbing the back of his neck as the blush deepened.

You could feel your own face heat up. “Well, I think you did a really good job with the drawing. This definitely does me justice.” You said, turning your attention back to the drawing.

“I could always use more practice, you know.” He said, not looking away from you.

“Are you asking me to model for you again?” You asked, eyes flicking back up to him.

“Yeah.”

You smiled, looking back at the drawing for a second before looking back at him. “Fine, but that means you’ll owe me two butter beers.”

“I guess I can do that.” His smile widened.

Taglist:

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@yours-truly-5 @hpnsfwaddict @mayamonroem @brittney-121 @leovaldezsbitch

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My heartttt

Kiss It Better?

Theodore Nott x Fem!Slytherin Reader

CW: Blood is kind of vividly described, slightly obsessed/dirty minded Theo

Theo entered the Great Hall grumbling.

He sat down grumbling.

And he glared at his utensils grumbling.

You share a look with Pansy, curious and amused, "Theo? What s'a matter?" you ask, leaning in to speak quietly.

The smooth, albeit grumpy italian falling from his lips trails into silence as he glances at your shared friends, unsure whether or not he was willing to tell you - and realistically speaking, the others - about the frankly humiliating situation that had him in such a foul mood.

He knew he was probably being dramatic, but he'd never fucked up like he had this time, and a part of him was deeply - though probably unreasonably -embarassed."Tell you later" he mumbles, his right hand picking up his fork as he stabs at the beans on his plate.

He ignores the questioning looks of the others, the stinging, and most of the loud conversations in the great hall as he keeps his left hand firmly beneath the table, wiping blood on the low hem of his white uniform shirt. He'd never cared much for it anyway, this way he had a reason to wear something other than the stuffy hogwarts shirts in the hot classrooms.

So perhaps there was somewhat of a silverlining to the situation he found himself in.

Eventually, students begin to trickle out of the Great Hall and towards their prefect or head duties, or their common rooms - You and Theodore amongst them - he hesitates as you both enter the slytherin common room, gently grasping your wrist and leading you up to your own dorm. Your first aid kit never stung as much as his, perhaps because you got the good products, and none of them were expired, which he wasn't particularly aching to hear about the riviting affects of not taking proper care of his bumps and scrapes for a third time this month.

He also really didn't want you questioning the flowers tossed (delicately placed) alongside the thin drips of red against his green covers.

"Theo?" you mumble, letting him lead you along as he continues hiding his left hand from your view. He doesn't answer, stopping only to drop your wrist and open your dorm door, you allow him to tug you wordlessly into your dorms bathroom, repating yourself.

"Teddy?"

He groans, reluctantly showing you his hand, blood dripping down his fingertips from the mean cut along the back of his pointer and middle fingers, he'd bled a decent bit, but the drips were more of an occasional trickle of red against his tan skin. "I.. fuck- I got distracted dethorning roses in herbology" he mumbles, refusing to meet your eyes as you guide his fingers over the sink, running a gentle stream of warm water over his bloodied fingers, the watery red dripping down your palm as he watches, something about it making his jaw tick.

"Why were you dethorning roses? I thought you were meant to be trimming venemous tentacula?"

For you.

For your halloween - or, really autumn solstice - ball outfit you'd been mentioning to Pansy that morning at breakfast.

That's exactly what he didn't say.

Couldn't say.

"I did, and then I got bored" he grumbles, itallian accent thick as he winces, watching you clean out the jagged marks along his fingers with your own before gently drying them off. The bleeding has entirely stopped now, but it still stings terribly as you disinfect them, getting ready to place two fresh bandaids over them. He pulls back his hand slightly, and it makes you pause.

"Do you want me to kiss them? So they get better?" you ask quietly, your fingers tacing his palm soothingly.

He swallows the lump in his throat, his baby brown eyes dropping to your lips.

"That works?" he nearly croaks. Fuck - if Mattheo could see him now he'd have a fit. Maybe he'd laugh so hard he'd choke and die so Theo wouldn't have to kill him for it.

You nod softly, gently tugging at his sleeve. "Mhm, my mum used to do it when I was little" you tilt your head.

"Yeah, s'alright then" he grumbles, just trying not to sound like he was about to lose his mind over the fact she was going to fucking kiss it better.

Shit, maybe he should ask Mattheo to punch him in the dick.

You press gentle kisses to both cuts, wrapping bandaids around his fingers after.

"All better" you hum, smiling up at him.

He nods stiffly, his newly fixed up hand tangling into your hair as he guides your head to his chest in a hug. "Thanks, doc, 'nything else I gotta do?" he mumbles, mostly joking. He'd do anything for you, maybe that was a part of the reason he was so fucked in the head, 'cause he couldn't get you out of it.

"Mh, just be careful, Teddy" you huff, and he has to hold back a groan. He had to leave before you called him that again, before you said anything that would make him want to drag you to your bed and make you ruin your sheets.

"I will, I gotta go meet Mattheo, love" he lies through his teeth. He needs a smoke before he goes fucking crazy. He places a lingering kiss to the top of your head before bidding you goodnight and leaving the girls dorms.

There wasn't a lot of things you loved more than your friends, but perhaps the way Theodores low murmur of italian slips through his lips against your forehead could be one of them.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He's driving himself fucking mad, the memory of your lips against his ripped open skin replaying in his mind like a fucking charmed camera had snapped in his brain at the perfect moment.

His knee bounces quickly as he sits with Mattheo and Draco, blowing through cigarettes like they're candy straws. You'd given him candy straws once - muggle ones he'd split with you. He'd taken the lemon, cherry, and blue raspberry ones and you'd kept the rest.

"Fucking hell, spit it out- before you drive us up the wall with you" Draco mumbles, flicking his cigarette butt over the side of the astronomy tower, and it makes him glare. You didn't like when people did that, it was why he stopped.

"I can't get her outta my fuckin' head" Theodore breathes, inhaling the poison into his lungs near desperately. Mattheo smirks, distracted by the few people millng about the ground below, "what's new?" he breathes, exhaling the smoke in his own lungs.

Theos knee stops bouncing as a wild, stupid, fucking genious idea slipped into his mind.

"Draco, I need you to do somethin'" Theo sits up, flicking his cigarette onto the floor and stepping on it before exhaling the last of the addictive smoke.

The boy in question groans, "fuckin' depends. what." he snaps, and a cheeky smirk tugs at Theos lips.

"Punch me in the mouth."Mattheo sits up, looking oddly like he'd struck gold as he inhales.

"What the fuck? Why?" Draco scoffs, and Mattheos eyes widen in a near giddy excitment.

"'Cause Theo's a fuckin' freak that knows if he goes to Y/n she'll kiss it all better" Mattheo taunts. Draco raises an amused brow as Theo shrugs noncommitally.

"You sure?" Draco muses, and Theo can only shrug again. Draco and Mattheo share a look and suddenly Mattheo's on his feet, brown eyes wild with excitement.

"How hard?" he grins and Theo follows suit, tugging off his sweater, leaving him in dark jeans and a white t-shirt.

"As long as I bleed, I don't fucking care"

Mattheo cracks his knuckles."How many times?"

"Twice."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The second you saw Theo you were on your feet and practically running to his side, much to his obvious delight as you examine his split lip and the bleeding cut along to bridge of his nose. "Teddy, what happened?" you ask, worried, as your thumb traces the bruising around the cut on his nose.

He tips his head down, pretending that the way he presses his cheek into your palm is an accident as he 'reacts' to the light pressure you're appyling to his (very, very, hurt - if you asked) nose.

His eyes flicker to Mattheo for barely a moment, and he has to bite harshly at his lower lip to keep himself from smirking, the familiar metal taste flooding his tongue.

"Just an argument, ragazza dolce" (sweet girl) he nearly coos the nickname, and you don't know what it means, but it makes you flush a subtle pink nonetheless.

"Can you fix me up, love? Hurts" he grumbles, practically chewwing on his split lower lip as you take his hand. He intertwines your fingers as he lets you lead him up to your bathroom this time.

He leans against the edge of the counter, spreading his legs for you to stand between as you tip his chin down so you can properly fix up his nose.

He waits patiently for you to clean his nose, gluing it up and applying the thin white strips of whatever properly. He never took as much care of himself as you do, that's why he goes to you. He loves how much you care - loves watching the worried way your teeth tug at you own lip whenever he winces. It's never as bad as it looks, not that he'd ever tell you that.

You move to begin on his lip and he leans down slightly, gazing at her warmly, "c'mon love.. not gonna kiss this one better? S'hurting" he mumbles, and you can't help but mumur an apology as his hands find their way around your lower back to press you just slightly closer to his chest as he dips his head to allow you to lightly kiss the cut along his nose.

He knows he's being greedy when his hands fall to the backs of your thighs and knead at the skin as your fingers gently clean his bleeding lip, and when his eyes watch your teeth chewing on your lip he knows asking you to bite his instead would be too much for such a sweet, worried, thing like you.

The last thing he wants is to spook his angel, but when you lift his chin slightly to double-check your work, he can't help the faux-innocent pout on his lips and the pleading gaze he doesn't have to fake.

"Not gonna kiss this one better?" he mumbles, and the butterflies in your stomach melt into a violent stampede urging you to do as he asks, no matter what he wanted.

He hums, leaning close enough for his nose to bump against yours playfully, "s'not gonna heal if you don't, y'know" he teases quietly, and your eyes meet his. They're dark in this lighting, or perhaps it has something to do with the way you could imagine your own skin bruising if he grips your legs any harder.

Something in the chocolate brown softens as you hesitate, and you see your Theodore, the one that listens to what people say and doesn't bother to ask if someone needs help - just doing it for them. Your Theo that has only let you call him teddy for as long as you can remember and who listens to quiet music with you, and doesnt complain when you talk endlessly about whatever had captured your attention that week. Your Theo that stopped smoking in class and throwing his cigarette butts anywhere except into bins, and always let you wear his spare quidditch jersey when the weather is less than stellar, and who was there for you when your ex cheated in fourth year and hasn't let himself leave your side since.

"Please?" he murmurs, and realize that, somehow, you've never been more comfortable with anyone than you are when you're with Theo. He's sweet, and funny, and you've always thought perhaps you could live in the way his clothes smell when you borrow them.

You've always thought of your best friend as safe, the warmth from him when he let his arm rest over the back of your chair, and the way he places his palm against your hip to guide you out of the path of excitable first years or redheads with matches and fireworks nearly tumbling from their pockets.

He feels like he could live forever in the moment your lips brush the dull sting on his, his fingers winding their way into your hair as he kisses you properly, his other hand cupping your cheek so sweetly it makes your knees go weak.

It's unbelieveably soft, nothing like the way he kisses the girls at parties, this kiss is important to him. He wants you to want to kiss him again, so lets himself slow down. It's the first time he's ever cared enough to want to.

His lips trace yours, and a metalic taste seeps into your mouth as you part your lips.

He only kisses you deeper, hating himself for needing to breathe when he pulls away, he could die breathless on your lips and it would be the one thing he'd never regret - not even if he got the chance.

His thumb follows, sweeping over your lips, collecting the messy red he left there and sweetly tracing, rubbing it into your lips like lipstick, his touch never forceful as blood drips down his chin.

He lets you clean him up again in silence, and when you're done for the second time, he smiles down at you, his hands thumbs tracing lines on your hips.

"Hey" you meet his eyes, bright, and so Teddy you almost can't stop yourself from smiling back.

Almost.

You smile at him anyway.

He nearly melts, like he was Draco when Hermione kissed him in sixth year.

Mattheo would laugh at him for this too, but Theo would simply wait until the H/R/S/G Mattheo was scaring himself falling for smiled at him for the first time after their first kiss.

"Are you sure that first 'get better' kiss worked?" he asks, and you know he's asking if you would ever want to kiss him again.

"I don't think so" you whisper, leaning up to gently place a short kiss to his split lip.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It's too hot to bother playing quidditch as everyone sits together in the middle of the grassy pitch, nobody had expected for the last day of summer to be this hot - not when it had already started cooling into autumn, but nobody was complaining about the break from winds in corridors just cold enough to make you shiver as it crept up sleeves and skirts and under woolen jumpers.

Theos arm was around your shoulders, unlabed but each others, as he places a flower crown of dried red roses and pressed rosemary leaves into your lap.

"What's this?" you muse, gently picking it up and admiring it, how he'd crafted it was brilliant, a permenant sticking charm keeping the flowers and leaves together on a rose vine.

"That is why I was dethorning roses" he mumbles into your ear, pressing a soft kiss to your temple through your hair.

"For your autumn solstice ball dress" he adds, nuzzling his nose into your cheek to make you laugh.

"Thank you, Teddy" you smile, and he hums, "always, amore" he mumbles, placing his chin on your shoulder. "You'll go with me, won't you? To the dance?" he mumbles.

You smile, "I thought you weren't going?" you tease, and you feel his shoulders move in an unbothered shrug.

"If you're there, I'm there" he grumbles softly.

You might not have been his first anything, but you were the first one that mattered, and that'll never change.

[kiesrepostarchives]

𝙢𝙖𝙩𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙤 𝙧𝙞𝙙𝙙𝙡𝙚 𝙭 𝙛𝙤𝙤𝙙 𝙨𝙚𝙣𝙨𝙞𝙩𝙞𝙫𝙚! 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧

headcanons of mattheo with a reader who has food sensitivities.

warnings: none! just mattheo being a great bf.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

⟡ ݁₊ .even before you ever mention your food sensitivities, mattheo picks up on your eating habits. he notices when you push certain foods around on your plate or hesitate before taking a abite.

⟡ ݁₊ .at first, he assumes you're just picky, but when he realizes it's a legitimate issue, he takes it seriously.

⟡ ݁₊ .despite not being the most studious person, mattheo goes out of his way to learn about your food sensitivities. he actually visits the library (shocking, really) and asks you subtle questions about what is safe for you to eat, pretending he's making conversation

⟡ ݁₊ .whenever you're in the great hall, hogsmeade, or just even having snacks with the slytherin boys, mattheo subtly (or not so subtly) checks the ingredients before you take a bit. if he's unsure, he'll either taste it first or make theo and enzo do it.

⟡ ݁₊ ."hey, try this. if you don't die. i'll let her eat it."

⟡ ݁₊ .the first time you went to the three broomsticks together, you were too shy to send your food back when they got your order wrong. mattheo, however, had no problem stepping it.

⟡ ݁₊ ."oi, she asked for no meat. fix it."

⟡ ݁₊ .after that, he started ordering for you to make sure it was done right.

⟡ ݁₊ .mattheo always has snacks in his pocket (boy is always hungry), but when he realizes how often you struggle to find something safe to eat, he starts carrying the ones he knows you can have.

⟡ ݁₊ .if someone asks, he'll roll his eyes and grumble about how you'd "probably forget to eat without him," but secretly, he likes taking care of you.

⟡ ݁₊ .if anyone dares to comment on your food sensitivities- whether it's a rude joke or an ignorant remark- mattheo is not having it.

⟡ ݁₊ ."oh, i'm sorry, did you want to spend the next week coughing up slugs? no? then shut the fuck up."

⟡ ݁₊ .one day, he gets the idea to surprise you by cooking something he knows is safe for you. the result? a complete disaster.

⟡ ݁₊ .the kitchen is a mess, something is definitely burnt, and he might have started a small fire. but the fact that he tried makes your heart melt.

⟡ ݁₊ .even though he's not usually detail- oriented, mattheo becomes hyper aware of cross contamination when it comes to your food. he'll side- eye the house elves like, "if she gets sick, i'm coming back here and flipping every single table."

⟡ ݁₊ .he never makes a big deal out of your food sensitivities in front of others, but if anyone dismisses them or pressures you to "just try it," he'll shut it down immediately.

⟡ ݁₊ ."she said no, move on."

⟡ ݁₊ .he acts all nonchalant about it, but deep down, mattheo loves being the one who looks after you. making sure you have food that won't make you sick? just another way to show he cares.

⟡ ݁₊ .and if that means intimidating a few waiters or hexing someone who makes a rude comment, well- so be it.

[kiesrepostarchives]

𝙇𝙤𝙨𝙩 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙁𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙙 (𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙧𝙞𝙗𝙗𝙤𝙣𝙨)

summary: Mattheo and his friends find you surrounded by first-years tying ribbons in your ears.

characters: slytherin boys. bunny! reader (animagus)

warnings: none! just some scary slytherins with their bunny.

word count: 596

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

Mattheo had lost you

Technically, they had lost you. But since he was the one who had let you out of his sight first, he was taking the blame.

"You had one job, Mattheo," Theo muttered, running a hand through his hair. "One job!"

"You were watching her too, mate." Mattheo shot back, scanning the hallways of Hogwarts. "She was right there a second ago!"

"She's a bunny, she's small, she's fast," Enzo reasoned. "She couldn't have gotten far."

Draco signed. "Unless a bloody cat got to her first."

Blaise frowned. "Not helping, Malfoy."

It wasn't unsual for you to slip away in you animagus form- it was cute, they had to admit. A small, fluffy bunny hopping around, nose twitching, ears flickering at the smallest sound. But this was different. You had vanished.

"She's got to be somewhere in the castle," Mattheo said, shaking his head. "She always stays inside."

Theo groaned. "I swear, if we don't find her in the next ten minutes, I'm putting a tracking spell on her."

They turned down another corridor, checking corners, under benches, even behind a suit of armor. Then, just as Mattheo was about to start panicking, Enzo let out a sudden laugh.

"Oh, you're going to love this." He pointed ahead.

There in the middle of the hallway, was a small circle of first- year girls. They were giggling excitedly, whispering to each other, completely oblivious to the group of older Slytherins approaching.

And right in the center of them was... you.

In bunny form.

With ribbons being tied behind your ears.

Mattheo stared. Draco blinked. Blaise covered his mouth, holding back a laugh.

"Oh, that's precious," Theo smirked

One of the first- years clapped her hands. "She's so soft!"

'And she's letting us dress her up!" another squealed.

Mattheo cleared his throat loudly. The girls jumped, turning to face the group of tall, intimidating Slytherins.

"Uh- hello," one of them said nervously.

"That's our bunny," Mattheo said flatly, crossing his arms.

The girls looked between each other, then down at you. You twitched your nose.

"But she came up to us," one of the girls mumbled, hesitantly stroking your fur.

Theo raised a brow. "Yeah, she does that. But we kind of need her back."

Reluctantly, the first-years untied the ribbons, though one of them gave you a soft pat on your head before stepping back. Mattheo crouched down, holding out his arms.

"Alright, sweetheart, time to come back now.

You hesitated for a second, then with a small hop, you leapt into his hands. He stood cradling you gently, running a finger down your soft ears.

"Alright," Blaise smirked, shaking his head." "Let's get her out of here before they try to put a dress on her next."

As they walked away, Theo leaned over to Mattheo. "You know we're never letting her live this down, right?"

Mattheo sighed, looking down at you. Your small paws pressed against his chest as you looked up at him with big, innocent eyes.

'Yeah, yeah," he muttered. "Just... let's not tell everyone about the ribbons, alright?"

But the smirk on Draco's face said that the secret wasn't staying secret for long.

[kiesrepostarchives]

𝘼𝙩 𝙇𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙩 𝙊𝙪𝙩 𝙇𝙤𝙪𝙙

summary: Get off his case, he won't say it.

characters: mattheo. gyrffindor! reader. mentions of slytherin boys and harry potter

warnings: none! just some tension to lovers

word count: 646

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

It had always been like this.

Since first year, since the moment you and Mattheo Riddle had locked eyes across the Great Hall, there had been an unspoken war between you.

Every class, every duel, every interaction turned into a competition neither of you could afford to lose.

If you brewed the best potion in Slughorn’s class, he’d find a way to top it next time. If he beat your score in Defense Against the Dark Arts, you’d spend hours practicing just to make sure you destroyed him on the next test.

It was exhausting.

And yet, neither of you stopped.

The rivalry had only intensified over the years, growing sharper, more heated. Even the professors knew to separate you when you started bickering, lest one of you end up hexing the other in the middle of class.

But everyone else saw something more.

"You two fight way too much for it to be normal," Theo had pointed out one evening in the Slytherin common room.

"That much tension?" Enzo had smirked. "They’re either going to kill each other or shag each other senseless."

"Over my dead body," Mattheo had scoffed.

"Sure, sure," Theo had drawled. "You can lie to us all you want, mate, but at some point, you’re going to have to admit that you-"

"Absolutely not." Mattheo had cut him off, glaring.

Because it wasn’t true. Right?

Right.

He hated you.

Which was exactly why he was currently sitting on his broom, waiting for the start of the Slytherin versus Gryffindor Quidditch match, and telling himself that the only reason he was scanning the crowd was definitely not to find you.

But then you appeared.

The Gryffindor team emerged from the locker rooms, robes bright red against the green field, and there you were, walking at the front with your broom in your hand, looking so damn smug that it made his blood boil.

You met his gaze instantly, and the smirk you sent him was nothing short of a challenge.

Bring it on, Riddle.

And he did.

The match was brutal. It was fast-paced, full of sharp turns, near collisions, and dirty plays that had the referees blowing their whistles every other minute. You and Mattheo had nearly knocked each other off your brooms at least three times, neither of you willing to let the other get ahead.

But then-

Gryffindor won.

The moment the snitch was caught, the stadium erupted into cheers. Your team tackled Harry in midair, shouting in triumph as the Gryffindor stands exploded in celebration.

Mattheo, still hovering in the air, felt his jaw tighten.

He should’ve been pissed. Furious. He was pissed.

And yet-

His eyes found you again.

You were in the middle of it all, laughing, cheeks flushed from the wind and exertion, eyes shining with exhilaration. You turned toward your teammates, throwing an arm around one of them, still grinning like you had just won the entire damn Wizarding World Cup.

And for the first time, Mattheo didn’t feel the urge to scowl.

Instead, something in his chest twisted.

It wasn’t fair. How could someone be so frustrating, so insufferable-and yet so…

His lips twitched-just slightly, just enough for Blaise to notice as he floated up beside him.

"You’re smiling," Blaise pointed out, raising a brow.

Mattheo scoffed, quickly schooling his expression back to indifference. "No, I’m not."

Theo flew up on his other side, smirking. "You so are."

"Shut up," Mattheo muttered.

"You like her," Draco said, far too entertained.

Mattheo rolled his eyes, shaking his head. "Absolutely not."

The boys exchanged a look, but Mattheo ignored them. His gaze flickered back to you once more, still caught up in the celebration, and something in him softened-just for a second.

Then, under his breath, barely loud enough for anyone to hear, he muttered:

"At least out loud, I won’t say I’m in love."

[kiesrepostarchives]

extremely joyous and fulfilling headcanon of the day: theodore nott has a terribly low pain tolerance.

[kiesrepostarchives]

Animagus : Crow

Slytherin boys texts genre: crack warning: none note: don't read these perverts Navigation Masterlist

Taglist

 @lafrone ,@enfppuff , @rafegfs , @frogtape , @lovelyygirl8 , @catiwinky, @leeleecats , @ghostgardn , @justatadbonkers , @partnerincrime0 , @adreamingpendulum, @imobsessedwitholiviarodrigo, @happydragonfrog , @harvey-malfoy , @helendeath , @caffeine-addict-slug , @elltheawkward , @myunperfektstorys , @wnbweasley, @africancracker , @broadwaybaby123, @stardustsymphony , @luckycharmedpuff , @romantasyreader28, @chelawrites , @catching-fire-in-the-wind , @zubblebubble , @hecate-frenchfries  , @sunnyteume , @msslytherin00 , @blogfandom123 , @mandmilovehim

[kiesrepostarchives]

“bella, i think you dropped something—my heart.”

- theodore nott x reader

you were sitting in the common room, tucked in your favorite armchair, legs folded underneath you, book open in your lap.

it was unusually loud tonight—blaise and mattheo were throwing crumpled parchment balls at each other from opposite ends of the room. enzo was half-laughing, half-snoring on the couch with a chocolate frog wrapper stuck to his cheek. draco was pretending to read but absolutely not pretending to eavesdrop.

you were just trying to stay invisible.

until he walked in.

theodore nott.

his hair a little messy like he’d run his hands through it too many times. tie loosened, sleeves rolled. and that smile—lazy, but shy, and just barely tilted in your direction.

“she’s here,” blaise whispered loudly to mattheo, nudging him with his elbow.

you looked up, immediately wishing you hadn’t.

theodore was coming over. casually. but definitely not casual.

“bella,” he greeted softly, that slight lilt in his voice curling around the word like honey.

you blinked. “hi…”

his hands were in his pockets, shoulders a little tense. he wasn’t usually nervous. not like this.

mattheo was grinning like a menace behind him.

“so,” theo started, and paused. “i was thinking… you’re not going to the yule ball with anyone, right?”

you blinked again. very smooth. very articulate. classic you. “um… no?”

he smiled, one side of his mouth tugging up, voice lowering just a bit. “buona. i mean—good. that’s good.”

you could feel the stares of every other boy in the room digging into your back.

blaise mouthed “oh my god” while fake-fanning himself. enzo coughed something that sounded like “simp.”

you wanted to disappear. theo glanced at them, then rolled his eyes, muttering under his breath in italian.

“ignore them,” he said, now fully focused on you. “they are idiots.”

you bit back a smile.

“anyway,” he said, trying again. “i wanted to ask… maybe—if you want—would you go with me? to the ball?”

his voice was softer now, almost shy. the italian dipped into his tone like a secret. like he didn’t ask girls this sort of thing often. or ever.

you looked at him. really looked.

his eyes were warm. hopeful.

you smiled, fingers fiddling with the corner of your page. “okay. i’d like that.”

his whole face lit up—quietly, like sunrise. not dramatic. just warm.

“grazie, bella,” he said, under his breath, like it was just for you.

mattheo groaned obnoxiously from the couch. “someone put a silencing charm on them before i vomit.”

“shut up,” theo muttered, barely holding back a grin, reaching over to smack mattheo’s arm on the way out.

you sat there with your heart doing something weird and fluttery and fast in your chest, book completely forgotten.

when you looked back toward the stairs, theo was still watching you.

and he winked.

[kiesrepostarchives]

Animagus : Axolotl

Slytherin boys texts genre: crack warning: none note: I am bleeding from my ear, help Navigation Masterlist

Taglist

 @lafrone ,@enfppuff , @rafegfs , @frogtape , @lovelyygirl8 , @catiwinky, @leeleecats , @ghostgardn , @justatadbonkers , @partnerincrime0 , @adreamingpendulum, @imobsessedwitholiviarodrigo, @happydragonfrog , @harvey-malfoy , @helendeath , @caffeine-addict-slug , @elltheawkward , @myunperfektstorys , @wnbweasley, @africancracker , @broadwaybaby123, @stardustsymphony , @luckycharmedpuff , @romantasyreader28, @chelawrites , @catching-fire-in-the-wind , @zubblebubble , @hecate-frenchfries  , @sunnyteume , @msslytherin00 . @blogfandom123 , @mandmilovehim

[kiesrepostarchives]

𝙎𝙞𝙜𝙢𝙖 𝙉𝙪’𝙨 𝙎𝙬𝙚𝙚𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙧𝙩

summary: A diamond in a house full of snakes.

characters: frat boy! mattheo. frat sweetheart! reader. frat boy! slytherins

warnings: mentions of alcohol and making pledges do things (not hazing)

word count: 2.3k

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

They called it the Snake House, though its real name-Sigma Nu-was etched in fading silver above the wrought iron gates that led to the manor. Hidden behind ivy-draped columns and shrouded by ancient oaks, the fraternity estate stood on the edge of campus like a secret too dangerous to be kept in daylight. No one quite remembered when Sigma Nu had been founded-some whispered it was pre-dating the university itself, rooted in ancient rites and blood oaths sworn beneath crescent moons. But in the present, it was feared, admired, and envied in equal measure.

The president of Sigma Nu was Mattheo Riddle, a name spoken with the kind of reverence reserved for legends and tyrants. Sharp of tongue and sharper of mind, Mattheo ruled the fraternity not with brutish dominance, but with a silken charisma that wrapped itself around you like a noose. He was all marble and firelight: smooth, cold, untouchable on the outside, yet flickering with something volatile beneath the surface.

His second-in-command, Theodore Nott, was the shadow behind the throne. Where Mattheo set the tone, Theo enforced it. He was quieter, more calculated, with a gaze like cut glass and a voice you only heard when he needed to remind someone of their place. The brothers called him “The Watcher”-not because he hovered, but because he saw everything.

The rest of the inner circle rotated like planets in their orbit.

Lorenzo Berkshire, with his floppy brown hair and wicked grin, handled social affairs-if such a title could be applied to the lavish masquerades and forbidden midnight galas he orchestrated. Enzo was charm incarnate, hiding razor-sharp instincts behind a glass of wine and a well-tailored coat. People underestimated him. That was their first mistake.

Draco Malfoy, heir to a crumbling aristocracy, served as treasurer. But that role was a formality. Draco was the gatekeeper to the legacy. His family had once poured obscene amounts of money into Sigma Nu, and though the vaults ran thinner now, his word still carried the weight of dynasties. Cold and calculating, Draco rarely spoke unless it was to remind others they weren’t worth speaking to.

Then there was Blaise Zabini, the strategist. He didn’t run the meetings or throw the parties. He played the long game-the one that was always three moves ahead. A cigarette always rested between his fingers, and secrets curled around him like smoke. Blaise’s role wasn’t official. It didn’t have to be. In Sigma Nu, knowledge was currency, and he was the quiet king of the underground economy.

Together, they formed the serpent’s head.

The house itself was a relic from another time. Stained-glass windows filtered the sunlight into eerie patterns on mahogany floors. The walls were lined with portraits of brothers past-men with hollow eyes and stories that had been scrubbed from official records. A grand staircase, rumored to creak only when someone lied in its presence, split the mansion in two. The basement was off-limits, except for the highest-ranking members. What happened down there was never spoken of, but the muffled echoes that sometimes rose through the vents kept the rumors alive.

Rituals were everything in Sigma Nu. Pledging wasn't just about endurance-it was a test of will, of loyalty, of how far you were willing to crawl for power. And once you were in, you were in. There was no leaving. Not really. Former brothers found themselves mysteriously blacklisted, their futures erased with quiet efficiency. No one crossed the Snake House without bleeding for it.

Yet every year, the line to rush snaked down the cobblestone path, filled with students desperate to touch even the hem of that forbidden tapestry. Power, after all, is seductive. And Mattheo Riddle’s Sigma Nu had power in spades.

But inside those ivy-covered walls, something was shifting. There were murmurs of a fracture in the hierarchy. An outsider watching too closely. A secret the founders had buried that might be clawing its way back to the surface.

And at the center of it all: Mattheo, with a hand on the throne and another on the throttle.

But between the echoes of old secrets and the weight of a legacy stitched in silence, she was the unexpected constant-soft in a world that was anything but. While Mattheo navigated the shifting loyalties and unspoken rules of the house, she remained untouched by the storm, yet always in its eye. She didn’t need a title to hold power; she had something rarer. Influence, without force. Presence, without demand. And though the throne was his to claim, she was the one they all moved around-the one they’d protect without question, even as the walls whispered of betrayal and the past threatened to rise. Because to the outside world, she was just the Diamond of Alpha Delta Pi. But to them… she was the heart of Sigma Nu.

The Snake House had never known softness before she arrived. But now, the scent of vanilla and cinnamon wafted through the halls before chapter meetings, and there were always cookies cooling on the kitchen counter beside the whiskey bottles. Her laugh echoed down the staircase, light and melodic, blending strangely well with the heavy bass of party nights and the creak of ancient floorboards.

She wasn't just a sweetheart by title-she was the heartbeat of the fraternity.

Every Friday, three pledges showed up at her off-campus cottage, armed with mops and laundry detergent, ready to clean top to bottom without question. It had become a tradition-Sigma Nu took care of her. Always. It was Theo’s rule. But it was Mattheo’s order.

The pledges were already working by the time the rest of the world stirred. One was sweeping under the island. Another was wiping down cabinets. A third was sorting her laundry into color-coded piles on the dining room table.

“Don’t forget the lavender dryer sheets,” she reminded one of them sweetly, not looking up from her dough.

“Yes, ma’am,” the pledge muttered, blushing.

“You didn’t have to come clean.” She looked over her shoulder at him, a smudge of flour on her cheek.

“I wanted to.” Mattheo walked in, groggy but sharp-eyed, a cigarette dangling from his lips.

“You send pledges to clean my own house every week. My landlord thinks I have a personal cleaning service." She giggled.

“You basically do,” he said, flicking his lighter closed. “You bake banana bread and let Theo cry on your couch. You’ve earned it.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“I’m right,” he replied, and stepped forward, gently swiping the flour from her cheek with his thumb. “You spoil us. Let us return the favor.”

She looked at him for a long moment, eyes searching.

“You don’t have to keep proving things to me, Mattheo.”

He met her gaze, unwavering. “I’m not. I’m proving it to everyone else.”

At parties, she didn’t need to lift a finger. A pledge carried her drink. Another held her coat. If she looked even slightly tired, someone found her a seat. When she danced, people made room.

The party pulsed like a living thing-booming bass, laughter slurred into inside jokes, the thick haze of too much beer and too little inhibition. Lights blinked across the walls, casting silvers and greens on the sweaty crowd packed into the house’s main room.

Then she walked in.

The chatter didn’t stop-but it shifted. Heads turned. A few of the brothers straightened up. Pledges scrambled to make space near the drinks table. And at the edge of the chaos, Mattheo Riddle watched her with a smirk wrapped around the mouth of his beer bottle.

Diamond House perfection. The only sweetheart Sigma Nu would ever need.

She made her way toward the kitchen, exchanging soft smiles and cheek kisses, until one of the guys shouted, “Sweetheart’s here!”

Cheers erupted like a spell had been cast.

Mattheo didn’t move. Just leaned back against the doorway, letting his eyes follow her every step. When a freshman tried handing her a half-full drink, Mattheo’s voice cut sharp and smooth across the room.

“She only drinks vodka cran, dumbass.” He didn’t raise his voice. He didn’t have to.

The pledge blinked, nodded quickly, and disappeared.

She found Mattheo seconds later, a lazy smile tugging at her lips. “You’re going to scare off all the new members.”

“Good.” He looked down at her. “They were getting too bold.”

“You’re acting like I’m made of glass.”

He tilted his head, that smirk deepening. “Nah. Diamonds are tougher than glass.”

She arched a brow. “So I’m tough?”

“You’re dangerous.” His voice dipped, low and dry. “I’ve seen more than a few guys fall stupid over you in five seconds flat.”

“And you?” she asked sweetly. “Still standing?”

Mattheo took a slow sip of his drink, his eyes never leaving hers. “Barely.”

When she walked into a tailgate wrapped in an oversized Sigma Nu hoodie-Draco’s once, Blaise’s the next, Enzo’s after that-everyone knew it was only borrowed until Mattheo noticed she was cold and quietly handed her his.

He always did.

The wind whipped around the tailgate like it had something to prove. She stood on her tiptoes, scanning the crowd, the hem of her Sigma Nu hoodie fluttering. Not hers, technically-Mattheo’s. Still smelled like smoke and spice and something she couldn’t name.

He appeared behind her like a shadow.

“Cold again?”

“You have a sixth sense for it.”

“No.” He leaned close, lips brushing her ear. “I just know you.”

She turned with a grin, poking his chest. “So, what’s the plan, President? Going to assign a pledge to hold my hand all day too?”

“Don’t tempt me.” His eyes flickered over her, playful. “I’d make it a rotating shift.”

She laughed, full and bright.

“I could carry my own books, you know.”

“And ruin our entire pledging system?” he asked, mock serious. “What would the freshmen do without you assigning them smoothie runs and study session alarms?”

“You love it.”

Mattheo didn’t deny it.

Instead, he stepped back and tossed her his scarf. “Put that on.”

“Possessive much?”

“Practical,” he said with a wink. “And if anyone asks-tell them it’s house policy.”

Mattheo Riddle didn’t smile easily. But he watched her like she hung the stars. Protective wasn’t the right word-it was something fiercer, deeper. He knew the sound of her footsteps before she even knocked. He knew how she took her tea, what time her classes ended, what books were stacked in her bag on any given day.

And when he wasn’t sitting at the head of the chapter table, you could find him leaning against the counter while she stirred brownie batter, sleeves pushed up, hoodie half-swallowed by her frame. She was always cooking for them-baking too-and she stayed through every meeting, sitting on the arm of Mattheo’s chair like she belonged there.

Because she did.

Theo might’ve been vice president, but she was Mattheo’s right hand. She helped organize formals, charity auctions, service hours, and pledge retreats. The boys listened when she spoke-not because they were told to, but because they wanted to.

She had that kind of presence. Gentle, golden. The kind of energy that softened even the sharpest of them.

Draco, for all his cold poise, once spent an hour carving roses out of apples because she needed garnishes for a spring brunch. Enzo stopped calling other girls “gorgeous” in her presence out of some misplaced loyalty. Blaise-usually detached and unreadable-offered up his rare, real smiles only when she sat beside him, asking how his day had been like she meant it.

She wasn’t just a name on the sweetheart paddle or a girl in the stands. She was the heartbeat of the house-the reason the boys cleaned up before chapter meetings, the reason pledges learned to bake banana bread from scratch, the reason the Snake House didn’t feel like just a frat, but like something closer to home.

She made it feel like something worth protecting.

The brothers would say it, loud and proud, beers raised and sloshing at tailgates- “She’s ours.”

She showed up early to help decorate before parties. She stayed late to clean. She knew all their birthdays, their favorite meals, their secret fears. When Enzo got sick, she made him soup from scratch and handwrote the recipe card so he could brag about it. When Theo failed a midterm, she sat up with him until 3 a.m., mapping out a study plan like his future depended on it.

Draco, who rarely showed softness, once told her, “If I ever get married, it’s because you raised the bar so high I finally found someone who reminded me of you.”

Blaise swore she brought peace into every room she walked into. Lorenzo called her their “lucky charm.” The pledges called her ma’am-but with awe, not obligation.

She wasn’t perfect. But she was real. She laughed too hard. She danced barefoot in the house like she didn’t care who saw. She left behind hair ties, lip balm, and the scent of vanilla in every room. And when the world got too loud, she leaned into chaos with a smile like she’d tamed fire.

And Mattheo?

Mattheo watched it all from the edge. Quiet. Unshakable. Unclaimed but not untouched.

She wore his hoodies, and he never asked for them back. He let her take the best seat at every party, made the boys swap their plans if she needed help, silenced a room with just a glance if anyone dared say her name wrong.

He never said it-not out loud. Never told her that she made the world easier to stand in. Never admitted that he memorized her favorite flowers or that he checked if her porch light was on after every party.

She might’ve worn Diamond blue, but she was etched into Sigma Nu like a secret kept under lock and key.

And Mattheo Riddle didn’t share secrets.

[kiesrepostarchives]

ssc!rafe being clingy whilst sick 👀

like physically needing his wife to take care of him and getting cuddled by his kids

im craving fluffy ssc blurbs or whatever there called

you find him in bed with the covers pulled all the way up to his chin, pout etched deep into his brows, refusing to take the medicine you set on the nightstand because, in his words, “it tastes like chemicals, angel.”

his voice is hoarse, but he's been calling your name like every ten minutes. just to ask if you’re still in the house. if you’re coming back. if you can sit with him. if you can make him toast even though he said he wasn’t hungry five minutes ago.

and you do. because he looks up at you with those tired, boyish eyes and murmurs, “can you stay? just—here. i can’t sleep unless you’re here.”

so you crawl in next to him, spooning him while he tucks his head into the curve of your neck, the way he never would when he’s healthy and prideful.

the kids peek in throughout the day. the youngest climbs up beside him and lays his cheek on rafe’s chest, whispering, “do you want me to sing you the dinosaur song, daddy?”

and rafe, with his arm draped heavy over you both, hums a weak little “yeah, buddy. that’d be nice.”

your daughter comes in with a cool cloth and presses it gently to his forehead, and rafe melts under her touch—doesn’t even try to act tough.

the eldest son, of course, rolls his eyes at first—“he’s acting like he’s on his deathbed.” but even he ends up sitting at the edge of the bed, handing his dad the remote when rafe whines about not being able to find the channel he likes.

and it’s just… cozy. a quiet, rare softness in the house.

[kiesrepostarchives]

inspired by request | rafe being protective over you at coachella

You’re waiting in line for drinks with Rafe, Topper, and Kelce. The sun’s setting, your glittery crop top catching the light, and Rafe’s arm is slung casually around your shoulder, fingers tracing your skin like it’s second nature.

It’s chill—until someone behind you bumps into you hard, making you stumble a bit.

“Watch where you’re standing,” the guy mutters like it’s your fault.

You turn, thrown off. “Sorry?”

He scoffs. “Whatever. Glitter bitches think they own the place.”

Rafe’s head snaps up.

“What’d you just say?” he asks, calm but sharp.

The guy shrugs, looking smug. “You heard me.”

“Nah, say it again,” Rafe steps in front of you now, shoulders squared. “Say something else about her. I fucking dare you.”

You grab his arm lightly. “Rafe…”

He doesn’t budge. “You don’t talk to her like that. You don’t look at her like that.”

The guy glances at the group—Topper’s arms crossed, Kelce looks way too happy to have an excuse to jump in—and decides it’s not worth it. he backs off without another word, clearly realizing he picked the wrong group.

Rafe finally turns to you, eyes soft again. “You good?”

You smile. “I was fine. You’re the one getting heated over glitter.”

He leans in, lips brushing your temple. “You look hot in glitter. Doesn’t mean people get to be assholes about it.”

“That was, like, romantic… but scary.” Topper says from beside you.

Kelce mutters “He's in full boyfriend mode.”

Rafe just shrugs, pulling you closer. “Nobody fucks with my girl. Glitter or not.”