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[snetofed]

A terrible fight

(Affection, pampering and tenderness, Mattheo x reader)

The Slytherin common room was completely silent.

Or at least it was… until the door burst open and Mattheo staggered in, blood on his lip and bloody knuckles.

“Mattheo?!” You stood up immediately, dropping the book from your hands.

He didn’t answer. He just walked over to the nearest couch and sank down heavily, breathing heavily, his brow furrowed, his eyes still filled with fury.

You immediately approached, kneeling in front of him.

“What happened?” you asked quietly, but firmly.

Mattheo closed his eyes, as if trying to contain himself.

“Idiots… they kept talking about you. About your body. About what they would do if you weren’t mine.”

“Oh, Mattheo…”

“I told them to shut up. They didn’t.” So…" He shrugged, a crooked half-smile creasing his face, blood dripping from his eyebrow.

"You're an idiot," you whispered, but you cupped his face with both hands with a tenderness that disarmed him completely.

Your fingers brushed against his wounded cheek, and he closed his eyes at the touch.

"I don't care what anyone says," you added. "I care about you. Only you. But this… not this."

"I couldn't stay still," he admitted, his voice breaking. "Just imagining their hands on you… their mouths saying your name… I went crazy."

His eyes searched for you, bright with suppressed rage. But beneath that… was fear. Pain. Vulnerability he showed to no one else.

"Look at me, Mattheo," you said, gently lifting his face. "You don't have to fight to prove I'm yours." "I already am." "And I always will be."

He swallowed. And for the first time in a long time, he didn't know what to say.

"You're my weakness," he murmured, barely audible. "That scares me. I don't know how to handle it. You."

You leaned down and kissed his wounded forehead gently. Then his chapped lips, so tenderly that he clung to you as if you could save him from himself.

"Then let me help you handle it," you whispered against his mouth. "You're not alone, Mattheo. Not anymore."

He hugged you tightly, burying his face in your neck. Finally, lowering all his defenses.

And in that moment… the angry, jealous, wild boy, just wanted you to hold him a little longer.

The silence was thick in the room. You were standing in front of him, wearing only one of his shirts, oversized over your body. Mattheo looked at you as if you were a sin… one he wasn't going to confess.

"Come here," he said, his voice deep, hoarse from everything he was holding back.

You walked toward him without saying anything. He was sitting on the bed, bandaged, half-disheveled, his hair damp and messy from the quick shower that barely calmed his mind.

But as soon as you were in front of him, he wrapped both arms around your waist and hid his face in your abdomen.

"You don't know how close I was today to completely losing control," he murmured against your skin. "I thought about dark things… things I shouldn't want to do." "But then I thought of you. And I forced myself to come back." "To you."

You brought your hands to his hair, stroking it gently.

"I'm here, Mattheo. You don't have to carry this alone."

He raised his head. His gaze was liquid fire.

"It's not enough for you to be here." "I want to feel that you're mine. All of you. That there's no corner of you that doesn't belong to me when I touch you."

"Then touch me," you whispered. "Do it."

As if those words set him free, Mattheo stood up suddenly and took you in his arms. His lips crashed against yours urgently, without asking permission, without measuring his strength. He kissed you furiously, desperately, as if with each kiss he tried to erase the memory of any other.

His hands ran down your back, up your thighs, he picked you up easily and laid you down on the bed, on top of the dark sheets, looking at you as if he were about to devour you.

"You're perfect," he panted against your neck. "Damn you for ruining me for anyone else."

And there was no gentleness this time.

There was skin against skin. Broken sighs. Whispers like: —“Tell me I'm the only one who touches you like this.” —“Tell me there's no one else.” —“Tell me again… louder…”

And you said it.

You screamed his name in the darkness. You swore your love for him between gasps. You returned each touch with the same intensity, as if you'd burn if you didn't touch him back.

Until he buried himself in your neck, spent, his chest rising and falling against yours, and whispered:

—If you ever leave me… I swear the world will never be safe again.

And you, without any fear, kissed him.

—Then I'm never going to leave.

Dawn was just beginning to paint the Hogwarts stones blue. Inside the room, the air was warm, thick with what had happened hours before. You were wrapped in the sheets, your head resting on Mattheo's chest, as he slept with his arm around your waist, as if unconsciously wanting to keep you there, glued to him.

Silence. Peace.

Until…

"BAM!"

The door burst open.

"Mattheo?!" Theodore's voice was the first. "Where the hell are you?"

"Are you alive or not?!" Lorenzo Berkshire came in behind him, agitated.

You bolted upright, pulling the sheets over yourself. Mattheo, half asleep, reacted late… but when he saw you standing there, damned frozen, he cursed under his breath.

"Fuck…"

"What the hell?!" Theodore frowned at the sight of you in bed. "You…? With her?"

Lorenzo raised his eyebrows, looking at the mess of clothes on the floor, Mattheo's half-replaced bandages, and your messy hair.

"Well, he's definitely not dead," he said dryly. "He's busy."

"That's not the point!" Theo roared, taking a step forward. "You go out and fight three morons in the middle of the night, disappear with bloody fists, and NOT tell us a thing?! And when we finally find you, you're… in bed… with her?!"

Mattheo sat up slowly, dragging his hands over his face.

"Can you not scream while you're scolding me? I'm half naked and have a broken rib."

"And with that satisfied-ass face!" Theodore snorted. What's wrong with you, Riddle?!

You were about to intervene, but Mattheo raised a hand, not looking at them.

"Enough. They don't owe me anything. I didn't ask for your help. I didn't ask for your permission. And yes, I fought. Because they said things NO ONE has the right to say about her. And yes, they beat the shit out of me. But look at me now."

His eyes fell on you, and his voice changed. It softened.

"I'm fine. Because she's here."

Theodore looked at him with a mixture of anger and resignation.

"You're crazy, Riddle."

"Maybe. But if being sane means pushing her away, I'd rather stay this way."

Lorenzo watched him for a moment… and let out a dry laugh.

"Damn. You're fucking in love."

Mattheo didn't deny it.

And you, from the bed, without saying a word, took Mattheo's hand. Firm. Determined.

Theo looked at you. Then he looked at him.

"You're going to get into a lot more trouble for this," he said.

"Then stay close," Mattheo replied, with a crooked smile. "To see how I solve them… or destroy them."

[snetofed]

It wasn't difficult to let go of everything you were going through, to distract yourself for a moment with your book, which you were reading as you sat comfortably under one of the cloister arches.

The sun was pleasantly dim at that time of the afternoon, the air sweet with the scent of grass. Your back was against the stone pillar as you sat on the small wall beneath the arches, your hair moving in the gentle breeze.

And, for a moment, you forgot everything that had been going on in your life, involving that idiot named Mattheo. Matteo Riddle.

You had met a few weeks ago and had your first proper conversation with him, even though you already knew who he was. He was quite popular with the students, being the son of the Dark Lord and a cunning Slytherin. You would never have expected it, but he was nice. He wasn't as bad as some Gryffindors made him out to be, and besides, he was a really good-looking boy.

He entered your head, made your mind his own, captured you with his sly words and witty comebacks, with his dark eyes and white teeth.

But he's been acting rather confusingly toward you. First, he talks to you, acting kindly. Then, he's a jerk, avoiding you, and then texting you about the boy you were talking to, as if he had the right to say anything about it. He's kind to you, then he's indifferent.

You didn't like how he was acting lately, so you showed him. Distance and coldness were your weapons to fight your own occasional coldness. But it was exactly at that moment, when you were sure you'd get a moment of peace, that you heard his voice.

"Is it a good book?" he asked. He was leaning his side against a tree, looking at you with that slight smile on his lips. You looked up, meeting his gaze with a confused expression on your face.

"Shouldn't you be in detention with Snape?" You asked him, not answering his question at all. At that, he walked slowly toward you, not looking away.

"I… I snuck out to try and find you," he said in a whisper, placing his arm against the stone pillar and looking down at you.

[snetofed]

She's not mine

Theodore Nott was never one for much of a talker. He observed, he was silent. Controlled. Cold. Lethal when he wanted to be.

But she… Elizabeth Malfoy was chaos disguised as elegance. Silver hair like her brother Draco, an intelligent gaze, a dangerous smile. As Slytherin as any, but with more fire than he knew how to handle.

"Don't look at her like that, Theo," Draco would often warn him lightly, oblivious to the gravity of his words. "She's my sister. Don't mess with her."

And Theodore would nod, as if the idea seemed ridiculous to him.

But inside… it was too late.

Ever since he was 15, when he saw her laughing with Pansy in the greenhouse, the sun reflecting off her hair like liquid silver, he knew he was screwed. He never stopped feeling it.

In sixth year, things got complicated.

Elizabeth started dating a Ravenclaw boy. One of those perfect boys, with a charming smile and princely manners.

Theo couldn't stand him. But he hid it with sarcasm and silence.

"What do you think of Flynn?" Elizabeth asked him one night in the Common Room, sitting next to him.

Theodore raised an eyebrow.

"Who?"

"My boyfriend," she said, crossing her arms.

"Oh. That one."

Silence. She stared at him.

"Are you going to keep pretending you don't care?"

"Why would I care?" he replied seriously, without looking at her. But his clenched jaw gave him away.

"Because every time he sees me with you, he tenses up. As if you were a threat."

"Maybe I am one," Theodore said, standing up.

And he left her there, her heart beating faster.

Because for a second, she thought she saw him burn.

One night, after a fight with Flynn, Elizabeth stormed out into the courtyard, furious.

Theodore was there, sitting on the steps, alone, as always.

"What are you doing here, Princess Malfoy?"

"Running away," he muttered.

"From what?"

"From people who don't love me as I am."

Theodore turned to look at her. And he hated it. He hated how his heart raced at the mere sight of her. He hated how he wanted to cup her face in his hands and kiss her until he forgot her name.

"Then stay with me," he whispered.

Elizabeth looked at him, surprised.

"Is that what you want?"

Theodore swallowed. And for once, he didn't lie.

"I want everything with you…" "But Draco would kill me," he added with a bitter smile.

Elizabeth took a step toward him.

"And if we don't tell him… would he still kill us?"

And then they kissed. Desperately. As if they'd both waited too long.

And they had.

The corridors of Hogwarts were dark, barely lit by the moon filtering through the high stained-glass windows.

Elizabeth walked quickly, her heart pounding. Not out of fear of being caught outside her common room… But because she knew he was waiting for her.

When she turned the corner, there he was.

Theodore Nott, leaning against the wall, his tie loose, his shirt half-unbuttoned, and that typical expression of his: neutral, but with blazing eyes.

"You took a while," he said, not moving.

"Draco saw me leave. I had to go around the second floor," she replied, approaching.

"Does he suspect anything?"

"No more than usual. But I didn't come here to talk about Draco."

Their eyes met. The tension in the air was palpable, like electricity before a storm.

Theodore pulled her wrist with a firm movement, making her crash against his chest.

"Every time you talk about someone else, it makes me sick," he murmured against her neck. "Every time someone looks at you like they have a right to you…" "And what are you going to do, Theo? Hit them all?" she whispered, smiling against his lips.

"No. I'm going to remind you who is the only one who knows you like this."

And then he kissed her.

It wasn't gentle.

It was hunger.

It was rage. It was passion pent up for weeks. Months.

Elizabeth grabbed him by the collar, pushing him against the opposite wall. He groaned softly, surprised by the force, but he loved it.

"Silence," she laughed between kisses. "Do you want them to find out?"

"Let them," Theo growled, lowering his lips to her neck. "Let Draco see it." Let him know you drive me crazy and I can't stop wanting you.

His hands were everywhere, desperate, as if your skin were peeling away.

"You hated me first," she whispered.

"And I still hate you a little," he replied, brushing his nose against yours. "But I love you more."

That was the final blow. Mutual surrender.

That night, amid whispers, stifled gasps, and desperate caresses in a dark Hogwarts hallway, Theodore Nott broke all his rules. And Elizabeth Malfoy stopped belonging to anyone but him.

Secretly. Silently. But burning.

Everything was going well… until Draco saw them. One night, after dueling practice.

He saw them in a corner of the hallway, kissing like they were the only things in the world.

"Nott?!" His voice was ice and fury.

Elizabeth pulled away suddenly.

"Draco, wait…"

But her brother had already drawn his wand.

"My best friend? With my sister?"

"Draco, no!" Elizabeth shouted.

Theodore didn't defend himself. He just looked into his eyes.

"I love her."

And for the first time… he said it out loud.

Draco froze.

Not because of the kiss.

But because Theo didn't use that word. Ever.

Elizabeth took his hand.

"It's real, Draco. Even if it hurts."

The silence was thick. Heavy.

Finally, Draco lowered his wand.

"If you hurt her, Nott… there's no hell to save you."

And he left.

In the darkness of the Common Room, she slept, leaning against his chest. And Theodore stroked her hair, silently.

"I love you," he whispered, only to himself.

He couldn't pretend anymore. He didn't want to deny it anymore.

Because after all… Elizabeth Malfoy was his weakness. His downfall. His love.

And for her, he would risk everything. Even his loyalty.

Important notice: Please support my posts, it motivates me to keep uploading. Thanks for reading!

[snetofed]

"Important notice: Please support my posts, it motivates me to keep uploading." Thanks for reading!

[snetofed]

[snetofed]

“Between Hate and Fire”

(Mattheo Riddle and Tn Custer: a story of love and jealousy, enemies to lovers)

From the first day they crossed paths in the Hogwarts hallway, they hated each other. Or so they pretended.

You, the only one who could look Mattheo Riddle in the eye without flinching. He, the only one who managed to get on your nerves without saying a single word.

"Watch your step, Custer," he said in his deep, slow voice when you intentionally bumped into his shoulder.

"You first, Riddle. Don't trip over your ego."

Sparks flew. Those around him fell silent.

No one was spoken to like that.

Except you.

And for him, it didn't anger him… it inflamed him.

Everything became a constant back-and-forth. Sarcastic comments in class. Innuendos when no one else was listening.

"You should be careful, love," he whispered once in your ear as you walked past him. "I'm still tempted to kiss you just to shut you up."

"Do it and I'll break your nose with a charm," you smiled at him.

"I'd accept it. Happy, too."

But the lines began to blur.

One night, at a clandestine party in the Room of Requirement, he caught you dancing with a Ravenclaw boy. And when your eyes met… you knew.

Mattheo was furious.

He walked up to you, shoved you with an icy smile, and pulled your arm with measured force.

"Jealous, Riddle?" you asked, challenging him.

"No, enraged. It's different." "Why do you care who I dance with?"

Mattheo cornered you against a wall. The music roared in the distance, but there, in that dark corner, only the two of you existed.

"Because you're mine, fucking mine… even if you don't accept it yet."

And then he kissed you. A violent, needy kiss, full of rage and suppressed desire.

And you, instead of pulling away, kissed him back with the same intensity. Because you hated him too. And you wanted him just the same.

From that night on, they couldn't pretend anymore.

In class, your legs brushed against his. In the library, you pretend to argue while your hands met under the desk. In the empty hallways… you kissed as if the world could end tomorrow.

But Mattheo was still possessive. And you, too stubborn to be tamed.

"Do you really need to talk to Zabini that much?" he snapped at you one afternoon, jealousy looming behind his gray eyes.

"Do you really think you can control who I talk to?"

Mattheo grabbed you by the waist, his lips brushing against yours.

"I don't want to control you. I want you to know that if anyone else touches you… I'll destroy them." "What if I like provoking you?"

"Then you'll be trapped with me forever."

And you didn't say it out loud, but you knew: You were already trapped.

For the way he looked at you as if you were the only thing that mattered. For his wild need to have you. For the passion that burned through everything they were… even when they fought.

It wasn't a fairy tale. It was more like a holy war, with kisses like weapons and glances that spoke louder than a thousand promises.

He was still a problem. You, a storm that wouldn't calm down.

But at night, when you lay between wrinkled sheets and shallow breaths, there was something that was only yours:

Rabid love. Dark. Unbreakable.

And damn, hating someone never felt so good.

Important notice: Please support my posts, it motivates me to keep uploading. Thanks for reading!

[snetofed]

[snetofed]

Cigarettes after sex

WARNING_(Sex, male to female, penetration, moaning, orgasm, jealousy, possessiveness)

The Slytherin Common Room was unrecognizable.

The usual darkness had been broken by hundreds of small green lights floating in the air, spells clumsily cast by a half-drunk Theo and an overly competitive Blaise. Wizarding music played softly, and bottles of Firewhiskey—obviously smuggled—were passed around.

Elizabeth Custer sat in an armchair, her legs elegantly crossed, a glass in hand, surveying the elegant mess with an amused smile.

Mattheo Riddle was at her side, one arm casually draped over the back of the chair behind her, but his body clearly leaning toward Elizabeth, as if subconsciously wanting to keep her close.

"Are you going to stare at me all night, or are you going to kiss me right now?" she murmured without turning around.

Mattheo smirked.

"Don't tempt me, Custer. I don't want to put on a show in front of these idiots."

"Idiots?" "Theo said, walking right past them, two glasses in hand. 'That's offensive, Riddle! I demand an apology… and one of those biscuits Blaise stole from the kitchen.'

'They weren't biscuits, genius,' Blaise sneered from across the room. 'They were brownies… very suspicious.'

'Why suspicious?!' asked Lorenzo Berkshire, who had just arrived, his shirt half-tucked into his trousers, his hair still wet from a hasty shower.

'Because the kitchen elves looked at me strangely when I asked for them,' Blaise shrugged.

Draco Malfoy, leaning against the fireplace with an elegant glass in his hand, rolled his eyes.

'Everything you do, Zabini, is suspicious.'

Pansy Parkinson, sitting on Draco's lap (because, obviously, there weren't enough "decent" seats), let out a high-pitched laugh.

"Half of us are going to end up in St. Mungo's tonight. How exciting."

Mattheo leaned toward Elizabeth, lowering his voice as if they shared a secret.

"If Zabini starts seeing dragons dancing on the ceiling, we're out of here."

Elizabeth laughed softly, her laughter vibrating in her throat, and Mattheo looked at her as if there was nothing else in the world.

"Stop looking at me like that," she whispered, somewhat embarrassed.

"I can't." Mattheo took the glass from her hand and placed it on the coffee table. "You're much more entertaining than these idiots."

Elizabeth was about to reply when Theo dramatically launched himself into an armchair opposite them, spilling part of his glass.

"I propose a game," he announced, waving his wand to summon a spinning bottle. "Or are we too mature for that?"

"Definitely not," Lorenzo said, already pouring himself another glass.

"Perfect!" Theo rubbed his hands together. "Truth or dare. And whoever doesn't want to answer or do his dare…" He smiled like an evil genius, "takes off an item of clothing."

"What are we, Gryffindors?" Draco growled, but slumped down beside Pansy nonetheless.

Blaise raised his glass.

"I'm in. But be warned: I have no dignity to lose."

Everyone laughed, and Elizabeth felt Mattheo slide his hand slowly up her thigh under the guise of "getting settled." Slytherin, after all, knew how to play it his way.

The bottle spun in the center of the table. It went round and round, making everyone sneer at each other. Finally, it stopped, pointing straight at Elizabeth.

"Oooh!" everyone shouted.

"Truth or dare, Custer?" Theo asked, with a wolfish grin.

Elizabeth glanced at Mattheo out of the corner of her eye. He raised an eyebrow, as if challenging her.

"Dare," she said fearlessly.

Theo clapped his hands as if he'd just won the House Cup.

"You have to sit on the lap of someone other than your boyfriend for three minutes."

Mattheo, sipping from his glass, stopped.

"What kind of idiotic Gryffindor dare is that?" he snarled, glaring at Theo.

Theo just grinned.

"What's up, Riddle? Don't you trust your girl?"

Elizabeth stood up with all the theatricality she could muster, walking slowly through the laughter and catcalls. She looked at Draco. No, that would be too awkward. She looked at Blaise. Nah, it would be fun, but Mattheo would kill him. She looked at Theo. Too easy.

Finally, smiling, she sat quietly on Lorenzo Berkshire's lap, who nearly choked on his drink.

"I'm honored, truly," Lorenzo said, not daring to move a muscle.

Mattheo looked at her as if he were recording the scene in his memory… only to get revenge later.

Three endless minutes later, Elizabeth returned to her place next to Mattheo, innocent as an angel.

"Everything alright, love?" she said with a sweet smile.

Mattheo didn't respond. He just put his arm around her waist, pulling her roughly against him.

"We'll talk later," he murmured in her ear, his voice heavy with dangerous promises.

The night continued amid ridiculous challenges, stupid bets, belly-aching laughter, and looks that burned hotter than Firewhiskey.

Slytherin knew how to throw parties.

But Elizabeth knew better: Mattheo Riddle was hers. And when the party was over… it would be all his too.

As the green lights began to dim and the laughter turned to murmurs, Mattheo Riddle grabbed your wrist.

"Come here," he said softly, leading you out of the Common Room with a firm stride.

Without protest. You knew this was coming. And, deep down, you wanted it.

You went up to your room. He closed the door, and before you could say anything, he had you against the wall, his hands on your hips, his body pressed against yours.

"Did you have fun, Custer?" His voice was low, dangerous.

You smiled innocently.

"With what part? With the game? With Lorenzo?" you joked, challenging him.

A low growl escaped his throat.

"You know exactly what I'm talking about."

His lips descended to your neck, marking his territory with fiery kisses that made you arch against him. His breathing was heavy against your skin.

"Don't ever sit on anyone's lap again," he murmured through gritted teeth. "You're mine."

"What if you provoke me again?" you whispered, amused.

Mattheo lifted his head; his gray eyes burned.

"Then I'll have to remind you… again and again."

He kissed you then, madly, claiming you in a way that left no room for doubt. His hands ran over you as if every inch of your body was rightfully his.

"See how you want me…" he said, separating his lips from my chest and smiling wickedly.

I didn't respond, then he leaned closer to my face and kissed my lips again. Every now and then, we had to break the kiss for a second because we were short of breath.

Suddenly, I noticed Mattheo lower his hands to my thighs and begin to drag my thong down my legs, causing it to fall to the floor. Then, I grabbed his pants and unbuttoned them with great enthusiasm. I could see him smiling as I did so.

When I unbuttoned them, I also pulled down his boxers and began to caress his member with my hands. I could see how big and hard it was.

"Look how you've got me, slut," Mattheo told me, looking down at his member. While I was masturbating his member with my hands, Mattheo took a condom he had stashed away from his pocket. Then, he opened the packet and took it out.

"You put it on me," he ordered, showing me the condom. "But with your mouth…" he added with a seductive smile, looking at my lips.

I stood still, staring into his eyes for a few seconds. I could see his eyes, desperately wanting me to do it.

So I obeyed him and slowly bent down, dropping to my knees on the floor.

Mattheo handed me the condom, and I grabbed it with my hand. Then, I placed the tip of the condom over my lips, holding it.

I began to bring his penis toward my mouth and opened it slightly to let the condom in.

I slowly inserted his penis into my mouth, sliding my lips until I was almost completely inside.

Mattheo gasped as he felt my mouth touch his member, and I felt myself getting more and more choked and almost nauseous, but I finally managed to put the condom on him and pulled my mouth off of it.

"That's my bitch," he said, looking down at me.

He immediately grabbed me by the neck and lifted me back up to face him.

He then grabbed my legs and lifted them so he was holding me in his arms, and I wrapped my legs around his waist and held onto his shoulders. Suddenly, he began to penetrate me, and I moaned softly. This time, it didn't hurt as much because I was already very wet.

At first, he started slowly, but as the minutes passed, he began to thrust harder and faster. We both moaned with pleasure and breathed heavily. It was the first time I heard Mattheo's moans, and I won't deny that they were very gratifying sounds, and they made me get wetter and wetter.

I closed my eyes as I grabbed Mattheo's hair and bit my lips in pleasure. He seemed to like it because every time he did, I gasped and he pounded me harder. The position we were in was truly exhausting, especially for Mattheo, since he had my legs wrapped around me, holding my entire body up, so it was increasingly difficult for us to stay upright and breathe.

"Mattheo… I-I can't take it anymore…" I moaned. Hearing that, Mattheo didn't say anything, but instead, he began to speed up his thrusts.

I felt a release of hormones and moaned carelessly as I felt I finally reached my climax. Mattheo came after me, and we both released all the moans we were hiding inside. It was the best feeling…

That night, between whispers, bites, and desperate caresses, Mattheo Riddle not only punished you… I adored you.

As only a Slytherin in love could: With intensity. With madness. With everything

[snetofed]

It made me laugh a lot

[snetofed]

SLYTHERIN BOYS

[snetofed]

[snetofed]

Flames of our fears

(jealousy, possessiveness and toxic relationships)

The Slytherin Common Room had never been so alive. Enchanted lights floated like green fireflies, music drifted through the air like a spellbound whisper, and the damp walls seemed even warmer from the number of bodies dancing, laughing, and drinking potions disguised as pumpkin juice.

And you were alone. Against a wall, goblet in hand, pretending it didn't affect you.

Pretending you didn't see Matthew Riddle across the room. With a girl glued to him.

She was laughing loudly. She leaned on his arm too much. And he… wouldn't move away.

"Idiot…" you muttered to yourself.

They hadn't officially broken up. They hadn't said words like "it's over" or "it's over." They had only argued a few hours ago, when you saw him talking to another girl. A different one. And now this?

Theo approached you, offering you more drink.

"Do you want me to punch him, or would you rather do it yourself?" he said with a crooked smile.

"I'd rather he explode spontaneously," you said without looking.

"Well, then keep looking at him like that. You're burning the back of his neck."

And you were. Mattheo felt it. Because he turned. And looked at you.

It was like the rest of the party went dark.

He held your gaze. And you didn't look away.

That was the problem with Mattheo Riddle. That even when you were furious with him, he still seemed like the only safe place. Even if he was burning.

Without a second thought, you put down your drink and turned to leave. The party, the music, everything didn't matter to you at that moment.

"Where are you going?" His voice behind you was a sharp thud.

You stopped. You closed your eyes.

"Away from you."

Mattheo approached quickly. The party was still going on, but you were already in another universe.

"Are you angry about what happened before? About what happened just now?" he asked, in that low, almost annoyed tone. As if he didn't understand your reaction.

"Are you kidding me?" You turned to face him, anger mixed with that sadness you didn't want to show. "I saw you. And you know what the worst part is? You knew I was watching you."

Mattheo swallowed. Something in his gaze cracked for a second.

"I wanted you to look at me." "What?" "I wanted you to react," he said, moving even closer, his eyes fixed on yours. "Because I saw you talking to that Ravenclaw at lunch. You laughed. You touched him. And I couldn't handle it."

"So this is revenge?"

"No," he said quickly, without breathing. This is madness. This is "I care about you so much I don't know how to handle it without losing my mind."

You fell silent. His voice sounded real. Hurt. Like he didn't know how to stop screwing things up… but also didn't know how to walk away.

"You can't play with me like this, Mattheo."

"I'm not playing. I'm losing. Every damn day I don't have you like before."

There was a thick silence. The green lights kept floating around, as if the world didn't understand what was happening between you.

Then he took a step closer. He was so close now you could feel his labored breathing.

"Tell me you don't love me and I'll walk away right now," he whispered. "But if you still love me, just a little, I swear I'll never let you doubt what you mean to me again."

Your heart pounded in your ears.

"You're a jealous, insecure, and…" you took a breath, "completely mine."

Mattheo smiled for the first time all night. He didn't say anything. He just grabbed your waist and kissed you as if the rest of the party had disappeared. As if only you existed.

And in that moment, it was true.

The kiss ended, but the fire didn't. Mattheo broke away barely, his lips still grazing yours, and his eyes… Merlin, those eyes looked at you as if you were their center, their chaos, their everything.

"Let's get out of here," he murmured.

You didn't ask where. You just nodded.

Amidst shoving and laughter in the background, Mattheo took your hand, leading you through the halls of the Common Room, to his room. He shared it, yes, but by now no one was sleeping there. They were all at the party… or too drunk to notice.

He closed the door with a spell. Immediate silence. Just the two of you.

You stayed near the bed as he leaned against the door, looking at you. The party seemed like another dimension. Here, there was only tension. And words that hadn't been spoken.

"Did you really think I wanted to lose you?" "He said, his voice hoarse and tired.

"I thought you wanted to hurt me. As punishment," you replied sincerely.

Mattheo lowered his gaze for a second, as if those words hit him harder than he expected.

"Sometimes I don't know how to love without ruining everything."

You approached slowly. You cupped his face in both hands.

"Then learn. With me. Because I'm not going to give up on you… even if you give me reasons."

He closed his eyes at the feel of your touch, as if it cleansed him of everything. As if it reminded him he was human.

"You're the only thing that makes me want to be better. But also the only thing that makes me lose control," he whispered. "How am I supposed to live with that?"

"Feeling it. Living it. Not running away from it."

Mattheo opened his eyes. And he kissed you again. Slower this time. More sincere.

The anger, the jealousy, everything dissolved in the heat of that moment. His hands on your waist, your breath against his neck, your fingers tangling in his wrinkled shirt. He broke away for just a moment to rest his forehead against yours.

"Stay with me tonight," he said in a whisper. It wasn't an order. It was a disguised plea.

"Always," you replied softly.

He held you tightly, as if the world could fall apart at any moment… but not while you were there.

And that night, between slow kisses, trembling caresses, and whispered confessions, you didn't make perfect promises.

But you did make one real one: You two were chaos. But you were the same kind of chaos. And that was enough.

[snetofed]

[snetofed]

"You, My Curse"

by Mattheo Riddle

I didn't know what hunger was. Until your eyes looked at me. I didn't know hell Until I feared losing you.

I think of you like a sweet poison, something that burns me, consumes me, but still I drink, again and again.

I'm not an easy man. I'm made of cracks of cold blood, of scars that can't be seen… But you. You enter like a fire without asking permission.

There are days when I don't know if I want to kiss you or lock you away from the world where no one else can touch you, look at you, breathe you.

Not because I don't trust you. Because I don't trust the world.

I love you furiously. With the rage of someone who never learned to love well, but wants to try with you, even if their hands tremble.

You're the only thing I don't know how to destroy. And the only thing I wouldn't let myself lose.

So stay. Stay even if it burns. Stay even if I can't say it nicely.

Because if I don't have you, there's nothing left.

Only shadows. Only me.

[snetofed]

MATTHEO: —Do you know what's worse than a class with Snape after lunch? THEO: —A date with you? MATTHEO: —Ha-ha. How original. No. Having to see your face every day without sunglasses. I'm slowly going blind. THEO: (sarcastic) —And to think my mom told me orphans needed love. Clearly not you. MATTHEO: (making an indignant face) —Orphan?! Do I look like Harry Potter? THEO: (elbowing him) —You look like you have unresolved trauma and abandonment issues, yes. Although… that's like the unofficial Slytherin uniform. MATTHEO: (nodding with fake solemnity) —"Sarcasm, passive hatred, and emotionally absent parents." The house motto. THEO: —And you're the club's prefect. MATTHEO: —Of course. An honorary position. I'm also in charge of breaking hearts and stealing sandwiches from the kitchen. THEO: (mumbles) —It's not stealing if the elves give them to you because they feel sorry for you. MATTHEO: —THAT'S EMOTIONAL MANIPULATION AND IT'S A TALENT! (both burst out laughing, lying sideways on the couch) THEO: (still laughing) —How is it possible you have a girlfriend? MATTHEO: (with a sly smile) —Because I have this face, natural charm, and… I'm traumatized, Theo. Girls love to fix projects. THEO: (pretending to score in the air) —Perfect. Score: becoming emotionally unstable to get laid. MATTHEO: —Too late. You're already like that from the factory. (They look at each other for a second and laugh again, like two idiots who wouldn't trade each other for anything)

[snetofed]

¡FRIENDS!

[snetofed]

Mattheo Riddle as BOYFRIEND (images)