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#he turns them on to get out of detention
otrtbs · 10 months
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james potter is a victim of the BBBED (big beautiful brown eyes disease)
418 notes · View notes
writingsbychlo · 3 months
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PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE | mattheo riddle
summary; mattheo is your slightly toxic, slightly unhinged, but absolutely adoring and completely obsessed boyfriend.
word count; 7077
notes; literally the moment I started watching the PPP music video I was like 'oh it's so matty coded' and this came to mind immediately. I didn't intend for it to get so long, it was supposed to be a short drabble. whoops.
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The first time you met Mattheo Riddle, you were just walking out of detention as he was walking in. 
Well, being dragged in by Madam Hooch, more like. He had blood on his face, and his knuckles, and he was smirking to himself as a sorry-looking Cormac trailed them inside. His eyes met yours, he’d winked, and you’d both continued to watch one another over your shoulders as you crossed paths, until the door shut. 
You were his, from that very first moment. 
The following days brought stolen glances across the classrooms and the Great Hall, his arrogant smirks and your shy smiles, and the look on his face that made you blush. You had to see him again, and opportunity presented itself that same Thursday, in Potions class, as Mattheo argued with Snape over… something. 
You’d tuned out, preferring to sit and watch him. He was just so pretty when he was mad. 
“That will be detention, Mr Riddle.” Snape drawled in that monotonous tone of his, and Mattheo glared across the classroom at the professor, who looked like he couldn't have cared less if he tried. “Unless anybody else has any objections, we can return to—”
Your book hit the ground with a resounding thud. The sound of it echoed around the room, and all eyes turned to you. You weren’t sure what exactly had brought it on, and your friends stared at you, horrified about the disruption. An excuse sat on the tip of your tongue, but then your eyes met those enchanting honey-brown ones, and he was smirking at you once again, a single brow raised. 
“Motherfucker.” You squeaked out, and after a pause that felt like it lasted an eternity, your professor sighed. 
“Very well. Detention for you, too.”
Your jaw dropped, heat flushed your face, and Mattheo’s smirk stretched into a smile. Another wink, and you were a goner. 
That same evening in detention, you’d been punctual and prompt, and he had sauntered in fifteen minutes late, sliding into the chair right beside you. Whispered conversations became jokes and confessions, inching closer and closer together, until you could count every little freckle that danced across his nose, and taste the nicotine and mint still on his breath when he spoke. His eyes held you captive, the stories he told had you on the edge of your seat, and the way his hand slid up your thigh had you burning. 
Your first kiss was a month later, when he’d made you promise not to get any more detentions just to see him. Instead, you’d waited outside the classroom, and the moment he’d been out, he’d given you that same flirty grin. Pressed up into the stone wall behind you, with one of his hands beside your head as the other sat on your waist, his tongue had slipped into your mouth. He’d tasted like chocolate and cigarettes, and you’d been intoxicated. 
And when he pulled back, his softest smile yet on his face as his hand had taken your own, you’d known that he was yours, too.
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“What do you mean you’re going out with Mattheo Riddle?” Your friend hissed, her eyes wide as the two of you huddled close together, ducking along the corridors as you hurried to your next class. 
“Well, I mean that he asked me out on a date, and I said yes, so—”
“Don’t be sassy with me!” She scoffed, and you smiled, shrugging. She really had left herself wide open for that, it wasn’t your fault you took the chance she presented. “He’s bad news.”
“Oh, come on. What does that even mean?”
“It means that he’s bad for you. He’s bad for everyone!” Finally reaching the classroom —early, as always— the two of you settled in at your desk, unpacking your books, and still whispering despite the empty classroom you found yourselves in. Not even the professor had arrived yet. “He’s always getting in fights, and he’s always in trouble or detention, and— hey! I bet he’s the reason you’ve been getting a string of detentions lately, huh?”
You had no rebuff to that, heat coating your cheeks but you couldn't hide the smile that grew on your face at the mere thought of all your detention time spent together. “He told me not to do that anymore, that’s why he asked for a date! See? He’s good for me.”
“Oh, gee, what a saint he is.” She muttered, eyes rolling so hard you thought they’d fall out. All humour slowly dissipated between you both, and she frowned and opened her notebook, dipping a quill in fresh ink. As the seconds ticked by, tension grew between you both that you didn’t like. 
“Look, I know what people say about him, and the reputation he has, but he’s not like that with me. He’s not been like that with me.” Your hand lifted, scratching your cheek subconsciously. “It’s… not our first date. It’s just the first one I’ve told you about, because I knew you’d react like this. But, if you knew him like I did, you’d understand…”
Your voice trailed off, dreamy with a sigh and she turned to look at you. One of her brows raised as she put down her quill delicately. A beat passed, and her shoulders sagged, a little of the tension slipping free. “He really makes you happy? Because… I’m just worried about you, y’know?”
“I know, and I love you for that. But I just need you to be happy for me right now.”
“He’s going to break your heart. He’s going to make you cry, and hate the world, and I don’t like that.” 
Your hand slipped to hers, taking it in yours and squeezing. Flicking through your mind was the confidence brought on by every sweet word he whispered in your ear. All the soft kisses and touches. They didn’t know the kindness, and the devotion, and the loyalty. 
How could they, when they never gave him a chance? But his friends did, they saw the same side of him that you did. The version of him that would defend their name, and stop at nothing to make them happy. The version of him that didn’t believe the lies and the rumours, and never even looked at any other girls. 
They didn’t know how funny he was, how secretly cuddly he was, or how he just craved a little attention. They didn’t see him on the nights he’d sneak into your dorm just to crawl into bed and hold you, or the flowers he’d drop off outside your door. They didn’t see the love-hearts written on the corners of his notes in class or the way he got grumpy if he went too long without affection. 
You had good taste. You knew you did. It was just a shame nobody else saw it.
 “He won’t, I know he won’t.”
“I hope for your sake he proves me wrong.”
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Mattheo was nothing if not a sweet-talker. He’d spent the morning covering you with kisses, and whispering into your ear about the date he would take you on tonight. By the end of the day, you’d been kissed on every inch of your face, and the husky tone of his voice was still ringing in your ears as he bid you goodbye, and promised to pick you up in a few hours. 
He’d been right on time, too. Knocking at your door at seven on the dot with flowers in hand and a whole new batch of compliments rolling off of his tongue. Gods, did Mattheo love to make you blush. Everything from looking you up and down seductively, to telling you that you were the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen, he did it all. 
He kissed you like you were the only woman in the world, like he wanted you to feel his love and devotion as much as he spoke the words, and you melted into him every time. Whether it was a brush of his lips over your own, or his hands grasping at your body, pulling you so close you nearly fused as his mouth claimed yours, he did all of it so passionately. 
Now, he was kissing your knuckles, guiding you toward one of the more expensive restaurants in Hogsmeade, one you’d never been to before, and grinning at your expression. 
“Matty, this place isn’t cheap!”
“Nothing will be good enough for my girl, but certainly nothing cheap. For now, this is the best I can give to you.” Tugging you in close, the two of you stood outside of the beautifully decorated little building, and he nudged his nose against yours. “One day, I’ll take you all around the world, to eat the best food with the best views.”
“Oh…” Your hands settled on his face, thumbs rubbing across his cheeks as he smiled, and you pressed a kiss on his lips in gratitude as words seemed to escape you entirely. “I love you.”
“I love you more, pretty girl.” His arms were tight around your waist, not quite ready to go yet, and his lips parted like there was something more he had to say. “Listen, when we get in there, I just have to speak to one of the workers real quick, okay?”
“Okay.” It didn’t seem all that concerning to you, and with a final kiss to your lips, he was holding open the restaurant door for you. His hand was warm in your own as he led you through the building. But then he was guiding you right past the hostess station, and you glanced back to it, but his feet never stopped moving, and you hurried to keep up with him. 
Past tables and other workers, your jaw dropped with a soft gasp as he let himself into the back of the restaurant.
“Matty, I don’t think we’re allowed back here…”
“Don’t worry about it, baby.” Mattheo smiled, leaving another kiss on your cheek as he let go of your hand. “Wait here for me, ‘kay? I just need to speak to one of the chefs.”
With that, he was disappearing into the kitchens, and you leaned back against the wall, staring at the clock opposite you. Seconds ticked past, turning into minutes, ten of them, to be precise, before the shouting started. Mattheo was yelling, you’d know his voice anywhere, and when you poked your head around the doorframe and into the kitchen, it was to find him holding a vaguely familiar-looking chef by the collar, and slamming him into a wall. 
“Mattheo!”
Your voice fell on deaf ears, as the two began to push. Mattheo’s back hit the counter behind him, a sickening smack and a grunt of pain, before the two were throwing fists. Every crunch of bones on skin and every rattling sound of a body hitting the workstations and countertops made your stomach turn. You covered your ears, turning your back on it all and shaking your head. 
You didn’t need to see that. 
Eventually, the other chefs stepped in, dragging Mattheo out of the backdoor. When it was all over, you apologised profusely as you hurried through the kitchen to follow after him, hopping over the boy he’d beaten half-senseless who was groaning on the floor. 
Stepping out through the backdoor, Mattheo was pacing, spitting a bloody mouthful out onto the floor, and his head snapped up in your direction. Only when he realised who it was did his gaze soften, and he wiped his palm across the back of his mouth. 
A few seconds of silence passed as the shock settled and you checked he was okay, and when he reached for you, you turned from him. Storming away down the alley, you heard his frustrated groan behind you, the sound of him kicking a trash can, before he was hurrying after you. 
“Okay, I know that wasn’t how the evening was supposed to go—”
“Oh, it wasn’t?” Your laugh was so dry it almost made your chest hurt, and you didn't even bother to look back at him as you began to walk back through Hogsmeade.
“I fucked up, I know—”
“Understatement of the century.” You muttered, ignoring his attempts at excuses and explanations as you wove through the streets. People offered you both funny looks, no doubt because of the blood running from his nose as he tried to stop it, the pair of you mid-argument. 
When you reached the edges of the town, Mattheo fell into step beside you, his hand skimming down your back, burning into you through the thin fabric of your dress. A dress that had been a damn waste to put on.
“Don’t touch me.” You hissed, slapping his hand away from your lower back, and he whined.
“Oh, come on, baby. I’m sorry.”
“You’re not sorry! You planned this, and told me we were going on a date!” Your arms crossed over your chest as you stomped back out of the small village, beginning the walk back towards the school. “You lied to me!”
“Woah, now! Hey! I never lied! I fully intended to—” He huffed as you continued to walk ahead of him, all but speeding in your heels until you wobbled, and he cursed under his breath, catching you to steady you. Spinning you around, he tipped your chin up with one finger. “Listen, pretty girl. I never meant for all this to happen, okay? I meant it when I said I’d made us a reservation. I just figured I’d go and get my money from this guy, maybe even let him off a few galleons so he’d give us better service, and then we’d have a nice date. I didn’t expect him to start a fight!”
“He didn’t start the fight, you did!” You poked a finger into his chest, and he winced. Obviously, you’d found a bruise by mistake. Smoothing your palm over it in way of a silent apology, his hand cupped yours, holding it over his heart. “You said ‘Let’s take this outside’.”
“Okay, well, I was calling his bluff. I didn’t expect him to actually take me up on it!”
Your jaw tightened, and your lip wobbled. You felt ridiculous, you’d gotten all dressed up, and you were hungry, and he’d let you down. At your expression, his own face crumpled, and he sighed sadly as he cupped your cheeks. 
“Please, baby, don’t cry because of me. You look so pretty, you did your makeup so nice, I don’t want you to cry because of me. Let’s just go back and find somewhere else to eat, yeah?”
“I don’t want to, and we can’t! You’re dirty and bleeding, and you’ve got a black eye coming on. We can’t go anywhere.” You muttered, crossing your arms. He leaned in, kissing the corner of your mouth.
“I’m sorry. I love you, more than anything. I really didn’t mean for it to go like this. I won’t let it happen again.”
“Promise me.” You huffed, gaze finally returning to his, and he nodded emphatically. “No more acting stupid in front of me.”
“I promise, sweet girl. I’ll never mix business with pleasure again, okay? When I’m with you, it’s all you.”
Just like that, he had your walls crumbling. How could you stay mad at him, when he smiled so sweetly, and made you feel so special? You gave in, one hand lifting to his cheek, touching gently at the swollen skin around the cut on his face. He hissed and pulled back, and your frown only deepened. “C’mon, you can come to my dorm, I’ll clean you up.”
“You’re gonna’ clean me up?” His smile was like that of a puppy, taking your hand happily and guiding you back along the path. “I tell you what, I’ll force Nott to sneak into the kitchens and make us some pasta, in exchange for the room to himself tonight, how’s that?”
“And where will you be sleeping?” You smirked, and he matched it, shrugging. 
“I don’t know. Maybe the cold, stone floor in front of the common room fireplace.” Your eyes rolled, and he dipped his head, leaving a kiss on your neck. “Or maybe, my loving girlfriend will let me stay over, and I’ll make it worth her while…”
“I don’t want to look at your battered face.”
“Put a pillow over my head and get on top, then.” He snickered, and your jaw dropped.
“Matty!”
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You brushed your fingers through Mattheo’s curls, and a sleepy rumble emanated from him. He nuzzled in a little closer. The tip of his nose rubbed your sternum and his arms tightened around you. He pressed a lazy kiss to your skin through your tee, melting into you further with the sigh he let go. 
You’d spent all day dozing on and off together, lounging in bed, and watching movies. You’d dragged yourself up at some point to grab a book, an attempt to be productive, but Mattheo had quickly put an end to that as he dragged you back into the sheets. Now, the evening was rolling around, the sun was setting, and the stagnation of the day was beginning to become bothersome. 
With another huffed-out sigh, Mattheo lifted his head, a frown on his lips as your hand slipped down to his cheek. He was sleep rumpled, a crease across his cheek from where he’d been lying on you, and you rubbed it soothingly. 
“I could do with some fresh air,” He eventually mumbled, twisting his head to kiss the palm of your hand. “Let’s go for a walk or something.”
Your heart stuttered in your chest. Lately, he’d been getting into all sorts of arguments and fights. Never with you, no, your little disagreements ended with him conceding and kissing you senseless. But, he’d been drawing a lot of extra attention to himself lately, and it wasn’t all that positive. You weren’t so keen to have another date ruined by his fighting or being dragged off to detention. 
“Maybe the courtyard?”
“We could stay here?” You suggested, and he pursed his lips, shaking his head. 
“No, I want to go out. You don’t have to come, baby. I’ll just go for a smoke break, I’m sure Theo is knocking around here somewhere.” With that, he hauled himself up from the bed, and you watched him go. Stretching out muscles that hadn't been utilised all day, you bit your lip, tangled up in the sheets still as you watched him fetch a fresh t-shirt and tug it on, before searching for a pair of jeans. 
You couldn't very well let him go alone, if he did, he’d smoke, and you hated that. But if you did go with him, you’d spend the whole time trying to stop him from riling up the Gryffindors he seemed to be having so many problems with recently. 
He found a pair, tugging them up his legs and buttoning them at his waist. He was determined to go then, and you rolled over to prop your head up on your arm. 
“I really can’t convince you to stay?” You teased, sneaking a bare leg out from under the covers that led all the way up, and giving him a flash of what else lay underneath. Rolling onto your stomach and letting the sheets fall, his eyes fell straight to the skimpy little bit of lace you’d donned earlier, barely classifying as underwear at all. 
He groaned, rubbing a hand over his face. “I’m gonna’ need a few more hours before I can go again, pretty girl. No matter how much you tease me with that little thong of yours.”
It was futile, once his mind was set, it was done. “Alright, fine.” You murmured, lips puckering as he leaned over the bed to give you a quick kiss. “I’ll come with you.”
“You will?” His face lit up, and guilt instantly flooded you. 
It wasn’t necessarily his fault. It was just a part of his culture. He’d been raised on impulsivity and violence and arguments. You knew all about his home life, his childhood and his upbringing. He’d had a rough time of it, the grizzly truth unveiled to you between late-night kisses and midnights at the tower as he smoked. You were surprised he even possessed the limited emotional functions he did, unlike his brother. You were supposed to guide him, to help him see better, to love him right and show him the purity of it. 
He tugged on your hands, an excited smile on his face as he helped you out of the sheets. He found your denim skirt on the floor, holding it out for you and letting you balance on his shoulders as you wobbled into it. 
“How about the forest, instead?”
At least there would be fewer people there. He nodded his head, swiping a kiss to your cheek as he mumbled a spell to set the bed off on making itself. “Whatever you want, baby.”
It would surely end badly, something or someone would send him into a spiral. But, until that happened, you wanted to soak up every second of that smile on his face, that you put there so easily. How anyone could think he was bad, when he smiled so sweetly, was beyond you. 
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You brushed your fingers through Mattheo’s curls, and a sleepy rumble emanated from him. He nuzzled in a little closer. The tip of his nose rubbed your sternum and his arms tightened around you. He pressed a lazy kiss to your skin through your tee, melting into you further with the sigh he let go. 
You’d spent all day dozing on and off together, lounging in bed, and watching movies. You’d dragged yourself up at some point to grab a book, an attempt to be productive, but Mattheo had quickly put an end to that as he dragged you back into the sheets. Now, the evening was rolling around, the sun was setting, and the stagnation of the day was beginning to become bothersome. 
With another huffed-out sigh, Mattheo lifted his head, a frown on his lips as your hand slipped down to his cheek. He was sleep rumpled, a crease across his cheek from where he’d been lying on you, and you rubbed it soothingly. 
“I could do with some fresh air,” He eventually mumbled, twisting his head to kiss the palm of your hand. “Let’s go for a walk or something.”
Your heart stuttered in your chest. Lately, he’d been getting into all sorts of arguments and fights. Never with you, no, your little disagreements ended with him conceding and kissing you senseless. But, he’d been drawing a lot of extra attention to himself lately, and it wasn’t all that positive. You weren’t so keen to have another date ruined by his fighting or being dragged off to detention. 
“Maybe the courtyard?”
“We could stay here?” You suggested, and he pursed his lips, shaking his head. 
“No, I want to go out. You don’t have to come, baby. I’ll just go for a smoke break, I’m sure Theo is knocking around here somewhere.” With that, he hauled himself up from the bed, and you watched him go. Stretching out muscles that hadn't been utilised all day, you bit your lip, tangled up in the sheets still as you watched him fetch a fresh t-shirt and tug it on, before searching for a pair of jeans. 
You couldn't very well let him go alone, if he did, he’d smoke, and you hated that. But if you did go with him, you’d spend the whole time trying to stop him from riling up the Gryffindors he seemed to be having so many problems with recently. 
He found a pair, tugging them up his legs and buttoning them at his waist. He was determined to go then, and you rolled over to prop your head up on your arm. 
“I really can’t convince you to stay?” You teased, sneaking a bare leg out from under the covers that led all the way up, and giving him a flash of what else lay underneath. Rolling onto your stomach and letting the sheets fall, his eyes fell straight to the skimpy little bit of lace you’d donned earlier, barely classifying as underwear at all. 
He groaned, rubbing a hand over his face. “I’m gonna’ need a few more hours before I can go again, pretty girl. No matter how much you tease me with that little thong of yours.”
It was futile, once his mind was set, it was done. “Alright, fine.” You murmured, lips puckering as he leaned over the bed to give you a quick kiss. “I’ll come with you.”
“You will?” His face lit up, and guilt instantly flooded you. 
It wasn’t necessarily his fault. It was just a part of his culture. He’d been raised on impulsivity and violence and arguments. You knew all about his home life, his childhood and his upbringing. He’d had a rough time of it, the grizzly truth unveiled to you between late-night kisses and midnights at the tower as he smoked. You were surprised he even possessed the limited emotional functions he did, unlike his brother. You were supposed to guide him, to help him see better, to love him right and show him the purity of it. 
He tugged on your hands, an excited smile on his face as he helped you out of the sheets. He found your denim skirt on the floor, holding it out for you and letting you balance on his shoulders as you wobbled into it. 
“How about the Lake, instead?”
At least there would be fewer people there. He nodded his head, swiping a kiss to your cheek as he mumbled a spell to set the bed off on making itself. “Whatever you want, baby.”
It would surely end badly, something or someone would send him into a spiral. But, until that happened, you wanted to soak up every second of that smile on his face, that you put there so easily. How anyone could think he was bad, when he smiled so sweetly, was beyond you.“Baby, wake up.” The words were mumbled tenderly into your ear, and you groaned a little at the hand gently shaking your shoulder. “Come on, pretty girl, open those eyes.”
“What, Matty? It’s the middle of the night.”
“I know, that’s why it’s the perfect time!” Excitement tinged his voice, and as you forced your eyelids open, you found him standing at the edge of your bed, wand lit up dimly, and your coat in his hand. “Get up, baby. We’re going for a walk.”
“Now?”
“Yes. You don’t think the stars and the moon are romantic? Isn’t there just something… better about the night?”
Your smile was against your will, sitting up slowly and swinging your feet out of the bed, suppressing a yawn. “You’re lucky I wore full pyjamas to bed tonight.”
“You mean I could’ve walked in here to find you naked?” He clasped a hand over his heart, letting out a pained groan. He handed you his wand to hold, before dropping to his knees before you. 
“No, you perv! I meant that I’m wearing full-leg pyjamas, not my shorts!”
He only snickered to himself, while navigating your trainers onto your feet and tying the laces up for you. Once they were secure, he took his wand back, sliding it into his back pocket and clasping your hands in his own. With a kiss on your lips, he wrapped the warm coat over your shoulders. “Ready?”
“As I’ll ever be, Matty.”
He grinned at that, taking your hand, and leading you through the silent halls. Twigs snapped under your feet as you crossed the courtyard together, giggling and shushing each other, and you had to admit that he was right. Both the adrenaline of it all, and the beauty of the scenery, made for the perfect blend of excitement and romance. 
As you cleared the school building and began to make your way out across the fields, Mattheo’s arm looped around your waist, supporting you through every dip and hole in the grass, never letting you so much as stumble. 
“Nearly there.” He whispered into the cold night air as you approached the quidditch grounds, the different house flags blowing gently in the summer breeze. 
“Nearly where? I thought we were just going for a walk.”
He didn’t reply, and only a couple of steps later, the barely concealed voices of several of his friends carried across the pitch towards you both. “Mattheo Riddle, I swear to Merlin, if you’ve brought me along on one of your ridiculous schemes—” You shrieked, cutting yourself off as one of the Weasley’s firecrackers shot past your head, between the two of you, and Theodore’s laughter echoed out, following it. 
“Oi, Nott, watch it. If that’d hit my girl, the next thing to be hit would be your face on the fuckin’ concrete.”
“Relax, she ducked! No harm, no foul. Right, principessa?” Theo smirked, seeming to appear from the shadows as he sparked his lighter, and brought the flame to the end of his cigarette. Lorenzo was there too, a bag over one shoulder that rattled suspiciously as he came towards the three of you, and your arms crossed protectively over your body. 
“Matty, what is this?”
“Don’t flirt with my girl in Italian.” Mattheo glared at his friend, but it soon melted away as he was handed the cigarette, and Theo tucked his hands into his pockets, appraising you. 
“This, bella, is revenge.”
“What did I just say about the Italian—?”
“Why do you need revenge?” Your words crossed Mattheo’s who only huffed, but remained quiet as he passed the cigarette beyond you to Enzo. Nobody answered, and your boyfriend shuffled from one foot to the other as your narrowed gaze turned on him. “Mattheo.”
“The Gryffindors were talking shot about our upcoming game, and McLaggen and his mates thought it’d be funny to charm all our jerseys pink for practice, so we’re just getting even.”
“Why do I get the feeling that whatever you’re about to do is far beyond ‘even’? Pink jerseys don’t seem equal to… whatever you’re doing here. I want no part of it.” You spun on your heel, but didn’t get very far, not even a single step, before Mattheo was wrapping an arm around your waist, and pulling you into himself. You jabbed a finger into his chest, putting the full heat of your wrath into your stare, “You said we were going for a walk!”
“We are! We did. Look, this is gonna’ be fun, you’ll see. I know how much that one Gryffindor chick has been pissing you off lately. I'm getting revenge for you too, here!” He cupped your cheek, running his thumb over your lips, before planting a kiss there. “I’m avenging you, baby.”
He took your hand, pulling you along behind him with the kind of infectious excitement that made you smile, even when you didn’t want to. Sitting down on one of the benches, you watched with an amused smile at the way he and his friends whispered conspiratorially amongst themselves as they thought through just what they might do. 
That innocent adoration you had didn’t last long.
You’d been expecting a few stink bombs in lockers and foul-smelling potions tipped into the shower drains that would stink for weeks. Maybe even a hex or two for inconvenience. A shriek burst past your lips as another of Theodore’s rockets shot past your head, screeching as it went and your hands clasped over your ears. 
He was letting them off, inside. Glitter exploded everywhere, the few flaming pieces of ash sprinkling down eroded holes in the towels and jerseys hanging on hooks around the locker room. Glass shattered somewhere, and Theo all but howled with laughter as the rocket shot off into the night sky to fizzle out with a colourful bang.
Enzo was spray-painting something on the walls in the shower room, following his rude and physically impossible message spray-painted on the inside of the door that he was still snickering to himself about. 
Mattheo was systematically unlocking all of the cupboards, and placing a different bad-luck hex on every single piece of equipment. After leaving a sporadic spiral-dive hex on one of the brooms and putting it back, you’d had enough. 
Sweeping your hair out of your eyes, you stood, making your way over to his side. “Matty…”
“Yeah, baby?” He was distracted as he mumbled his response, careful wand-work as he charmed one of the beater’s bats to flop like wet spaghetti every time they tried to hit something. 
“Mattheo.”
At your tone, and the use of his full name, he looked up. He took in the nervous expression on your face, the sad and pouty frown on your lips, and sighed. “What’s the matter?”
“Don’t you think this is a bit much?”
“They were talking shit about us!”
“You're risking really hurting someone, though!” You gestured around, from his handiwork to the broken window and glass fragments on the floor. “You’re actually damaging school property!”
“A few spells will have it cleaned up in no time. Don’t be dramatic.”
You gaped at him for a second, before walking away, turning your back to him and plopping down back onto the bench with a huff. Behind you, you heard him kick something, swearing under his breath, before he stepped back into your sight. When you didn’t look up at him, he dropped down to his knees, forcing himself into your line of vision. 
He has his puppy dog eyes on, and pressed a kiss to each of your hands as he took them in his own. “I didn’t mean it like that, pretty girl. I just meant… you don’t get it. This is what we do. You’re just too sweet for this, you wouldn't hurt a fly. But this could be so much worse, it’s all a bit of fun, just trust me, yeah? I’m getting them back, for me, and for you.”
“But it’s a lot. And I never asked you to get even for me.” You whispered, and he nodded. 
“You don’t have to ask. I protect you, that’s what I do. It’s you and me, baby. For life.” You softened a little at that, and he noticed, his smile growing again as he knelt up, pressing a sweet kiss to your lips. “I won’t do anymore, how’s that? I’ll round up the boys, and we’ll get out of—”
Just then, voices flickered through the room. The angry, panicked shouting of at least six different people, rapidly got louder as they neared the space you occupied. Enzo clambered up onto one of the window ledges, and peered out of the broken glass. “Oh, shit. They know. ‘Least ten Lions, coming this way. And fast. Fucking go!”
The first spell bounced through the open glass, sending shards flying as it caught the last of the jagged spikes still on the frame, just as Enzo ducked out of the way. Theo scrabbled past, and out of the back door, Enzo quickly following, and you jumped to your feet as Mattheo did. 
Another spell burst through, bouncing on the locked door, and the muffled voices of your accomplices felt a million miles away as fear struck through your body. The door rattled again, the lock creaking as the half-arsed spell they’d sealed it with threatened to give way. The pounding of your heart in your chest was deafening, roaring in your ears—
Then, a hand clamped down on yours, pulling you along. “Baby girl, let’s go! Come on, what are you doing?”
Mattheo tugged on your hand, like a splash of cold water the jolt he made snapped you to your senses. You stumbled after him, staring at his bouncing curls and the flush of his cheeks as he looked at you, guiding you out of the backdoor and into the night. Stumbling down the hill, the two of you ran so fast you almost fell several times, angry shouts following you out into the night as flashes and flickers of bright spells whizzed past you constantly. 
You let Mattheo guide you, running until your lungs burned and your chest ached from your pounding heart, but you’d lost them. You’d lost Theo and Enzo, too. Silence shrouded you both as you finally came to a stop, only the lapping water at the shore of the lake and both of your soft pants to break the heavy quiet.
He turned to you, one hand lifting to tuck some hair behind your ear, and you glared at him as he leaned in to kiss one of your no-doubt flushed cheeks. 
“You are so beautiful.” He whispered, knuckles still tracing up and down your jaw as he stared at you under the moonlight. 
“I’m so mad at you for that. I hate running, and panicking, and vandalising. All the things I hate, you just wrapped ‘em up in one.”
He smiled something wicked, and leaned in, to bump his nose with your own. “You love me, though.”
“Debatable, right now.” Your scoff was lost as he pressed soft kisses to your lips, coaxing you into remembering just how much you loved him. You were ashamed to say that it worked, as you parted your mouth a little more to reciprocate. 
You felt his smile pressed to your mouth as he did, that hand on your cheek smoothing out, fingers in your hair as he cupped your head, and angled your face for a deeper kiss. 
You were once again both panting by the time he pulled away, satisfied and smitten. 
“Come on, my angry girl. Let’s go for that walk now, yeah? Just me and you for a stroll around the lake.”
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You winced as another cracking sounded out, the echo of Mattheo’s fist against the cocky Ravenclaw’s jaw had your stomach rolling. A boy you’d never much cared about. He was entitled and arrogant, and tended to run his mouth a little too much. He thought he was the best thing to grace the halls of Hogwarts, and a blessing to womankind, and you’d caught his eyes on you a couple of times. 
Of course, you’d never mentioned as much to Mattheo, in hopes of sparing him this exact situation. Mattheo didn’t take kindly to lingering gazes, and he didn’t tolerate leering ones at all. He was protective, overprotective, and he was a little bit crazy. He was also in love, and in his opinion, the cat-call the Ravenclaw had given to you and the choice words he’d accompanied it had crossed a line.
And they said Ravenclaws were the smart ones.
So, Mattheo hadn't hesitated. He’d dropped your hand, curled it into a fist, and swung on the boy before he’d even finished smirking at your shocked look. 
Now, you were sighing, as he took the Ravenclaw down to the ground, uncaring of the blow to his shoulder as the two rolled over the stone floors. Scuffling and throwing blows, a crowd formed around them, jostling you endlessly from side to side. He was winning, as always, beating the poor boy into the same blue as his house banners, and no amount of pleading on your behalf to just drop it was going to stop him now. 
You should’ve been halfway to Hogsmeade by now. You’d never make your reservation, and you’d gotten yourself all dressed up for nothing. Hours wasted on hair and make-up and picking out the perfect outfit for this date, all for Mattheo’s impulsive temper and one gross creep to ruin it.
The two continued to brawl, fists slamming, feet kicking, and blood splattering as the crowd cheered and shouted so loud it was deafening. You’d learnt it the hard way a long time ago that you couldn't do anything to stop him now, not when he got into this state, without risking getting hurt yourself. All you could do was wait, and hope.
Finally, the Gryffindor prefect stepped in. He was a sturdy man, broad-shouldered and thick-muscled, as was his friend, as the two grabbed for one of Mattheo’s arms each, pulling him off and to his feet. Blood streamed from his nose, and he grinned, pink tainting his teeth before he spat at the boy curling up on the floor. 
“You be fucking glad they stopped me, because I wouldn't have!” 
“For fuck’s sake…” You muttered, the heat of embarrassment crawling up your cheeks as several gazes fell on you. Elbowing his way through the crowd was an equally red Professor Slughorn, but his flush was from anger. 
“Riddle! Of course, it’s a Riddle. You can take yourself to detention.”
A whine slipped free from your throat as you crossed your arms over your chest. Mattheo attempted to shake off the two prefects, wiping his nose with his sleeve and wincing at the feeling. He shrugged, “I can’t tonight, professor. I have plans.”
“I don’t care! Detention, now!” 
Stepping over the Ravenclaw still whimpering at your feet, Mattheo smiled what you assumed was supposed to be a seductive grin at you as you neared him. With the split of his lip, the stain of dried blood on his face, and the splotchy swelling along his nose and jaw, it didn’t quite hit the mark anymore. You were too angry to fall for it. 
“So you’re bailing on our date, again?” Your lip wobbled, arms crossed your chest as you tried to glare at him, but the stinging in your throat betrayed you as your voice cracked. 
“Don’t cry, baby, you did your make-up so nice. I’ll make it up to you, I swear.” He leaned in, lowering his voice in an attempt for intimacy, despite the Gryffindors tugging on his arms. “I love you.”
You sighed, but released your anger, cupping his face softly so as not to aggravate the painful patches further. “I love you too.”
His lips barely brushed your own before Slughorn was grabbing him by his collar, and yanking him away through the crowds towards detention. Once he was gone, the cowering boy on the floor dragged himself to his feet, his friends hauling him away, and he made the wise decision not to even glance in your direction. 
Even as the crowd parted and you made your way back to your dorm, the lingering feeling of anger petered out to immense disappointment. 
Your reflection was frowning as you stared at yourself in the mirror, pretty outfit and stunning makeup, all going to waste while your boyfriend rotted the night away in detention. 
Detention. 
The same place where your relationship had started, and a ridiculous idea began to root itself in your mind. Tipping out the contents of your school bag, your books and quills scattered across the bedding, and you repacked it with what you’d need instead. 
With a fresh spritz of perfume and a new swipe of lipgloss, you left your dorm, heels clicking against the stone as you hurried yourself along on your mission. The doors were spelled against sneaking out of detention, but sneaking in was surely a different case. 
Your suspicions were confirmed as you pushed the door open, the loud creak echoing through the room, but you were granted entry as you stepped inside. The door slammed shut behind you, and yet, Flitwick didn’t so much as flinch from where he was snoozing atop the desk at the front of the classroom. Mattheo watched with widening eyes and tissues pressed to his nose as you walked through the aisles and took a seat beside him at the desk he’d claimed as his own. 
“What’re you doin’ here, baby?”
You scoffed at his muffled voice, swinging your bag off your shoulder and onto the desk, before sitting down. Taking his hands in your own, you pulled them back, inspecting the damage he’d made to his pretty face. “It’s date night. I wasn’t going to let you sit in here all alone, when I put effort into looking this good.”
Your whispered words made him grin, and you took the tissues from his hands, dabbling softly at the last of the blood. When it was gone, you rifled through your bag instead, producing a small vial of swirling purple liquid. Upon seeing it, he groaned. “Oh, no, I hate those. They taste gross and musty.”
“Maybe if you hadn't done this to yourself, you wouldn't have to take it.” You uncapped the vial, and as the smell drifted to him, he gagged. You raised it to his lips, and he offered a sullen look but parted them for you to tip it into his mouth. Swallowing it came with a grimace, and you wiped your thumb over his lips to get rid of the sticky residue it left. Within seconds, the swelling on his jaw was going down, the cut on his nose was healing over, and the nasty bruising under his eyes was fading away. “That’s better. My pretty boy is back.”
He blushed at that but offered a cheeky grin, and leaned in to kiss you sweetly. Before his lips could meet yours, you swerved, and he grunted unhappily as his mouth landed on your cheek instead. 
“You’re not kissing me while you still taste like that gross potion.”
“Typical.” He mumbled, but left a few more peppered kisses along your jaw. You worked as he did, laying out the various snacks you’d brought with you along the table, and as he caught sight of the chocolate frog, an excited gasp slipped free. He snatched the frog up quickly, tearing off the foil wrapper and snapping off a leg. 
He lifted it to your lips, always offering you the first bite, and you let him feed it to you while he watched on. Happy you’d taken it, he snapped off another, dropping the chunk into his mouth and chewing happily. 
“God, I love you so fucking much,” He sighed as he finished eating, finally leaning in to claim this kiss he had been denied earlier. “I’m gonna’ marry you someday.”
“Yeah, and you’ll probably get yourself arrested on the big day.” Your voice was bitter but your smile was the same as whenever he talked of his plans or your joint future. He knew you were bluffing too, closing the gap between you both once again, and nipping gently on your bottom lip. 
“I always come back to you though, baby.”
That made you kiss him properly because you had no retort to offer. It was true, he always found his way back to you. He was crazy, reckless, and impulsive, but he was in love with you, and he didn’t care to hide it. 
Not from the others in the detention room, not from the people in the halls, not from anyone on this earth. It was the two of you together, he’d never leave you behind or let you down, and you could trust him in that. 
So, maybe he did prove ‘em right. But he also proved you right. Mattheo Riddle was so much more than they all said he was. He was loyal and loving, and he was yours.
4K notes · View notes
lovetei · 1 year
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Things that the citizens of the Devildom witnessed that will prove that this Human have the characters at their beck and call
Versions: The Brothers, Side characters
Warnings: Gender neutral pronouns for MC, Cussing, Slight yandere themes (Belphegor, Asmodeus)
Links: Masterlist
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LUCIFER
This demon likes sticking to rules
Running on hallways? Detention
Eating during class? Detention
Not paying attention to class? Detention
No one is safe...
Except for one person.
The cafeteria if filled with loud noises, your voice shouting profanities to another demon specifically.
Everyone listening to the argument feels like they're stomach is about to burst out of nervousness because "What if Lucifer randomly comes in and put all of us is detention because we just stood by and didn't do anything to stop the fight?!"
And he did.
But what surprised them is that he didn't shout or anything, he just stood there for a few second and scanned the crowd looking for one of his brothers.
Spotted Mammon and came close to him before whispering something among themselves.
And then he just stood there
Doing nothing
As if it's just fucking okay to let a human, the exchange student at that, to scream and curse a demon because he won't cooperate into this project.
And when the demon started cursing back at you, the rules are suddenly so strict as if cussing will cause the end of the 8 rings of hell.
The demon is sent to detention, removed from the group, suspended, and many more.
And who knows? Maybe you pulled just a few strings to have that demon expelled.
But what the citizens sure know is that they never saw anyone again after talking to MC like that.
MAMMON
It was cute
Mammon would do anything for you, no matter how big or small it is.
One day, Mammon was spotted running around the halls of RAD.
Looking like he's getting chased by Lucifer, again.
But surprisingly, he's not.
He's just running around the school fetching your fan, notebooks, bag, pens, water or some snacks.
One time, you two were put in a group for this project and were talking about it with your other group mates.
Then you hit him with a "Mammon, I left my notebook on my desk in the potions class, can you fetch it for me?"
With just a blink of an eye, Mammon who was leaning on your shoulder just a few minutes ago is gone.
And with another blink of an eye he's there again with your notebook on his hands then he's back to leaning on your shoulder again as if he didn't just go to the other side of the school for a notebook.
LEVIATHAN
He's introverted
He won't go out his room if it's just for some lame party
I also headcanons for him to be the most unseen brother
Or like him having the smallest amount of photo and information online because he just won't go out.
Yeah, he won't go out if it's just some small, lame party but if Diavolo hosts it, what exactly can he do?
"Do you think the avatar of envy will attend this party?"
"Ha! No way... Lord Leviathan won't attend small parties or gatherings like these unless Lord Diavolo hosts it himself."
"Lord Leviathan really has a high standard when it comes to gatherings..."
And then poof
He's there
Beside you
A happy go lucky sheep beside a gloomy snake
What a match
And if you ask him why he would attend such gatherings when it's totally not even his style he would just go like "MC."
"What can I do? MC really wants to see the fireworks display."
"MC wants me to escort them."
So they got the hint on how to make Levi attend gatherings, either have Diavolo host it or invite MC too.
SATAN
He's angry
But not angry enough to yell when MC is around
Man's can go from 👹 to ☺️ real quick as soon as he felt MC's prescense
He doesn't know why too, but whenever he yell while you're around he thinks he'll fall out of favor
"WELL MAYBE IF YOU'RE SO PERFECT THEN WHY DON'T YOU GO AROUND WHILE YOU HAVE YOUR HEAD FAR UP YOUR ASS- Oh, Hi MC? How are you?"
He'll talk so sweet in front you and then when you turn around you can see some veins popping out of his neck and forehead.
And if he can't really handle it and went berserk in your prescense another scary yet amazing thing you can is to put your hand on his body.
Shoulder, head, neck, wrist, arm, wherever it is.
Just pat him or link your arms with him and he will start to calm down.
ASMODEUS
People headcanon him to like it when you're obsessed with him but I think he's more obsessed to you.
Like he's down bad
You can do anything and he'll literally fawn all over it
"Look at the way they run their hands through their hair!"
"Look at how they work!"
"The way they hold that fork is so graceful~"
Literally, you're the only person that comes to his mind when someone said pretty
Except for himself of course
But I swear, whenever someone caught him staring at you the atmosphere gets so thick
You don't even know why but the atmosphere is heavy and the air suddenly smells so sweet
And those heart in his eyes, the way his pupils dilate
Yeah, you have this man worshipping you alongside himself
BEELZEBUB
Other than the fact that he's actually willing to share his food with you
He's willing to help you in any physical works
Like lifting up things, carrying your stuffs and sometimes even running errands for you
I mean, he actually doesn't do it a lot because Lucifer actually asks Mammon for this stuff because the things Lucifer needs to be done is a little...
Shady?
And he doesn't want to taint Beel's innocence.
So now since you're already a part of the student council when Lucifer needs to have something important finished but it requires physical work.
You and Beel will be partnered
And he doesn't have anything against it either
He likes it so much when you command him to do something actually
I mean, he's tall and buff but Lucifer won't ask him to do anything that includes hard labor except taking care of Belphegor
So you actually helping him make use of all those muscles made him feel a tinge of happiness
He feels like he's actually of use :)
BELPHEGOR
This little brat
He would kill for you and he means it
He's not scared to spill blood on broad daylight as long as it's for you
Someone bothered you? Dead
Oh this person annoyed you? Taken care of
Aw~ He told you you're cute and asked you out on a date? That's sweet! Dead.
He's just like that
He won't tolerate anyone who dared disrespect you
And Lucifer won't even put a stop into this
"I mean, Devildom is quite overpopulated and we don't want anyone disrespecting Lord Diavolo's plan on bringing the three realms together now." Is what he reasons everytime.
Oh, he also wakes up on command as long as it's you.
Lucifer and his brothers could be shaking him like he's dead and he won't even bother to open his eyes
But if you just pulled a "Belphie? Good morning..." Oh dear, he's wide awake and clinging to you.
10K notes · View notes
mrsbarnesblog · 9 months
Text
for you
masterlist ko-fi ao3
Summary: Mattheo gets into another fight with a new guy and when Professor McGonnagal surprisingly do not punishes your boyfriend for it, you discover what she really thinks about your relationships.
Word count: 2.6k
Warnings: established relationships, protective boyfriend Matty, fights, insults and creepy guys, language, mentions of blood, hints of sex at the end.
Author's note: idk, the summary kinda sucks, but I couldn't think of anything better. basically it's just me being McGonnagal's fan and a simp for Mattheo 😘
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Mattheo was sitting with his friends on one of the benches outside the castle. He was partly listening to whatever Blaise was saying about the next Quidditch game, more thinking about you and about the fact that he almost didn’t see you during the day. 
He was completely lost in his thoughts until he heard your name slip out of the new guy’s, Eddie's, mouth. He and another Ravenclaw student were sitting not far away, and Mattheo’s attention was immediately drawn to their conversation.
“Yeah, that girl Y/N, right? I tried to talk to her during the lecture but she acted like a total bitch.” The guy laughed, elbowing his housemate as if he said something funny. Mattheo’s fist tightened, and he tried to hear more to figure out whether they were talking about you or not. 
“Wait, dude.” The other guy chuckled, almost in shock. “You mean that Y/N? Riddle’s girl? You tried to hit on her? Nah, you better drop that shit. It’s like serious between them and all, no one usually bothers her because Riddle goes crazy about it.”
“Don’t care, man. I’ll find a way to get to her. I know she’s gonna be a total freak in bed, I will find a way to fuck her.“
Mattheo just snapped, jumping out of his place in a matter of seconds. Before one of his friends or even Eddie realized what was going on, Mattheo had already dragged him to the floor, punching his face. 
“Wanna repeat what the fuck you just said about her?” He hissed at the guy, making another hit into the jaw. 
“I said that she looked fuckable.” 
It turned into a total mess, with them fighting on the ground and other students staring like it was some kind of show. The crowd got bigger, but Mattheo did not care about it at all; he was too busy with the way his knuckles met that ugly face. 
Only a few minutes later, Blaise, Theo, and Draco dragged Mattheo away, while a few Ravenclaw students restrained Eddie. 
Mattheo was almost uncontrollable, puffing and trying to escape from the firm hands that were holding him in place. 
You heard that your boyfriend got into another fight, but as Luna said, it was something bigger and that he was even more violent today. 
You brushed through the crowd, immediately standing before Mattheo’s eyes to catch his attention. You placed both of your hands on his chest and quickly nodded to his friends to let him go. As soon as he became free, he tried to push forward, almost radiating anger. The fact that Eddie was proudly smiling behind your back did not help the situation. 
“No. Mattheo, stop it. What’s going on?” You felt the way he was breathing, as if he had run a few miles, and it was mostly anger. His face had a few drops of blood; the brow and lip were cut, and you knew that you would have to clean them up later, but now you only wanted him to calm down and speak to you properly. 
“Hey, baby. Remember me?” The voice behind your back made you turn your head around, only now seeing the guy your boyfriend was fighting with. It was a new student from another school who was annoying you during your class and almost got you two in detention. You wanted to slap him so badly for the way he was talking to you, but you knew that the best way to deal with such people was to ignore them. They were always thriving on any type of attention. He looked much worse than Mattheo. Already blossoming bruises under his eye, on the jaw, and blood running out of his nose, and when he gave you that nasty smile, you saw his red teeth too. "C'mon, that’s why you were ignoring me, huh? Voldemort’s son? You could find someone better to fuck.”
“I’m gonna fucking kill him.” You felt how Mattheo moved forward again, but you slightly pushed him back. You lifted one of them to his cheek, caressing it in slow circles. 
“No, you’re not. He's not worth it, Matty. Hey, look at me, please.” You put a slight pressure on his face to distract him and make him set his eyes on you. You had seen him during the fights before, but this time it was different. The way Mattheo’s eyes were completely dark, slightly narrowed, and full of rage, his face expression was so cold and nothing like you got used to. For a moment, you understood why sometimes even his friends preferred not to step in. 
Eddie pissed you off during the previous lesson, where he decided to sit with you, chat, and flirt. You tried to pay as little attention to him as possible, completely uninterested in the jerk with no manners and a big ego. He got to school just a few days ago but you already hated him with your whole heart. 
Though you couldn’t let your boyfriend start the fight again. Eddie was clearly provoking him with that weirdly satisfied grin on his face and rude words, probably so later he could say that the Dark Lord’s son was trying to kill him. 
Mattheo's eyes were ruining between your face and Eddie behind your back, as if he were trying to make a decision. Your fingers didn’t stop moving in slow motion on his jaw and you thought that you felt some tension leaving his body. 
“I hate the way he was talking about you.” He said it roughly, trying to control his body and emotions. Yes, Mattheo’s eyes were full of anger, but there was something deeper. He was hurt. 
“I know, Matty, I know.” You stepped a bit closer to distract your overprotective boyfriend. At that moment, you almost forgot that you were in front of everyone and all the students are going to gossip about your interaction for the next week. “He’s provoking you. He wants to make you the bad guy. Don’t let him do that, please. We should just leave, okay?” You almost whispered, not breaking eye contact.
“Yeah, Matty, listen to your little girlfriend if you don’t want to—”
“Mr. Carmichael!” The loud, stern voice of Professor McGonnagal interrupted whatever he wanted to say and everyone went quiet for a few seconds. “You are not allowed to speak in this tone inside our school. Mr. Carmichael, Mr. Riddle and Ms. Y/L/N, follow me to my office, and everyone else must go back to their classes.”
“But Professor, Y/N didn't do anything wrong!” Mattheo protested, on instinct, placing his hand on your back and stepping closer. 
“I said all three of you should go to my office, Mr. Riddle. Now.” Without another word, she left. Mattheo cursed near you, blaming himself for getting you into trouble, but you gave him a reassuring smile and, interlacing your hands, led him to McGonnagal’s office. 
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As soon as you walked in, Mattheo stood, separating you and Eddie so he wouldn’t be able to talk or even look at you. 
“Are any of you willing to tell me what exactly happened there?” McConnagal sat in her chair, observing all of you. You stayed in front of her in silence.
“I punched him because he was saying inappropriate things about Y/N, Professor.” Mattheo briefly looked at you and you slightly squeezed his hand in yours in return. You saw how McGonnagal looked at your hands but you did not pull away, willing to show your boyfriend that you weren’t mad or blaming him. 
“Is that so?” She looked at you. 
“I wasn’t there when the fight started, but Eddie was bothering me earlier during the lessons. He made a few comments about me, even though I asked him to leave me alone, so I assume that it might’ve been the reason for Mattheo to do it.” 
“Liar.” 
“Mr. Carmichael, you are not in the position to talk back right now. That is quite impressive that you were able to get into the fight without even being here for weak. You are getting a detention, plus you’ll help Professor Snape after tomorrow's lesson. He’ll be happy to deal with you, I’m sure. Also, 20 points from Ravenclaw.” McGonnagal ignored his dramatic groan, now looking at Mattheo. Judging by the tension in his body, he was ready for the worst. “What about you, Mr. Riddle…” She briefly looked at you, and you didn’t really understand what it meant. “This time, I’m only giving you a warning: in Hogwarts, we do not support any kind of violence. You may be free.” 
“That’s unfair! I’m covered in blood because of him. Are you really not going to punish the Dark Lord’s son? He could’ve killed me!” 
“One more word and I’m taking away more points. You both are free, but you, Ms. Y/L/N, please stay for a few minutes.” 
“But she— Professor, please don’t do this.” Mattheo stepped closer to her desk and you thought that he sounded as if he had suddenly panicked. It was strange. 
“Hey, Mattheo, don’t worry about me. I promise, it’s okay.” You pulled him back, curiously looking at his weird behaviour. “Just wait for me outside, please. It won’t be long.” He stared at you for a moment, but then kissed you on the cheek and went out of the room. 
“It’s truly magical to see the kind of love you two share, my dear.” McGonnagal softly laughed and you felt the heat on your cheeks. “Come sit here, please.” McGonnagal pointed to the chair in front of her desk. 
“What did you want to talk about, professor?” 
“Well, I know that this is not my place to interfere, but I wanted to say that you and Mr. Riddle share something really rare and special. And while I do not support his physical way of dealing with problems, I know that he deeply cares about you, darling, and this is how he expresses it.” It was weird to hear such words from someone else. You always respected Professor McGonnagal and the fact that she said that made your heart fill with even more love. 
“Was it the reason why you didn’t punish him for the fight?” She nodded. 
“Mattheo is a really smart boy with a kind heart and a good chance to have a really successful and wonderful life. The only thing that may ruin it is his family; I'm sure you understand that.” McGonnagal looked at you with a soft smile on her lips. “I see the way you affect him. How he became less distant during the lessons, started smiling more, and that you two are always connected no matter what. Everyone noticed it, even us professors. You may be the only bright thing in his life, my dear; that’s why I want you to ask to be there and not let him slip into the darkness. I just know that such love is so pure and strong and I hope it’ll live as long as the world exists.”
“Um– thank you, professor. I don’t even have enough words to express myself, but I appreciate your support. I’ll do everything in my power to save it.” You suddenly felt extremely emotional after this talk, and the only thing that you wanted to do right now was to be in your boyfriend’s arms. 
“Now go. He's probably losing his mind because of you being there for so long. 
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Mattheo did wait for you near McGonnagal’s office and when you walked out of there with slightly glossy eyes and a soft smile, his facial expression changed into something sad and cold, which you did not quite understand. As usual, after his fights, you went into his dorm, but the walk there was weirdly quiet. 
When you walked into his dorm and then to the bathroom, where you usually cleaned his wounds, he just followed you, hopping onto the counter near the sink and waiting while you prepared the first aid kit.
“Are you okay?” You stepped in between his legs, holding his face with your left hand and the wet towel in the other. You wiped the dried blood and then applied salve. “You’re acting kind of weird.”
He stayed silent for a few seconds, as if he were considering his words. “Are you going to break up with me? If so, then just say it right away and don’t torture me. I fucking hate it.” His eyes were locked on your necklace with the letter R, while your hand froze in the air in shock. 
“Wh– Matty, what are you talking about?!” He finally looked up, meeting with your eyes, and you understood that he was trying to be casual and careless about it, but in fact he looked hurt.
“Isn’t it why McGonnagal asked you to stay? To say that I’m bad for you or something.”
“This is why you didn’t want to leave me there? I saw the way you looked at me… Oh, baby, no, I’m not going to break up with you.” You gently cupped his cheeks; now the tension had partly left Mattheo’s body and he finally put his hands on your waist. “In fact, McGonnagal told me quite the opposite.” Your fingers gently rubbed a bruise on his jaw while he looked at you in disbelief. 
“What do you mean?” Mattheo slightly frowned. His hands unconsciously tightened around you, causing you to step even closer to him. 
"Well, she said that you are really smart and that you have a lot of opportunities in the future if you’ll make the right decisions. She told me that you need someone like me to be here for you… and that what we have is really pure and magical.” You almost whispered the last part. The silence in the bathroom became almost too heavy, and the way Mattheo was looking made your stomach tighten with a weird feeling. 
“I thought she hated me.” 
You shook your head. “There’s no reason for her to hate you, Matty. You are not your family. You can live your life how you want to, without any burden or darkness, and I’ll be here for you. Always.” Mattheo’s hand reached for your face, slowly touching your skin. He looked almost mesmerized by you—those pretty brown eyes soft with so much love and feelings for you. 
“Merlin, I don’t know what I did to deserve you.” He drew you closer, your foreheads touching in an intimate gesture. “I love you so fucking much. You’re my everything, Y/N. I know that it might be hard dealing with me, but I’m trying. For you. And I’m sorry for today. I just cannot let anyone disrespect or hurt you, my love.” 
“That’s okay. I’m not mad. Just don’t want you to get hurt too. I love you, Matty. No matter what.” You smiled, closing your eyes, and finally properly kissed him. It was slow and delicate and it felt as if that moment was so significant for your relationship. You were always sure of your’s and Mattheo’s love, but right now it has become serious on another lever. And both of you could not be more happy. 
Mattheo kissed you passionately, pulling you in close and sliding his tongue across your bottom lip. You moaned into his mouth, burying your hands into the messy curls and scratching the scalp. “I hate to say it, but you actually look kind of hot when you’re fighting…”
“Fuck, baby. Let’s stay here for the rest of the day and skip the classes. I want you so fucking bad.” He groaned, lowering his mouth to your neck.
“Are you trying to seduce me, Mattheo Riddle?” You pushed him away, slightly pulling his hair to enjoy those glossy dark eyes and swollen lips. 
“What if I say yes?” Mattheo’s hand slipped under your skirt, teasingly stroking your thigh. 
“Then I'll let you do it.” 
6K notes · View notes
ellecdc · 1 month
Note
teehee potions partners turned friends to lovers! James and reader. She has a massive crush on him and finally built up the courage to confess! On the other hand, James is all 😀🧍🏻? because he thought they’ve been dating for the past 3 weeks after their trip to hogsmeade <3
-⭐️
sooooo cute, thanks for the prompt!!
James Potter x fem!reader who can't be friends with him anymore [1.6k words]
CW: miscommunication trope? sort of?, fluff, written for a fem!reader but no gender is defined other than one mention of 'darling girl'
It felt beyond tortuous at this point. It felt inhumane to even have to be within the same vicinity as James Potter.
You’d always found him quite distracting; the kind of attractive that demanded your attention whether you wanted to give it or not. Between that and his penchant for drawing attention to himself, it was difficult to do anything but notice him.
Thankfully for you, you’d always found your attraction to the Gryffindor to be wholly physical and visual in nature; sure, he was nice to look at, but you had no interest in talking to the loud, brash, boisterous, mischievous Gryffindor who was nothing but trouble if his infamous pranks and many detentions were anything to go by.
And then Professor Sprout paired the two of you together for your year end project.
And then you were forced to spend every class sharing a potting bench with him plus the various library meetings you had to set up in order to finish the written portion of the assignment.
And then, possibly worst of all, the two of you had taken a trip to Hogsmeade to pick up some seeds and gardening equipment which turned into an impromptu shopping trip through Tomes & Scrolls, Honeydukes, Zonkos, and ended with a butterbeer in the Three Broomsticks.
And you loved it, which you hated.
You hated it because you’d come to learn over the latter part of the term that James Potter was boisterous, but in a rather charismatic way. 
You learned that James Potter was mischievous, but in a painfully clever way. 
James Potter played an awful lot of pranks on Hogwarts students and staff, but the majority of them (save the ones against a few particular Slytherin students) were lighthearted in nature. 
And though James Potter was, perhaps, loud and brash when surrounded by his friends and quidditch team mates, he was somehow overwhelmingly soft and relaxed around you. 
For you, James always came across as rather…simple in the corridors of the castle and at mealtimes; you only knew him as the loud jokester who bantered with anyone and everyone within earshot. But you learned quite quickly that he was a very high-performing student and barely had to put in any effort to pass with flying colours.
Which, unfortunately, left him a lot of time to talk with you.
You learned that he was fiercely loyal and protective of his own; he loved no one more than he loved his friends who were more like family to him at this point. He had a strong sense of justice, and you learned that many of his more…aggressive pranks on the Slytherin’s turned out to be his own version of vigilante justice for some slur or hateful action they’d been stupid enough to say or do in front of the Marauders.
You also learned that he was just lovely; he always pulled your chair out for you if he got to your table before you, he showed up to the library one evening late for your scheduled study session and before you had any time to scold him for it, he presented a plate of food that he had procured from the Great Hall for you two to share with an apology on his lips for being late, ‘it’s important to keep your blood sugars up; we need that beautiful brain of yours, angel’ he’d told you, and it took you perhaps the rest of the study session to get your cheeks to cool and heart rate to return to normal.
And that was probably the worst part - the nicknames; the endearments that fell so naturally from his lips as if they were simply carved out of the English language just for you, as if there was no other possible way he could refer to you other than as his ‘angel’, ‘sweetness’, or ‘darling girl’. 
You couldn’t take it anymore, you just couldn’t; you found yourself feeling completely insecure about your … friendship? Relationship? … with him that when you so much as even heard him talk to another student, you were filled with a heavy jealousy that left you feeling nothing but shame because you had no right to be jealous over someone you had no claim over.
So, you had decided, today was the day.
Today was the day you were going to come clean, the day you were going to admit your feelings to James so that you could rid yourself of this heavy burden; this crush.
He’ll either turn you down and you can get on with life, or….
Well…
You had not really thought that far ahead.
And it didn’t look like you would have any time to as he walked through the door and flashed you a beaming smile that saw both dimples make an appearance.
Oh gods…there was no way that someone so lovely, so beautiful, so effervescent could ever reciprocate feelings for the likes of you.
Of course not!
There was only one way this was going to go, and it was going to end in your spirit being crushed.
“Hey, angel!” He greeted with a smacking kiss to your cheek. “I’m glad to see you! What did you want to talk about?” He asked as he sat beside you on the bench and angeled his entire body towards you; like you were the only thing worth directing his attention at.
Oh, you were going to miss that.
“I don’t think we can be friends anymore.” You blurted rather suddenly.
James looked as though you’d just slapped him; his head actually rearing back as he blinked at you.
“I- what?” He asked breathlessly. 
“I…I just don’t think we can be friends anymore.” You murmured quieter this time, no longer able to make eye contact with him and turning your gaze towards the woodgrain of the table you were sitting at. 
“And why not, exactly?” He asked; voice level and controlled in a way you’d not heard the likes of before. 
“Because I…I don’t want to be your friend, James.” 
“You don’t want to be my friend?” He deadpanned in return.
“I…I rather wish we were more.” You admitted. “I find that I’ve, uhm, well I…I seem to have feelings for you and…I can’t just be friends with you anymore.”
You decided to stop your rather embarrassing and nonsensical ramble and stole a glance at James in your periphery to see he was leaning on his elbow and had his hand covering his mouth as he stared at you.
His eyes were crinkled in the corners and shining with mirth and you realised then that he was laughing at you.
“Are you-”
“No!”
“You are!”
“No, angel, I’m-”
“You’re laughing at me!” You all but screeched in the library of all places and made to stand, only for James’ hands to shoot out and catch you at your wrists, exposing his beaming smile and the fact that his shoulders were absolutely shaking with laughter.
“Sh, wait, don’t go-”
“James Potter, don’t shush me!” You whisper-shouted as you tried to wrench your wrists from his grasp, only to have him laugh harder and pull you back down into your seat with little effort on his part.
“Hey, listen! Listen to me.” He begged between laughs. “I’m not laughing at you, I’m just laughing because- hey!” He paused as you managed to free one of your hands and whacked him in the very muscular arm for it. “I’m laughing because I was under the impression that we already were dating.”
You stared at him in shock as he let out a few more chuckles; holding your gaze with his warm brown ones as he rubbed circles on your wrists with his thumbs.
“What?” You finally asked dumbly.
“I was very much under the impression that our Hogsmeade trip was our first date, sweetheart.” He explained.
“But, why?”
“I told you I had a lovely time and asked if we could do it again?” 
“I thought you meant, as like…study partners!” You offered defensively. 
“Do study partners often kiss your cheek in greeting?” He asked with a raised eyebrow.
“I just thought you were very affectionate!”
He nodded his head back-and-forth as if saying ‘fair enough’ before moving his gaze back to you and offering you a salacious smirk. 
“Then, for the purpose of being completely candid, I absolutely did not do any of the aforementioned things, nor what I’m about to do, in a platonic manner, okay?”
His eyes flit to your lips and back up as he leaned closer to you. “Okay..”
“Yeah?” He whispered, his nose mere centimetres from your own as he searched your eyes for any hesitation. 
“Yeah.” You agreed with a nod, moving your eyes to his lips just before he closed the distance between you.
His lips were warm and purposeful against yours, feeling as though they’d been longing to do exactly this from the moment the two of you shared words.
He took a long, deep breath in as if he was desperate to get more of you - to memorise how you tasted, how you smelt, and how you felt as he brought his hands up to rest on either side of your jaw - while you felt all of the tension, worry, and air leave your lungs with a whoosh of relief. 
‘Finally’ your body seemed to be saying.
James broke apart from you before pressing his forehead against yours and brushing his thumbs against your cheeks. 
“Finally.” He agreed with your internal dialogue. “Was that clear enough for you, angel?”
“Yeah, Jamie.” You offered with a breathless chuckle. “Finally.” You repeated.
Finally.
1K notes · View notes
sadnymi · 1 month
Text
Mastermind
[Mattheo riddle x reader]
Summary: Lady Whistledown and Gossip Girl [ Hogwarts Version] had taken the school by storm. Every week, spoken letters delivered the latest rumors, and things were getting out of control. Y/N had finally had enough, especially when the latest gossip claimed she was dating Mattheo Riddle. Frustrated and determined to put an end to it, she went to Mattheo, asking for his help in uncovering the person behind the relentless rumors and stopping them once and for all.
Words: 15k
Warnings : fluff, smut smut smut don’t read in public you have been warning , biker boy mattheo [yes a warning] , a little angst, fluff .
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────୨ৎ────────୨ৎ────────୨
**The Daily Whisperer: Hogwarts Edition**
_Issue #47: The Gossip of the Week_
Hogwarts is buzzing with the latest speculation surrounding two of our most enigmatic students. You guessed it—Y/N Y/L/N and Mattheo Riddle.
Rumor has it that sparks are flying between these two, and if they aren't already an item, then Merlin’s beard, they definitely should be! A sighting in the library, some lingering glances in Potions class, and let’s not forget that mysterious detention they both just _happened_ to land in last week. Could this be the beginning of a legendary Hogwarts love story? But that's not all! This week’s flying letters brought us another sizzling scoop: Y/N was seen practicing dueling spells with Mattheo, and let's just say, the sparks were flying—literally. Could this be a sign of something more than just friendly competition? Stay tuned, dear readers. We’re on the case!
In other news, Y/N has been making waves not just in the rumor mill but in the academic arena as well. This ( whatever house you’re in, darling Y/N!) has been impressing professors and students alike with her spellwork and potions prowess. Is there anything she can't do? We'll keep you posted on her latest achievements and, of course, any further developments in her relationship status with a certain handsome Slytherin.
Until next time, keep your wands at the ready and your ears to the ground!
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I could feel the heat of a hundred eyes on me as I stormed through the hallways, clutching the latest edition of "Hogwarts Whispers" in my hand. My anger was palpable, a tangible force pushing people aside as they gawked at me. As I turned a corner, a group of Hufflepuffs quickly scattered, clearly not wanting to be on the receiving end of my wrath. My anger flared hotter. Who had the nerve to spread such nonsense? And why did it have to be always about _me_?
Finally, I spotted him. Mattheo Riddle stood by the entrance to the Great Hall, casually leaning against the wall like he didn’t have a care in the world, his dark hair falling effortlessly into place as he exchanged easy banter with his friends. Typical.
I marched up to him, my footsteps echoing off the stone walls. His friends wisely took a step back as I approached, but he merely glanced over at me with that infuriating smirk of his, clearly amused by my arrival.
“Riddle,” I said, my voice clipped.
“Y/L/N,” he replied, raising an eyebrow in a way that made it impossible to tell if he was mocking me or just genuinely interested.
“We need to talk.”
His smirk widened, his eyes gleaming with mischief. “We need to talk?”
I huffed in frustration. “You didn’t read what that freak wrote today?”
“No,” he said slowly, his eyes scanning my face for any clue. “But does that have anything to do with why people are looking at us like we are about to say our vows?”
Resisted the urge to roll my eyes, instead grabbing his hand and pulling him down the hallway. “Come on.”
He chuckled under his breath, clearly enjoying the situation more than he should. But I didn’t care. I wasn’t about to have this conversation in front of the entire school. The last thing I needed was to give those gossipy little owls more fuel for their fire.
I could feel his gaze on me as we walked, his hand warm in mine, and for a brief, fleeting moment, I wondered if there was any truth to what they’d written.
But I shoved that thought aside as we reached a secluded corner. I had a bone to pick with him, and I wasn’t about to let a few stray butterflies distract me.
“What are we going to do about this?” I demanded as soon as we were out of earshot of anyone else.
He just grinned, clearly unfazed. “What do you mean, Y/N? Sounds like we’re the hottest topic in school.”
My glare deepened. “This isn’t funny, Mattheo.”
“Maybe not.”
“This is absolute bullshit!” I fumed, waving the gossip letter around like it was cursed. “Why would anyone write this? Why is it always about me? Every. Single. Week!”
Mattheo leaned casually against the wall, his arms crossed, watching me with that maddening smile on his face. He didn’t seem the least bit concerned, which only fueled my irritation further.
“And then they say I’m dating you?” I threw the letter on a desk, feeling my pulse racing. “Are they insane? Where do they even get this stuff?”
He chuckled, that deep, velvety sound that always seemed to get under my skin. “I’m trying so hard not to take that personally, princess.”
I shot him a glare. “Shut up, Riddle.”
But he didn’t stop smiling, just kept leaning against the wall, looking at me like he was thoroughly enjoying the show. My frustration bubbled over. “Why are you so calm about this? This is serious! People are staring at us in the hallways! It’s like they’ve all got nothing better to do than imagine some ridiculous romance between us.”
“Well,” he drawled, pushing off the wall and taking a few steps toward me, “can you blame them? You’re not exactly easy to ignore, Y/N.”
I rolled my eyes, exasperated. “This isn’t funny. We need to find out who’s behind this, and you’re going to help me.”
Mattheo pushed himself off the wall, taking a step closer to me. "You want me to help you track down the identity of…" he paused, a playful glint in his eyes, "Madam Matchmaker?"
"Yes," I said, narrowing my eyes. "Would you do that?"
He leaned in, his voice dropping to a low murmur. "I would never say no to my girlfriend."
"Shut up, Riddle." I stared at him, my heart skipping a beat despite the anger still boiling inside me. "I’m not your girlfriend," I insisted, my voice lacking the conviction I’d hoped for.
He raised an eyebrow, his expression smug. "That’s not what the whole school is saying."
I rolled my eyes, but I couldn’t ignore the way his words sent a shiver down my spine. "Shut up, Riddle."
"Don't you see how ridiculous this is?" I asked, exasperated.
He tilted his head, still not breaking eye contact. "Oh, I see it, alright. But I've got to admit, I don't mind being linked to you, Y/N. It gives me an excuse to spend more time with you."
"Shut up, Riddle."
He laughed, leaning closer, his voice dropping to a near-whisper. "You know, if you keep telling me to shut up, I might just have to find another way to occupy my mouth."
"You… you’re —-!"
"And yet, here you are, asking me for help. You must like something about me, Y/N."
I huffed, crossing my arms over my chest. "I like the idea of you doing something useful for once. Now, are you going to help me or not?"
He straightened up, still smiling but with a more serious glint in his eyes. "Of course I’ll help you. But you owe me one."
"Fine," I grumbled, though I couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at the corners of my mouth.
The next day, I stormed into the Great Hall, clutching a rolled-up piece of parchment in my hand. I barely noticed the whispers that trailed behind me as I made a beeline for the Slytherin table, my eyes locking onto Mattheo, who was lounging back in his seat, looking completely unbothered by the chaos swirling around us.
I slammed the parchment down in front of him, making a few Slytherins glance over in curiosity.
“What’s this?” he asked.
“It’s a list,” I said, taking a seat across from him and ignoring the way his friends were watching us with interest. “A list of suspects. I’ve narrowed it down to a few possibilities, and we need to figure out who’s responsible.”
Mattheo’s eyes flicked to the parchment, then back to me, clearly intrigued. “Go on.”
I pointed to the first name on the list. “First, there’s Carla knight. She’s always had it out for me ever since that incident in Potions last year. You know, she’s been looking for a way to get back at me ever since, she’s petty enough to spread rumors, and she’s got the connections to get them published.”
“True,” Mattheo mused, leaning back in his chair. “But Carla’s too obvious, don’t you think? She’s not exactly subtle.”
“Maybe,” I conceded, moving on to the next name. “Then there’s John Gary. He’s always been the quiet type, but that just makes him more dangerous. He’s close to the source, and he’s smart enough to cover his tracks.”
Mattheo nodded, a small smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Interesting."
"What about Lavender Brown? She’s always gossiping, and she’s got this diary she carries around everywhere. What if she’s the one writing this stuff down and sending it off to ‘Hogwarts Whispers’?"
"Lavender’s a possibility," Mattheo admitted, his eyes flicking back up to meet mine. "But she’s more into writing about her own love life than anyone else’s. I doubt she’d be focused enough to keep tabs on us."
I grumbled under my breath and tapped my quill against the parchment, staring at the remaining names. "Then who could it be? I’ve gone through almost everyone who’s likely to be involved in this kind of thing, and none of them make sense!"
Mattheo didn’t respond immediately, and I looked up to find him just staring at me, a small, almost secretive smile on his lips.
"What the hell are you doing? Were you even listening?" I demanded, feeling my frustration rise again.
His eyes flicked over my face, lingering on my lips for a moment before he finally spoke. "Oh, I was listening, princess. It’s just hard to focus when you’re looking so damn determined. It’s… distracting."
My heart did a little flip, but I shoved that feeling down and crossed my arms. "This is serious, Riddle. Someone is spreading lies about us, and you’re just sitting here, smirking like it’s all a joke."
He chuckled softly, his eyes still locked on mine. "I’m not laughing at you. I’m just appreciating how hard you’re trying to solve this little mystery. It’s kind of… sexy."
I felt my face heat up, but I wasn’t about to let him derail me. "Stop with the compliments, Mattheo. This is important."
"Sure."
"Shut up, Riddle. I’m serious."
"So am I," he said smoothly, leaning back in his seat, his gaze still locked on mine. "But if you want to focus on this little mystery instead of the much more interesting topic of us, then go ahead."
I rolled my eyes, trying to ignore the way his voice sent a shiver down my spine. "Fine. If you’re not going to help, then at least don’t make this harder than it already is."
Mattheo’s smirk grew as he leaned closer, his voice dropping to a low murmur. "You know, Y/N, there are easier ways to spend time with me than concocting elaborate schemes to solve a mystery that might not even have a culprit."
I blinked, caught off guard by the sudden shift in his tone. "What are you talking about?"
He shrugged casually, his eyes never leaving mine. "Maybe someone’s just trying to push us together, and it’s working. Ever thought about that?"
"Shut up, Riddle," I snapped, though my voice lacked its usual bite.
He chuckled, his gaze never leaving mine. "Only if you make me."
I reached out to smack his arm. "Stop acting like that. This is serious!"
In a flash, Mattheo’s hand shot out, catching my wrist with a firm but gentle grip. His smile was both mischievous and reassuring as he looked at me. "Alright, but only because you’re so charming when you’re worked up."
I pulled my wrist free, trying to hide the flush creeping up my cheeks. "Just—stop distracting me. I need to figure out who’s behind this before it gets any worse."
Mattheo leaned back, still watching me with that unnerving mixture of amusement and interest. "Indeed, lead the way. I’m all ears."
For the rest of the week, I was on a mission. Every day, I dragged Mattheo around the school, from the library to the common rooms, and even to the less frequented corners of the castle. Despite his usual nonchalance, Mattheo followed along without question, his only response being that knowing smile he always seemed to have when he was around me.
We spent hours poring over potential suspects, analyzing their motives, and investigating their whereabouts. Each time I got frustrated or hit a dead end, Mattheo would patiently listen, never interrupting, and only offering occasional comments that were either strangely insightful or just plain distracting.
As we walked through the dimly lit corridors of the castle, I finally vented my frustrations. "This is ridiculous. I’ve talked to nearly everyone I can think of, and no one seems to know anything. It’s like we’re running in circles."
Mattheo’s hand brushed against mine as he walked beside me, and I could feel the warmth of his touch even through our robes. "Maybe you’re looking too hard. Sometimes, the answer isn’t in what people say but in what they don’t."
I sighed, feeling the weight of the week’s frustration pressing down on me. "I just don’t get it. Why would someone target me like this?"
He glanced at me, his expression softening. "Maybe they’re trying to get a reaction out of you."
His words, though comforting, did little to ease my worries. I shook my head and kept walking, the silence between us stretching as we turned another corner. "I don’t know how you manage to stay so calm about all this. I’m losing my mind trying to figure this out."
"You’re doing great."
"Thanks, Mattheo."
He flashed me a reassuring smile. "Anytime. Besides, it’s been… interesting, spending all this time with you. I’d say it’s been the highlight of my week."
I raised an eyebrow, giving him a wry smile. "Oh, is that so? I’m glad to be your highlight, Riddle."
He grinned, his usual mischievous glint in his eye. "You should be. And if you ever need me to be a distraction! again, just let me know."
" I hope not."
As we turned another corner in the castle, Mattheo suddenly stopped, his expression shifting from his usual playful smirk to something more serious. "Go on a date with me."
I froze, staring at him in disbelief. "What?"
"You heard me," he said, leaning against the wall with that infuriatingly confident look on his face. "Let’s go on a date."
I blinked, trying to process his words. "Why would I—what are you even talking about? We’re supposed to be figuring out who’s spreading these rumors, not giving them more fuel for the fire!"
"Exactly," he replied smoothly, crossing his arms over his chest. "If we go on a date, we can see who’s watching us, who’s interested in what we’re doing. It’ll flush out the culprit. And with the weekend coming up, whoever’s behind this will be desperate for more gossip to spread. We’ll be able to figure it out, Y/N."
I shook my head, utterly incredulous. "Absolutely not. I’m not going on a date with you."
"Why not?" he asked, his smirk returning as he stepped closer, his presence as magnetic as ever. "It’s the perfect plan. We’ll be able to spot who’s paying too much attention to us."
"Because," I stammered, feeling my heart race as he closed the distance between us, "it’s ridiculous! You’re just trying to mess with me. I know you, Mattheo. You don’t actually care about solving this, you just want to—"
"Want to what?" he interrupted, his voice low and teasing. "Think about it, Y/N. We go out, see who’s watching, think of it as an experiment. A way to gather evidences. You like evidence, don’t you?"
"I’m not going on a date with you. I refuse to give these gossips exactly what they want. I’m not some pawn in their game, and I’m certainly not going to parade around with you just to see who’s got their eyes on us."
He just kept smiling, his eyes locked onto mine with that infuriatingly calm, knowing look. "You keep telling yourself that, but deep down, you know it’s the best way to figure this out."
"No," I insisted, my voice rising slightly. "There’s no way I’m doing it. This is absurd, and I’m not falling for it. You’re just trying to—"
"Trying to what?" he echoed, taking another step closer until I could feel the warmth of his breath on my skin.
I glared at him, trying to ignore the way my pulse quickened. "Shut up, Riddle."
He didn’t move, his smirk widening as his gaze held mine. "You tell me to shut up again, and I will kiss the fuck out of you, princess."
I froze, my breath catching in my throat. "What?"
"You heard me," he said, his voice smooth and deliberate, his eyes never leaving mine. "That’s the deal. You say it again, and I won’t hold back."
My face felt like it was on fire, and I could barely form a coherent thought as his words sank in. "You—you’re insane."
"Maybe," he replied, his voice low and full of intent. "But I always get what I want. And right now, what I want is to figure this out—with you."
I swallowed hard, my heart racing as I tried to gather my thoughts. "This is ridiculous."
"Is it?" he asked, tilting his head slightly, his gaze still locked onto mine. "Or is it just that you’re afraid you might actually enjoy it?"
I stared at him, my mind spinning as I tried to come up with a response. But the truth was, I was too flustered to think straight. His confidence, his intensity—it was overwhelming.
"This is stupid," I muttered, trying to muster up some semblance of defiance.
"That’s not a ‘no’."
I glared at him, my heart pounding in my chest. "But this is strictly for the sake of finding out who’s behind the rumors."
Mattheo’s grin widened. "Of course, princess. Strictly business."
I crossed my arms, trying to keep a lid on the flurry of emotions swirling inside me. "You have to behave, Riddle. No funny business, no flirting. Just… business."
"I’ll be on my best behavior."
I raised an eyebrow, trying to gauge if he was being sincere or just playing me. "Somehow, I doubt that."
He chuckled, leaning in slightly saying in a mocking tone. "Your doubt wounds me, Y/N. My favorite thing to do is to be a good boy for you."
I rolled my eyes, but couldn’t suppress the small smile tugging at my lips. "Sure, whatever you say."
"So," he continued, ignoring my skepticism, "tomorrow, then?"
I hesitated, then nodded. "Yeah, tomorrow."
Mattheo’s gaze softened, though his smirk remained firmly in place. "Don’t be nervous. And try not to think about me too much tonight."
I scoffed, giving him a withering look. "In your dreams, Riddle."
He leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a low, husky murmur. "Oh, believe me, darling. You’re in my dreams every night. But we’re not just talking in them."
My face burned as I smacked his arm again, harder this time. "I’m going to just kill you someday and stop the rumors you’re insufferable, you know that?"
He just laughed, clearly enjoying himself far too much. "And yet, you keep coming back for more."
"I don’t have a choice," I shot back, starting to walk toward my dormitory with him following close behind.
"Ah, but you do," he said smoothly, keeping pace with me. "And you’re choosing to be here with me. Makes you wonder, doesn’t it?"
I ignored him, focusing on the corridor ahead, even as I felt his gaze lingering on me.
We walked in silence for a moment before he spoke again, his voice soft and teasing. "You know, tomorrow’s going to be fun. You’ll see."
I rolled my eyes, still facing forward. "If by ‘fun’ you mean torturous, then sure."
Mattheo’s laughter echoed through the corridor, warm and rich. "Torturous for you, maybe. But for me? It’ll be heaven."
I stopped in front of my dormitory, turning to face him. "This is where we part ways."
He stepped closer, his eyes gleaming with that familiar mischief. "For now. But you know, you can always invite me in if you’re feeling lonely."
Pushing him away lightly I said. "Not a chance, Riddle."
He grinned, completely unfazed. "Worth a shot."
I gave him a look, and for once, he seemed to back down. "Alright, alright. Sleep well, Y/N. And try not to think too much about tomorrow. Or about me."
I slammed the door shut in his face, cutting off his words, but I could still hear his low chuckle from the other side. Then I leaned against the door, trying to steady my racing heart.
I don’t know what’s happening to me. I’ve been on plenty of dates before, so why does this one feel different? I’ve had Quidditch players asking me out, and even the prince of Eldoria once tried his luck, but none of that made me feel as nervous as I am right now. And this isn’t even a real date. It’s just a… mission, right?
I stared at the mess of clothes strewn across my room, feeling utterly lost. Is this too much? Will I be overdressed if I wear it? Or is this too casual? And I can’t stop thinking about him—nope, we won’t do that. We won’t think about him or what he’s going to wear. Or not wear. No, absolutely not. We are not thinking about him without clothes. That can’t happen. I can’t stand Mattheo, right?
But why? Why can’t I stand him? I can’t remember anymore. Maybe it’s because he makes me feel so damn nervous? And I hate that. I hate losing control. I love having control over everything, and Merlin knows he wasn’t helping with that. It’s like every cell in my body is screaming, and I mean every single one.
I finally settled on a small black dress, letting my hair fall naturally around my shoulders. I added a touch of makeup and a simple necklace, convincing myself that I was doing this for me. It’s a good chance to get dressed up and look good—to myself, right? I always do. I’m a fashion icon, and I always dress well. Not for any certain someone with beautiful eyes and hair and a body that—nope, stop it, Y/N. We’re not going there.
I took a deep breath and walked out of my dorm, only to find Mattheo standing just outside my door, hand raised as if he was about to knock. He was dressed all in black, and oh, Merlin, that shirt was doing things to me.
His eyes slowly raking up and down my body. He wasn’t even trying to hide that he was looking, and when his gaze finally reached my face, it lingered on my lips before meeting my eyes.
"Matching," he said, a smirk playing on his lips.
I rolled my eyes, trying to ignore the flutter in my stomach. "You always wear black or gray, It’s hardly a coincidence Mattheo."
His smirk widened as he took a step closer. "Oh, baby, so you were trying to match with me?"
"What? Of course not!" I shot back, but my voice sounded less convincing than I would’ve liked. He laughed, clearly enjoying my discomfort.
I glared at him, crossing my arms. "If you don’t stop, I’m going back inside and forgetting about this so-called date,"
He raised his hands in mock surrender, still grinning. "Okay, okay, I’m sorry. You look stunning, Y/N. Absolutely breathtaking. I’m not sure if I’ll be able to focus on anything but you tonight."
I rolled my eyes again, though I could feel my cheeks heating up. "You’re so insufferable."
"And you’re so beautiful," he replied smoothly, taking my hand in his. "Now come on. Let’s get out of here."
I allowed him to lead me out of the castle, my heart pounding harder with every step. "Where are we going?"
"You’ll see," he said, a hint of mischief in his voice. "I promise it’s something you’ll like."
I narrowed my eyes at him. "If you’re up to something, Riddle, I swear—"
"Oh, I’m definitely up to something," he replied, his voice dropping to a low murmur as he glanced over at me, his eyes darkening slightly. "But I think you’ll enjoy it. Maybe even more than you expect."
My breath caught in my throat, and I tried to keep my voice steady. "You’re not fooling anyone, you know."
"Who said I was trying to fool you?" he shot back, his grip on my hand tightening slightly.
I tried to ignore the way his words made my pulse quicken. "You’re being annoyingly cryptic, you know that?"
"It’s part of my charm," he replied , his thumb brushing lightly over the back of my hand. "And besides, it’s worth the suspense, don’t you think?"
I looked at him, trying to maintain some semblance of composure. "I think you’re enjoying this far too much."
He chuckled, his eyes darkening with a mischievous glint. "Oh, I am. But don’t pretend you aren’t, too."
As Mattheo led me down the dimly lit corridor, I couldn't help but notice the way his thumb was now tracing small circles on the back of my hand. The warmth of his touch sent shivers up my spine, and I fought to keep my thoughts from spiraling out of control.
My breath hitched slightly, but I forced myself to stay calm. "You’re really pushing it, Riddle."
"And you love it," he shot back, his voice dropping to a whisper as he leaned in closer, his breath warm against my ear.
I pushed him away pretending to be annoyed it’s actually better to show him that I was so turned on. "Let’s just get this over with."
“Where are we going?” I asked, trying to inject some firmness into my voice, though it came out softer than I intended.
Mattheo glanced at me, a slow, almost predatory smile spreading across his lips. “Patience, darling."
I opened my mouth to retort, but the words got caught in my throat. The cool night air hit me like a wave, but it did little to quell the heat burning inside me.
“You look like you’re trying really hard not to think about what I’m going to do to you tonight,” he whispered, his voice low and teasing.
I froze, my heart skipping a beat. “What… what are you talking about?”
He chuckled softly, pulling me closer until our bodies were nearly touching. “Oh, come on, Y/N. Don’t pretend you haven’t thought about it. About what it would feel like.”
My breath hitched, and I couldn’t stop the rush of heat that flooded my body at his words. This wasn’t happening. I wasn’t letting him get to me like this. But when he stepped closer, his hand resting lightly on my hip, I could barely think straight.
“I… I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I stammered, though it was clear even to me that I was lying.
“Liar,” he whispered, his lips brushing against my ear, sending a shiver down my spine. “You’ve been thinking about it. And the best part? So have I.”
I blinked up at him, trying to form a coherent response when he suddenly smirked and pointed behind me. “Relax, darling. I was talking about the ride I’m going to give you tonight.”
I followed his gaze and saw a sleek black motorcycle parked nearby. “Wait… what?” I breathed out, my heart still racing.
His smirk deepened, and he raised an eyebrow, amusement dancing in his eyes. “What were _you_ thinking about?”
“Nothing!” I shot back, far too quickly.
“Uh-huh,” he said, clearly not buying it. He started walking toward the bike, and I followed, my steps hesitant.
“What the hell is that?” I asked, narrowing my eyes at the motorcycle as if it had personally offended me.
He looked at me with exaggerated innocence. “This? It’s a bike. You know, that thing with two wheels that goes vroom?”
I glared at him, my patience wearing thin. “I know exactly what it is. I’m asking why you’re near it.”
He leaned against the bike, looking far too smug for his own good."Because we’re taking it for a ride, obviously."
“Mattheo, you didn’t… Where did you even get this from?” I asked, crossing my arms.
He grinned mischievously. “Stole it.”
My eyes widened, and I took a step back, ready to bolt. But then he laughed, shaking his head. “Kidding, darling. Just get on.”
I stared at him for a moment, debating whether I should turn around and walk back inside. But something about the way he was looking at me—challenging, teasing—made me pause. I cursed under my breath and reluctantly walked over to the bike.
As I approached, I couldn’t help but curse myself for wearing a dress. Of all nights, why did I choose tonight to be impractical? I awkwardly tried to swing my leg over the bike, careful not to flash him.
“Need some help there?”
“I’ve got it,” I snapped, finally managing to get on the bike without embarrassing myself too much.
He turned to face me, and suddenly, he was so close I could feel his breath on my face. His hands reached up, and he gently placed a helmet on my head, securing the strap under my chin. The simple act was far more intimate than it had any right to be, and I found myself holding my breath.
“You might want to hold on to me,” he murmured, his voice low and filled with suggestion.
I hesitated for a second, then wrapped my arms around his waist, feeling the solid warmth of him beneath my hands. “If you crash this thing, I’m killing you,” I muttered against his back.
He chuckled, the sound vibrating through me. “Don’t worry, darling. I’ve got you.”
he started the bike, the engine roaring to life beneath us. I tightened my grip on him as we took off, the wind whipping through my hair. The cool night air rushed past us, but all I could focus on was the heat radiating from Mattheo’s body, the way his muscles tensed and flexed as he maneuvered the bike through the darkened streets.
“Enjoying yourself back there?” he called over the sound of the wind.
I rolled my eyes, even though he couldn’t see it. “Just keep your eyes on the road, Riddle.”
He laughed again, but there was a dark edge to it that sent a shiver down my spine. “Oh, I am. But I can’t help but think about how good you feel pressed up against me.”
My cheeks burned, and I was grateful he couldn’t see my face. “Shut up, Mattheo.”
" careful baby remember our deal?"
“Mattheo—”
“ Yes,princess?"
" don’t open your mouth please."
He laughed " Why? You don’t like it when I talk about how your hands feel on me? Or how I can feel every little movement you make?”
“No—”
“Or maybe it’s the way you’re clinging to me right now,” he continued, his voice dropping lower, more seductive. “Like you can’t get close enough. Like you don’t want this ride to end.”
I bit my lip, trying to ignore the way his words were making my heart race even faster. He was doing this on purpose, and damn him, it was working.
“Don’t get too full of yourself,” I shot back, but my voice lacked the bite I intended.
He slowed the bike down slightly, and I felt him lean back just enough to speak directly into my ear. “Too late for that, darling. You’re driving me crazy.”
My breath caught, and I tightened my grip on him, unsure if it was to steady myself or if it was because part of me wanted him to pull over.
“Mattheo…” I warned, but my voice was weak, trembling.
He chuckled, the sound dark and promising. “Relax."
Every time he took a sharp turn or sped up, my grip on him tightened, and he would laugh softly, his voice full of that infuriating confidence. “You sure you’re not nervous?”
“I’m sure,” I replied, though my heart was racing for more reasons than just the speed of the bike.
“Good.”
As Mattheo slowed the bike to a stop, I looked around and felt a jolt of unease settle in my stomach. The area was dimly lit, with groups of people loitering around, looking like trouble. The girls wore little more than scraps of fabric, their heavy makeup making their eyes look like dark smudges in the faint light. The guys weren’t any better—tough, dangerous, and clearly up to no good.
I turned to Mattheo, my voice tinged with irritation and confusion. “What the hell, Mattheo?”
He smirked, swinging his leg off the bike. “What? I thought you’d appreciate something different from the fancy dates you’re used to. Oh, remind me again, where did Prince Edward take you to?”
“He didn’t,” I snapped back, dismounting the bike as gracefully as possible while trying to keep my dress in place. “Because I turned the date down.”
Mattheo’s grin widened, a mocking edge to it. “How bad for him.”
I rolled my eyes, glancing around nervously. “There’s no one from school here, right? I mean, how is the gossip mill going to work if they don’t notice us?”
He leaned against the bike, his eyes glinting with mischief. “Oh, they won’t.”
“Excuse me?” I shot back, incredulous.
He laughed, shaking his head. “They’ll be more likely to be notice here than some fancy place, don’t you think?”
I frowned but nodded reluctantly. “Probably, yeah. Any normal person would feel so out of place here.”
I was about to step off the bike when I felt his hands suddenly on my hips, his grip firm. “No, not like that, princess.”
“What?” I managed to say, my voice coming out in a breathless whisper as he effortlessly swung off the bike first. Then, without warning, he placed his hands on my waist again and lifted me off the bike as if I weighed nothing.
“I wouldn’t want anyone to get a look at the show I had a minutes ago,” he murmured, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down my spine.
My face flushed crimson, and I struggled to maintain my composure as his hands stayed on my waist, guiding me toward the entrance. His touch was possessive, almost claiming, and I couldn’t help the thrill that shot through me despite the chaotic surroundings.
“So, do I need to keep my wand close?” I asked, half-joking, half-serious as we neared the group.
Mattheo chuckled, his breath warm against my ear. “You really think I’d let anything happen to you?”
As we walked through the crowd, people began to notice Mattheo, their eyes lighting up with recognition. A couple of guys came over, greeting him with casual nods and low murmurs.
“Riddle! Didn’t expect to see you here tonight,” one of them said, a tall guy with a crooked grin.
Another guy came up, clapping Mattheo on the back. “Good to see you, mate. Thought you’d ditched us for good.”
“Nah,” Mattheo replied casually. “Just been busy.”
“Yeah, thought you were too good for us these days,” another chimed in, smirking.
Mattheo just shrugged, his grip on my waist tightening slightly. “Can’t forget where I came from.”
Before I could process what that meant, a girl suddenly appeared, practically throwing herself at Mattheo. She had wild, dark hair and wore a top that could barely be called clothing. “Matty! I didn’t know you were coming tonight,” she purred, her hands already trailing over his chest. Then, she noticed me, her eyes narrowing as she looked me up and down, clearly sizing me up.
I met her gaze, lifting my chin defiantly as I looked her over. She was all beautiful and confidence, but something about her screamed desperate. I couldn’t help the surge of jealousy that flared in my chest. “Take a picture, it’ll last longer,” I snapped, crossing my arms.
The girl’s eyes widened in surprise, but she quickly recovered, her lips curling into a sneer. “Who’s this?” she asked Mattheo, her tone dripping with disdain.
Mattheo’s hand slid around my waist, pulling me closer to him. “She’s My girl,” he said simply, his voice cool and dismissive.
The girl’s eyes narrowed further as she gave me another once-over. I met her gaze head-on, refusing to back down. “Got a problem with that?” I asked, my tone sweet but laced with a clear challenge.
The girl hesitated for a moment, then forced a laugh, trying to play it off. “No, of course not,” she said, but her eyes were still cold. She turned back to Mattheo, trying to regain his attention. “I was just surprised, that’s all.”
“Well, now you know,” I said firmly, stepping closer to Mattheo as if staking my claim.
She shot me one last glare before reluctantly backing off, clearly realizing she wasn’t going to win this one. I watched her go, feeling oddly victorious, even as my heart pounded in my chest.
Mattheo’s low chuckle drew my attention back to him, and I looked up to find him watching me with an amused glint in his eyes. “Jealous, are we?”
“Absolutely not,” I retorted, though my face was still flushed.
“Right,” he drawled, clearly not believing me.
Mattheo guided me through the throngs of people, his hand never leaving my waist as we made our way toward a secluded area. The crowd seemed to part for him, everyone stepping aside as if they knew better than to get in his way. He led me to a corner of the warehouse where a small, dimly lit bar was nestled. The area was quieter, more exclusive, with plush leather couches and a polished wooden bar that gave it an air of importance.
“This is where the VIPs hang out?” I asked, raising an eyebrow as we stepped into the area. It was a stark contrast to the chaos outside—a private sanctuary within the madness.
Mattheo smirked, pulling out a barstool for me before taking a seat himself. “You could say that. Only those who matter get to hang out here.”
I settled onto the stool, trying to maintain some semblance of composure despite the flutter of nerves in my stomach. “And I’m guessing you’re one of those people?”
He chuckled, leaning in closer, his gaze locking onto mine. “What do you think, Princess?”
“I think you like making a scene wherever you go,” I shot back, trying to keep my tone light despite the way my heart was racing.
“Maybe,” he admitted, his eyes gleaming with mischief.
The bartender, a grizzled-looking man with a permanent scowl, approached us, his gaze flickering over me before settling on Mattheo.
“Riddle,” the bartender said in greeting, his voice gruff. “Been a while.”
“Hey, Greg,” Mattheo replied, his voice casual. “How’s business?”
Greg grunted, grabbing a glass and starting to mix a drink. “Same old, same old. You finally got yourself a date, eh?”
Mattheo chuckled, his hand still resting on my thigh. “Something like that.”
Greg's eyes flickered over to me again, his expression a mix of curiosity and skepticism. He took in my dress and my slightly flustered demeanor, a wry grin tugging at his mouth. “She's a fancy one, ain't she?” he commented, continuing to mix the drinks.
“Yeah, that’s for sure,” Mattheo agreed, his hand caressing my thigh. “But she’s all mine.”
I suppressed a shiver at the touch, trying to act as nonchalant as possible as I shot Mattheo a glare. He just smirked in response.
"Noted." Greg set our drinks down in front of us, a shot of dark liquor for Mattheo and something orange and frothy for me. “On the house,” he said gruffly, before moving to serve other customers.
"Can you tell me why those people know you? And how the hell are you so well-known like a famous celebrity here?"
Mattheo takes a sip of his drink, a smirk playing on his lips as he contemplates my question. “I wouldn’t say famous, darling. But I’ve spent a lot of time here... Let’s just say I know my way around.”
I raise an eyebrow skeptically. “That’s not a real answer.”
He grins, clearly enjoying my reaction. “Oh, it's a perfectly real answer. You just don't like it.”
"And what about this girl?" I ask, unable to keep the edge out of my voice.
“That’s Layla. She’s part of this crowd… a regular here, I guess you could say.”
“And you… know her well?”
He shrugs, his hand going back to rest on my thigh. “We’ve crossed paths a few times, yeah.”
There’s something in his tone that makes me pause, a flicker of jealousy stirring in my chest.
He takes another sip of his drink, avoiding my gaze for a moment. “You’re full of questions today, aren’t you?”
I scowl at his non-answer. “You’re the one who keeps avoiding them.”
He lets out a soft laugh, his hand tracing lazy circles on my thigh. “I just like seeing you get all worked up, princess.”
“So what’s your definition of crossing paths?” I ask, pressing him further.
He pauses, seeming to consider his words carefully. “Layla and I have... hooked up a few times. Nothing serious, just casual stuff.”
My heart sinks, a mix of jealousy and disappointment flickering inside me. I try to mask it, though, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of knowing how much it bothered me.
“And what about now? Is she still in the picture?”
His hand tightens slightly on my thigh, and I feel him tense for a moment. Then he turns his head slightly, his lips almost brushing mine as he answers, “No, she’s not.”
“Good,” I say, trying to keep my tone light, “because this whole act would be a lot less convincing if you were involved with more than one girl.”
Mattheo chuckles, the sound low and rich, as his fingers tighten their grip on my thigh, sending a jolt of electricity up my spine. “And here I thought you were just in this for the show,” he murmurs, his voice laced with amusement and something darker, more seductive.
“I am,” I say, my voice steady despite the rapid thudding of my heart. “But even in an act, there are rules.”
“Rules, huh?” He leans in closer, his lips brushing the shell of my ear as he speaks, his breath warm against my skin. “And what are those rules, princess?”
I bite my lip, fighting the urge to close the distance between us. I need to stay in control, to remind myself that this is just an act. “Like keeping your hands to yourself,” I whisper, but the words come out more breathless than I intended.
He chuckles again, a dark, knowing sound. “But where’s the fun in that?”
His hand slides further up my thigh, and I can feel the heat radiating from his body. My pulse quickens, and I struggle to maintain my composure.
“We’re supposed to be pretending,” I manage to say, my voice betraying the strain of keeping up the facade.
“Are we?” His lips graze the corner of my mouth, his words a challenge, daring me to keep up the pretense.
I turn my head slightly, our noses nearly touching, my breath mingling with his. “Yes,” I whisper, but it’s clear neither of us believes it anymore.
“So, just an act?” he repeats, his voice a low rumble that sends shivers down my spine.
I nod, barely managing to keep my composure. “Just an act,” I reply, though the words feel like a lie.
He tilts his head, his lips dangerously close to mine. “But we might as well convince them, right?” His tone is teasing, but there’s a fire in his eyes that says he’s not playing anymore.
I should pull away, tell him no, remind him that this is all part of the charade. But I can’t. My resolve crumbles as I look into his eyes, the intensity there pulling me in, refusing to let go.
“Right,” I whisper, my voice betraying me.
Before I can take another breath, his mouth was on mine, claiming me with a possessiveness that made my breath hitch. His lips moved against mine, slow and deliberate, like he was savoring every second of it. Then, his teeth tugged on my lower lip, and I gasped, giving him the opening he needed.
His tongue slipped inside, tasting and teasing, coaxing mine into a heated dance that left me dizzy. The kiss was all-consuming, each stroke of his tongue demanding a response that I couldn’t help but give. It wasn’t just a kiss; it was a declaration, a promise of everything he could make me feel.
Mattheo’s hand slid up my back, pulling me closer until I was practically melting into him. He sucked on my lower lip, pulling it between his teeth before releasing it with a soft, wet pop. The sound sent a shiver down my spine, and I found myself pressing closer, needing more of him, of this.
“Good girl,” he murmured against my lips, the praise like gasoline to the fire already burning inside me. The words sent a rush of warmth straight to my core, and I couldn’t stop the soft whimper that escaped my throat.
His hands were everywhere—on my hips, my waist, tracing the curve of my spine—as he guided me to straddle his lap. The shift in position made me acutely aware of the hardness pressing against me, a reminder of just how much he wanted this, wanted me.
“Such a good girl for me,” he whispered, his lips trailing down my neck, sucking and biting just enough to leave a mark. His words were a drug, intoxicating and impossible to resist. I could feel the heat pooling low in my belly, a need so intense it was almost painful.
“Mattheo,” I breathed, my hands threading through his hair, pulling him closer, needing him to take more, to give more.
He groaned, the sound vibrating against my skin as his hands gripped my hips, guiding me to grind against him. The friction was maddening, each roll of my hips sending waves of pleasure through me that made it hard to think, hard to breathe.
“You like that?” he asked, his voice rough, laced with a hunger that made my heart race.
“Yes,” I gasped, my nails digging into his shoulders as I rocked against him, desperate for more. His hands moved to my ass, squeezing as he guided my movements, his lips capturing mine again in a kiss that was anything but gentle. It was raw, primal, a clash of tongues and teeth that left me trembling in his arms.
“Good girl,” he repeated, his voice thick with desire as his hands slid under my dress, tracing the edges of my panties. “Such a good girl for me.” The praise was almost too much, his mouth was on mine, sending a fresh wave of heat through my body as I arched into him, needing him to do something, anything to relieve the ache between my thighs.
Reality crashed down on me like a cold wave, dousing the fire that had been raging between us. I was kissing Mattheo Riddle—not just kissing him, but grinding against him in a dark, dingy bar, losing control in a way that was so unlike me.
Breathless, I shook my head, my hands still resting on his chest, but I pushed him away just enough to create space between us. “We shouldn’t,” I whispered, my voice trembling with the effort to regain control.
“Why not?” he murmured.
His hands remained on my hips, firm but not forceful, as if he knew I could—and might—pull away at any moment.
“It’s wrong,” I said, though even as the words left my mouth, they felt hollow. Wrong didn’t even begin to cover the tangled mess of emotions inside me.
“It feels so right to me,” he countered, his voice low.
“That’s the problem,” I whispered, my resolve wavering as I felt the heat of his body so close to mine, the pull of his gaze making it almost impossible to think clearly. I was losing myself, losing the control I prided myself on, every time I was near him.
“Mattheo, I want to go,” I said, my voice firmer this time, though the longing in me betrayed how much I wanted to stay, to give in.
He nodded, understanding flickering in his eyes as he stood up, his hand falling away from my thigh. He kept close to me as we made our way out of the bar, his presence a constant, protective shield, yet he didn’t touch me. And damn, I hated that—hated how much I wanted him to touch me, to feel his hands on me again, even as I knew I shouldn’t.
We reached his bike, and he stood between me and the prying eyes of anyone passing by, shielding me as I climbed on. He still didn’t touch me, and it was driving me insane, the absence of his touch making me crave it even more. I hated myself for it, for wanting him so badly that it was all I could think about.
He climbed on the bike in front of me, starting the engine with a low rumble. My hands automatically went to his waist, and as soon as I made contact, it was like an electric current shot through me. My mind was a mess, a chaotic whirl of thoughts and emotions, and my body—oh, my body—was screaming for more, for him.
I clenched my hands tighter around him, trying to focus, trying to breathe, but the tension inside me was unbearable. The battle raging within me, between what I wanted and what I knew was right, was tearing me apart.
“Stop, Mattheo,” I blurted out, my voice cutting through the night.
He didn’t respond at first, but I felt his body tense under my hands. “What?” he asked, his voice tight, uncertain.
“I said stop,” I repeated, louder this time, and he immediately pulled the bike over to the side of the road, the engine cutting off with a final, ominous growl.
We were on a dark, deserted forest road, the trees casting long, eerie shadows under the moonlight. I got off the bike quickly, putting distance between us, trying to get a grip on the whirlwind of emotions inside me. I walked a few steps away, the cool night air doing nothing to calm the fire burning inside me.
I turned around, my breath catching in my throat as I saw him, standing there, taking off his helmet. His eyes were on me, intense, questioning, filled with something that made my heart race all over again.
Before I knew what I was doing, I was running back to him, my resolve crumbling to dust. I crashed into him, my hands fisting in his shirt as I pulled him down to me, my lips finding his with a desperation I couldn’t control.
His response was immediate, his hands flying to my waist, gripping me tightly as he kissed me back with a fierce, raw passion that left me breathless. His lips moved against mine with a hunger that matched my own, devouring, claiming me in a way that made my knees weak.
He lifted me effortlessly, placing me on the bike with my back against the handlebars, my legs on either side of him as he stepped between them, his body pressing into mine. The cold metal of the bike contrasted sharply with the heat of his body, the hard, unyielding surface beneath me a stark reminder of how exposed, how vulnerable I was.
But I didn’t care. I was beyond caring. I wrapped my legs around his waist, pulling him closer, needing to feel every inch of him against me, needing him to take away the ache that was consuming me from the inside out.
His hands roamed over me, possessive, claiming, as he deepened the kiss, his tongue sliding against mine in a way that made me moan into his mouth. He was everywhere—his touch, his taste, his scent—overwhelming my senses until there was nothing left but him.
“Mattheo,” I breathed against his lips, my hands sliding up to cup his face, holding him to me as if letting go would mean losing him forever.
He growled low in his throat, the sound vibrating against my lips as he pulled back slightly, his eyes burning into mine, dark and wild. “You don’t know what you do to me,” he murmured, his voice rough with barely restrained desire.
“Then show me,” I whispered, my voice trembling, both a challenge and a plea.
And he did. His hands moved down to my hips, gripping me firmly as he pulled me closer, his lips descending on mine once more, claiming me, possessing me. The kiss was hard, demanding, every stroke of his tongue, every nip of his teeth, sending shockwaves through me that left me breathless, trembling in his arms.
his hand tracing a teasing line down my side. His breath was hot against my ear as he whispered, “If I were to slip my hand between those pretty thighs right now, would I find you soaking wet, princess?”
A shiver ran through me, his words setting my skin on fire.
“You’d have to do it to find out,” I whispered back, my voice shaky.
His hand slid down to my thigh, gripping it firmly as he pushed the fabric of my dress up, his fingers brushing against the sensitive skin there. The touch was electrifying, sending jolts of pleasure straight to my core, making me gasp.
“Such a good girl,” he murmured, his voice low and rough, dripping with praise that sent another rush of heat through me. His hand moved higher, inching closer to where I needed him most, but he took his time, teasing me, making me squirm against him.
When his fingers finally reached the edge of my panties, he paused, his eyes locking onto mine, a smirk playing on his lips. “You’re already so wet for me,” he said, his voice dripping with satisfaction as he slid one finger along the slick fabric, barely touching me but enough to make my breath hitch.
I bit my lip, fighting back a moan as he continued to tease me, his finger tracing lazy circles over my clit through the thin fabric. The sensation was maddening, the light touch just enough to drive me crazy but not nearly enough to satisfy the aching need inside me.
“Let’s see how wet you really are,” he whispered, slipping his hand inside my panties, his fingers brushing against my slick folds. The contact was enough to make me moan, the sound escaping my lips before I could stop it.
His finger slid along my slit, collecting my wetness before he pressed it against my clit, rubbing slow, deliberate circles that had me arching into his touch, desperate for more. “You’re drenched,” he murmured, his voice laced with approval, his breath hot against my neck as he continued to work me over.
“Mattheo,” I gasped, my hands gripping his shoulders as he curled his finger, finding that perfect spot that made me see stars. He added another finger, the stretch delicious as he pumped them in and out, his thumb brushing against my clit with every movement.
“Look at you princess.” he whispered, his voice a low growl as he continued to finger me, his pace steady and relentless. “You like knowing we’re still in public, don’t you, Y/N? That’s so unlike you….”
His words made my head spin, the combination of his dirty talk and the way his fingers worked me over was too much, too overwhelming. “Nothing I do when I’m with you is like me,” I admitted, my voice breathless as I bucked against his hand, craving more of the pleasure only he could give me. “But nothing has ever felt this good.”
He groaned at my confession, his fingers curling inside me, hitting that perfect spot that had me seeing stars. “Good girl,” he praised again, his voice filled with pride and lust as he kissed me hard, his lips claiming mine with a hunger that left me breathless.
I kissed him back with equal fervor, losing myself in the feel of him, the way his fingers worked me over, driving me closer and closer to the edge. His thumb pressed harder against my clit, his fingers curling inside me in just the right way, sending shockwaves of pleasure through me that made my entire body tremble.
“You’re so fucking perfect,” he growled against my lips, his fingers moving faster, harder, the wet sounds of his fingers working me over filling the dark, empty forest around us. “You’re going to come for me, aren’t you, princess? Come all over my fingers like the good girl you are.”
His words were my undoing, the praise and the dirty talk too much for me to handle. I cried out, my nails digging into his shoulders as I shattered around him, my orgasm ripping through me with a force that left me breathless, clinging to him for support as wave after wave of pleasure washed over me.
Mattheo didn’t stop, his fingers working me through my orgasm, prolonging the pleasure until I was nothing but a trembling, panting mess in his arms. He finally slowed his movements, gently pulling his fingers out of me and bringing them to his lips, his eyes locked onto mine as he licked them clean.
“Fuck, you taste amazing,” he murmured, his voice filled with awe and satisfaction as he pulled me in for another searing kiss, his tongue slipping into my mouth, letting me taste myself on him.
I kissed him back, my heart racing, my body still trembling from the intensity of what he’d just done to me. I knew we were still out in the open, knew that anyone could have seen us, but I didn’t care. All I cared about was him, the way he made me feel, the way he could break down every wall I’d ever built around myself with just a touch, a word, a kiss.
breath was hot against my ear as he whispered, “Would you let me tease you, princess? Let me take my time driving you wild until you’re begging for me?”
His voice was dark, dripping with lust and promise, the words alone sending a shiver down my spine. I could only nod, still panting, my body trembling from the aftershocks of my release. The anticipation of what he was about to do had my heart racing, my breath catching in my throat.
He smirked at my response, his eyes gleaming with wicked intent. “That’s my girl,” he murmured, his hands sliding down to spread my legs wider. I gasped as the cool air brushed against my heated core, my entire body thrumming with a desperate need for more.
Mattheo took his time, starting with a slow, deliberate kiss on the inside of my thigh, just above my knee. His lips were soft, his tongue darting out to taste my skin as he worked his way up, inch by agonizing inch. Each kiss, each lick, sent a fresh wave of arousal through me, making my thighs tremble in anticipation.
He alternated between gentle kisses and slow, teasing licks, his tongue tracing patterns up my inner thigh. The closer he got to where I wanted him most, the more my hips began to shift, desperate for him to end the torment. But he didn’t rush, savoring every moment, every reaction he pulled from me.
When he finally reached the apex of my thighs, he paused, his breath warm against my soaked folds. The anticipation was unbearable, every nerve in my body screaming for him to touch me, to give me the release I was so desperately craving.
“Look at me,” he murmured, his voice laced with dark amusement as he kissed the sensitive skin right beside where I ached for him most.
And then, without warning, his tongue was on me, the first long, slow lick sending a bolt of pleasure straight through me. I cried out, my hips bucking involuntarily as his tongue slid over my folds, his hands gripping my thighs to hold me in place.
He took his time, alternating between slow, teasing licks and firm, deliberate strokes of his tongue over my clit. Every touch was electric, every swirl of his tongue pushing me closer and closer to the edge. I was already so sensitive, still reeling from my first orgasm, and the sensation was almost too much to bear.
“Mattheo, please,” I gasped, my hands threading through his hair, pulling him closer, desperate for more.
He chuckled against me, the vibrations sending another wave of pleasure through me. “Patience, princess,” he murmured, his voice a dark, sinful promise. “I’m just getting started.”
He wrapped his lips around my clit, sucking gently before flicking his tongue over the sensitive nub. The combination of his mouth and the steady rhythm of his tongue was driving me wild, the pleasure building so quickly that it was almost overwhelming.
He kept at it, his tongue working in tandem with his lips, pushing me closer and closer to the edge. My thighs were trembling, my breath coming in short, desperate gasps as the pleasure coiled tight in my belly, ready to snap.
And then he pushed me over the edge, his tongue curling around my clit in a way that made my vision go white. I cried out, my body convulsing as the orgasm tore through me, the pleasure so intense that I couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe, could only feel.
He didn’t stop, didn’t give me a moment to recover as he continued to work me through my release, his tongue lapping up every bit of my arousal. The overstimulation was mind-blowing, each flick of his tongue sending another shockwave through my already oversensitive body.
“Mattheo,” I gasped, my voice raw from the intensity of it all. “I can’t—”
“Oh, but you can,” he growled, his voice dark and commanding as he continued his assault on my clit, his fingers sliding back inside me to curl against that spot that made me see stars. “You’re going to cum again, princess. I want to feel you fall apart for me one more time.”
I could barely form a coherent thought, my mind completely consumed by the pleasure he was giving me. I could only nod, my body already climbing toward that peak again, the intensity of it making my head spin.
He finally pulled away, his hands gently holding my thighs as I came down from the high, my body still trembling with the aftershocks. I was completely spent, my mind foggy with pleasure, but Mattheo just grinned up at me, his lips glistening with my arousal.
“Fuck, you’re incredible,” he murmured, his voice thick with satisfaction as he kissed my inner thigh, his fingers gently tracing patterns on my skin. “I could do this all night.”
Tears of pleasure welled in my eyes as I reached for Mattheo, pulling him up to me. I could feel my makeup smeared, my face wet with tears that I knew had streaked down my cheeks, but I didn’t care. All I cared about was him, about the way his lips met mine in a kiss that was as fierce as it was tender.
He kissed me with a hunger that matched my own, his hands cradling my face as if I were something precious, even as I reached down, my fingers fumbling with the buckle of his belt. I could feel how hard he was, could feel the heat radiating from him, and it only made me more desperate, more eager to feel all of him.
But then, to my surprise, he pulled back slightly, his hand catching mine. “No,” he murmured, his voice firm, but there was something in his tone that made me pause, that made me look up into his eyes, confused.
“What? Why?” I asked, my breath hitching, my heart pounding in my chest. The need in me was so overwhelming that I couldn’t understand why he would stop now, not when we were both so clearly on the edge.
He laughed softly, but it wasn’t mocking. It was low and full of a raw affection that sent a shiver down my spine. He leaned in and kissed me again, slow and deep, as if he were trying to pour all of his feelings into that one moment. When he pulled back, he looked into my eyes, his thumb brushing gently over my tear-streaked cheek.
“Believe me, there’s nothing I want more in this world than to bend you over this bike and take you right now, right here,” he whispered, and the words alone were enough to make my legs go weak.
“Then do it,” I pleaded, my voice trembling with both need and frustration. I didn’t care about anything else in that moment; I just wanted him.
But he shook his head, his gaze never leaving mine, his thumb still tracing the line of my cheek.
“No,” he repeated, and before I could protest, before I could beg, he continued, his voice soft but filled with a determination that left me breathless. “When I get to have you, Y/N, I want it to be when I can take my time, when I can make you feel everything I’ve been dying to give you. I don’t want to rush this, to take you in some dark forest where anyone could see. You deserve more than that, more than just a quick fuck.”
His words hit me like a tidal wave, overwhelming in their sincerity, in the sheer weight of what he was saying. I could see it in his eyes, the way he looked at me, like I was the only thing that mattered in the entire world. He wanted more than just my body; he wanted all of me, and he wanted it to be right.
I was speechless, my heart pounding so hard it hurt, and all I could do was stare at him, trying to process everything he had just said. “Mattheo…” I whispered, my voice barely audible, but he silenced me with another kiss, this one gentle, full of a tenderness that brought fresh tears to my eyes.
"Not here, not like this. I want to take my time with you, princess. I want to feel every inch of you, taste every part of you, and make you mine in every possible way.”
I could only nod, tears slipping down my cheeks as I kissed him back, pouring all of my emotions into that kiss. I wanted him so badly it hurt, but I knew he was right. This—whatever it was between us—was more than just a physical need. It was something deeper, something that deserved to be treated with the care and attention he was promising.
We were supposed to be heading to class, but with Mattheo Riddle standing this close, logic and responsibility seemed to melt away. His lips were on mine, hot and insistent, and I could barely think straight. His hand was firmly on my waist, pulling me closer as if he couldn't get enough, and I had to admit, I didn’t mind in the slightest.
In the back of my mind, I knew we were in a hallway, but everything else was a blur. All I could focus on was the way Mattheo’s lips moved against mine, the way his other hand slid up to cup my cheek, deepening the kiss.
Suddenly, the sound of footsteps echoed down the corridor. My eyes flew open, and Mattheo reacted instantly, pulling me into a nearby alcove and pressing a hand gently over my mouth. My heart raced, not from fear but from the thrill of almost being caught. I couldn’t help the mischievous smile that crept onto my lips as I peeked up at him.
His eyes were locked onto mine, and he had that signature smirk of his as we both listened to the footsteps drawing nearer. The Ravenclaw group passed by, completely oblivious to our presence. I had to bite my lip to keep from laughing at how close we had come to being caught.
As soon as they were out of sight, I grinned and grabbed his collar, yanking him back to me. “Where were we?” I asked, my voice playful as I pressed my lips to his once more. The taste of him was intoxicating, and I was already forgetting why we needed to stop.
His hands slid down my back, pulling me even closer, his lips moving hungrily against mine. “Right here,” he murmured between kisses. “Not going anywhere, princess.”
I laughed softly, feeling the thrill of the moment surge through me. “You’re going to get us both in trouble,” I teased, even as I kissed him deeper, not caring at all about the consequences.
“Worth it,” he breathed out, his lips trailing down to my collarbone, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. “You know, you could just skip class… stay here with me. I promise I’ll make it worth your while.”
“I definitely don’t want to go to class right now.”
“Who says we have to?” he murmured, his voice low and tempting as he pressed another kiss to the corner of my mouth.
I sighed dramatically, feigning frustration. “You’re such a bad influence, Riddle.”
“And you’re such a willing participant, Y/L/N,” he shot back with a smirk, pulling me back in for another kiss. This time, it was even more heated, as if the idea of sneaking around had only fueled the fire between us.
But just as things were getting even more intense, a familiar voice interrupted us. “Oh, don’t mind me. Continue.”
We both pulled away quickly, turning to see Theo standing there, looking entirely too amused for my liking.
Mattheo sighed, rolling his eyes before he spoke, “Theo, mate, you’re my best friend. Can’t you find something better to do than being a cockblock?”
Theo crossed his arms, smirking. “And you two were supposed to be finding the person behind the gossip column, not making out in an empty hallway.”
At Theo's words, realization hit me like a lightning bolt. The Daily Prophet letter! It was supposed to be today! I spun around to face him. “Theo, did the letter arrive yet?”
He shook his head. “Nope, nothing. You might’ve scared them off for good.”
I frowned, trying to think straight despite the lingering heat in my body from Mattheo’s touch. “That’s strange… they’ve been so consistent."
Mattheo’s hand was still on my waist, his thumb brushing gently over my skin, and despite my worry, I couldn’t help but feel a small thrill at his touch. I turned to him, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek. “I should probably go so I won’t be late for class,” I said softly, though every part of me wanted to stay right here with him.
“You sure you don’t want to stay? I can think of a few more ways to spend the time.”
I laughed, giving him a quick peck on the lips. “Tempting, but I’ll save that for later.” With that, I pulled away from him, giving Theo a playful wave as I hurried off down the corridor.
As I walked away, I could hear Mattheo’s voice behind me, low and teasing. “You know, Theo, sometimes I think you take your job as a third wheel a little too seriously.”
Theo’s laughter echoed through the hallway as I turned the corner, already counting down the minutes until I could see Mattheo again.
I sat in class, staring blankly at the parchment in front of me, my quill lazily tracing random lines across the page. The absence of the Daily Gossip Letter today was unsettling, and I could feel the unease settling over the classroom like a heavy fog. Everyone else seemed to be thinking the same thing—why hadn’t it come today? The letter had become a constant, its arrival as predictable as the sunrise, yet today, there was nothing.
As I absentmindedly doodled on my notebook, my mind began to wander, trying to piece together why the letter had stopped.
But why would it stop?
I tried to focus, to pay attention to the professor’s words, but my thoughts kept wandering. The gossip letter had become a staple at Hogwarts, a daily dose of scandal that everyone had come to expect. So why would it just… stop?
Unless… unless the person behind it didn’t need it anymore.
The thought sent a shiver down my spine. I started to think about all the things that had been written about me in that damned letter. The gossip wasn’t just random; it was targeted, specific. Almost like someone had a personal reason.
I started recalling all the gossip that had been written about me. My so-called date with Prince Edward, which wasn’t even a real date because I had turned him down. But when I returned to school, the letter had detailed everything about it—except the rejection part, of course. That happened privately, away from prying eyes. So how did the letter know about the date in the first place? Who else was in Italy at the same time as me?
My heart began to race as I straightened in my seat, my hand shaking slightly as I wrote down the names of the only two people who could have possibly known. The first name felt wrong, implausible, but the second… my stomach twisted as I scrawled it down.
I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself. My thoughts raced back to another piece of gossip—the one about me supposedly flirting with a Durmstrang student during the Yule Ball. The truth was, I had been trying to get information about a certain dark artifact that night, and the conversation had been strictly business. Yet the letter painted a completely different picture.
Again, I scribbled down the name. My hand tightened around the quill as I recalled another instance—Time when I helped Adrian Pucey sneak into the restricted section of the library. It was late at night, and we were careful not to get caught. But the letter described it in perfect detail, down to the exact time we were there. Who else knew?
The quill in my hand quivered as I wrote down the final name. My breathing became shallow, and I could feel tears welling up in my eyes as all the clues finally came together, like pieces of a puzzle that I had been too blind to see. Every rumor, every piece of gossip, every little detail that had been written about me, led back to one person.
I circled the name angrily, feeling my heart break as I stared at the words on the page, the tears now spilling down my cheeks.
I didn’t care that the professor was calling my name, didn’t care about the shocked whispers that followed me as I bolted out of the classroom. All I could think about was finding him, confronting him. My feet carried me quickly down the corridors, my heart pounding in my chest as I headed toward the Great Hall. But when I got there, he wasn’t among the students milling about.
I clenched my fists, trying to think. Where would he be? Then it hit me—Quidditch practice. They had the last part of the day off.
Without another thought, I made my way to the Slytherin dorms. My mind was racing, anger and betrayal twisting in my chest as I reached his door. I didn’t hesitate as I knocked, the sound echoing in the empty corridor.
When the door opened, Mattheo’s surprised expression turned into a mischievous smirk as he leaned against the frame, eyes raking over me. “Y/N? What, you miss kissing me so much you had to skip class?” His tone was playful, teasing, and he stepped aside to let me in.
I ignored the flutter in my chest and walked past him into the room. The moment he saw my face, though, his smirk faded. He closed the door and turned to me, concern clouding his eyes. “Are you okay?” he asked, his voice softer now, as he moved closer. “Y/N, what’s wrong? Talk to me.”
I sat down on his bed, feeling the weight of his gaze on me. His words echoed in my mind, the ones he’d said before about how the person behind the gossip letter must want to get a reaction out of me. I looked up at him, a cold smile curling my lips. "Well, was it good?"
Mattheo frowned, confusion crossing his features. “What are we talking about now, princess?”
“The reaction you got out of me,” I said, and just like that, the smile on my face vanished, replaced by the full weight of my anger and hurt. “Was it everything you hoped for?”
His face went blank, the confusion deepening in his eyes. “Wait, Y/N—”
“Checkmate, Riddle,” I said, my voice trembling as I stood up, the anger and hurt finally spilling over.
"You were the only one who knew about Italy, about what happened there. You were the one who was with me at the Yule Ball. You were there when Adrian and I sneaked into the library." My voice grew louder with each accusation, tears burning in my eyes. "All of those details, every single one of them—it was you. You were the one writing the gossip letter, weren’t you?"
Tears blurred my vision as I continued, my voice shaking with emotion. “Was it fun for you? Watching me losing my mind, seeing how much it effected me? Was it a game, Mattheo? Did you enjoy it? You said the person doing this wanted a reaction—well, congratulations, you got it. You got everything you wanted. I trusted you… I thought you cared, but you were just playing me all along.”
“You’ve been playing me this whole time, haven’t you? Feeding me lies, watching as I fell for every trap you set. And for what? A laugh? A good story?”
“Y/N, that’s not—” he started, but I cut him off.
“Save it,” I spat out, my voice breaking under the weight of my emotions. “You’ve already won. I just wonder why you haven’t written your final story yet—it’s a good one. Especially the part where you—"
But before I could finish, he cut me off, his voice trembling with an emotion I hadn’t expected.
"What could I have done, Y/N? What could I have possibly done?" he began, his words tumbling out in a rush, raw and unfiltered. "I was there, yes, I was right there with you—through all of it. But do you know why? Do you know why I couldn’t stay away?"
I froze, his words piercing through my anger like a knife. He continued, his voice thick with desperation. "I’ve loved you all this time, from the first day I got off that stupid train, from the first moment I laid eyes on you. And I can’t remember a single day where I haven’t been in love with you.
He paused, his eyes locked on mine, pleading for understanding. "It wasn’t just some stupid crush, Y/N. It was an obsession, it was madness—but it was love. I loved you, and I still love you. I was desperate… Desperate to be near you, to be a part of your life, even if it meant doing something as twisted as this."
I stood frozen."You could have just said that. You should have just told me that."
"Yeah, right," he scoffed bitterly, shaking his head. "Fucking right, Y/N."
"What do you mean?" I asked, my voice wavering.
"You had a damn prince crying after you rejected him," Mattheo snapped, his frustration and jealousy spilling over. "A prince, Y/N! And here I am, the son of a psychopath, the last person anyone should ever trust, much less love. What was I supposed to say? ‘Oh, by the way, I’m in love with you, even though my father’s the Dark Lord and everyone expects me to be just like him’? Who the hell would ever want that?"
He paced the room, running a hand through his hair as he continued, his voice strained. "Every day, I watched you. I saw you with your friends, with guys who could give you everything—everything. And the worst part? The worst fucking part was knowing that no matter what I did, no matter how close I got, it would never be enough. Not for someone like you."
Tears welled up in my eyes again, but this time they weren’t from anger. "You don’t get it, Mattheo. None of that mattered to me. None of it. I didn’t care about titles or any of that. I just wanted someone who was real with me. Someone who saw me for who I am, not just as some piece in a game."
He stopped pacing and turned to me, his expression softening. "I did see you, Y/N. That’s why I did what I did. The letters… they were my way of being close to you, of being a part of your world. But I was so scared of losing you, of you finding out what I’d done, that I just kept digging myself deeper. And now… now I’ve lost you anyway."
His voice broke on the last word, and the sight of him standing there, so vulnerable, shattered the last of my defenses.
Just as I was about to respond, movement from the next bed caught my eye. I blinked, my heart skipping a beat when I saw Enzo sitting up, looking between Mattheo and me with wide, startled eyes, propped up on his elbows.
He Clearly had heard more than enough. "Oh, fuck," he muttered, a sheepish grin spreading across his face. "I’ve got this thing—relationship phobia. Can’t be around emotional confessions, they give me hives." [p.s that’s the same Enzo from Down bad pray for him]
He awkwardly shuffled out of the bed, rubbing the back of his neck. "Sorry, guys. Gonna get out of here real quick. Pretend I was never here, yeah?" With that, he practically bolted out of the room, leaving me staring after him in disbelief until the door clicked shut behind him.
This family is insane.
We both stood there in silence for a moment, the sudden interruption leaving us both a bit stunned. I didn’t know what to say, and it seemed like Mattheo didn’t either.
“Y/N,” he finally whispered, his voice cracking as he took a tentative step toward me. “Please… say something. Anything.”
“You hurt me, Mattheo,” I whispered, my voice trembling. “You lied to me, manipulated me."
“I know,” he replied, his voice thick with emotion. “I know I did, and I hate myself for it. But Y/N, please believe me when I say that I never meant to hurt you. I just… I didn’t know how else to keep you close.”
Tears welled up in my eyes again, and I wiped them away furiously, hating how vulnerable I felt in this moment. “Why didn’t you just tell me how you felt? Why did you have to go through all this?”
“I’m sorry,” he breathed, his voice so quiet, so broken, that it made my chest ache. “I’m so fucking sorry, Y/N. I never wanted to hurt you. I just… I didn’t know how else to be close to you. I didn’t know how to tell you that I loved you without feeling like I was going to lose you.”
I bit my lip, trying to hold back the tears that were threatening to spill over. “But you didn’t have to do it like this, Mattheo. You didn’t have to lie to me, to manipulate me, just to be close. I would’ve—” My voice broke, and I had to take a deep breath to steady myself. “I would’ve loved you anyway."
Mattheo's face softened, his brow furrowing in confusion as he whispered, "You would?" His voice was barely audible, almost as if he didn’t believe the words that had just left his lips.
I couldn’t bring myself to answer right away. My heart was pounding, and I could feel the walls I had built around myself beginning to crumble. Without a word, I got up from the bed and walked toward him, each step feeling heavier than the last.
"Yeah," I finally said, my voice trembling as I stood in front of him. "Because it would’ve been easy, Mattheo."
His eyes searched mine, desperate and lost, as if he was trying to find the truth in my words.
"I’ve loved you," I began, my voice cracking, "from the moment I stepped off that stupid train, too love must have been in the air that day or something. But I couldn’t let myself admit it. Instead, I pushed you away, pretended I couldn’t stand you because I was terrified—terrified of how much I wanted you, how much I needed you." Tears spilled over, and I couldn’t stop them this time. They streamed down my face as I choked out the words I had been too afraid to say for so long. "I didn’t know how to deal with how much you consumed me, so I fought it. But it was always you, Mattheo. It was always you."
He moved closer, his hands gently cupping my face, wiping away my tears with his thumbs. His touch was soft, so different from the way he usually carried himself—like he was afraid I might break if he wasn’t careful.
“I didn’t know…” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “I didn’t know you felt that way.”
“I did. I do,” I confessed, my voice barely above a whisper as I leaned into his touch. “I just didn’t want to admit how much you meant to me. How much you still mean to me.”
Mattheo’s forehead rested against mine, his breath warm on my skin as he held me close. “I’m sorry,” he murmured, his voice filled with a kind of raw vulnerability I’d never heard from him before. “I didn’t know how to show you what I felt without messing everything up. I was so afraid of losing you that I did the exact thing that could drive you away.”
I shook my head, trying to push away the flood of emotions that threatened to overwhelm me. “I know,” I whispered, my hands clutching the front of his shirt as if he was the only thing keeping me grounded. “I know now that the letters were more about admiring me than harming me. They only felt too much when another boy was involved, and… and I get it. I get that it was your twisted way of dealing with jealousy.”
He pulled back just enough to look into my eyes, his gaze intense but soft, as if he was seeing me for the first time. “You mean everything to me,” he said, his voice so quiet it was almost a breath. “I just didn’t know how to show it without screwing it up.”
“You don’t have to be perfect,” I told him, my voice shaky as I tried to make him understand. “You just have to be you. That’s all I ever wanted.”
Mattheo’s grip on me tightened, and he leaned in, his lips brushing against mine in the softest, most tentative kiss. It was like he was asking for permission, for forgiveness, and I gave it to him willingly, kissing him back with all the emotions I had kept bottled up for so long.
As the kiss deepened, I felt the last of my walls crumble, leaving me completely vulnerable in his arms. But for the first time, I wasn’t afraid. I knew that despite everything, this was where I was meant to be. And maybe, just maybe, we could find our way back to each other from here.
“I love you,” I whispered against his lips, my voice thick with tears and longing.
“I love you to—”
The door suddenly burst open, and Blaise walked in, his eyes widening as he took in the scene. He froze for a moment, his gaze darting between the two of us, and then a slow smirk spread across his face.
“Well, well, well,” he drawled, crossing his arms and leaning against the doorframe. “Isn’t this cozy? I was just coming to grab a book, but it looks like I walked into the middle of a romance novel. Should I start narrating? ‘And in that moment, their love ignited like a house elf’s poorly managed kitchen fire…’”
I felt my face flush, and I quickly stepped back from Mattheo, wiping at my eyes. “Blaise, could you just…not?” Mattheo said .
Blaise chuckled, completely unfazed by Mattheo’s irritation. “Oh, don’t mind me. I’ll just be over here, pretending I didn’t walk in on whatever _this_ is.” He waved his hand vaguely in our direction before sauntering over to the bookshelf.
I shot Mattheo a look, trying to stifle a laugh as Blaise exaggeratedly searched for his book, humming to himself like nothing unusual had happened.
Mattheo sighed, shaking his head as he muttered, “I’m killing you after this.”
“Nuh,” Blaise called out, pulling a book from the shelf and turning back to us with a grin. “You love me.”
“Debatable,” Mattheo shot back, but there was a hint of a smile on his lips.
Blaise winked at me before heading toward the door. “Carry on with your dramatic declarations of love. I’ll leave you two to…whatever this is.” With that, he slipped out of the room, leaving us alone once more.
As the door clicked shut, I couldn’t help but let out a small laugh, Mattheo looked down at me.
“Where were we?” he asked softly, pulling me back into his arms.
“I think you were about to tell me how much you love me,” I teased, my heart swelling with warmth.
“Right,” he whispered, his voice turning serious again as he leaned in to kiss me. “ Fuck yeah I love you. So much.”
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shangchiswife · 2 months
Text
logan howlett- little black dress
Tumblr media
summary: after seeing logan and jean together, you feel jealous and decide to get even.
logan x fem!reader
warnings: smut, cursing
word count: 2952
....
The annual gala at Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters was always an exciting night, with mutants and humans in their best outfits, enjoying themselves and having a blast.
Tonight, however, you had a little more on your mind than just a good time. 
You and Logan had been dating for a few months now, and while your relationship was strong, there was something about the way he and Jean spent so much time together recently that had sparked a pang of jealousy in you.
You had chosen a little black dress that hugged your figure perfectly, accentuating every curve with its elegant design.
As you put on your earrings and took one last look in the mirror you felt a rush of confidence, a smirk forming on your lips. 
You were ready to drive him absolutely insane.
As you walked into the grand ballroom, the atmosphere was full of energy and excitement.
The soft glow of chandeliers highlighted the glittering attire of the guests, the air buzzing with the sound of clinking glasses and lively conversations.
Your entrance did not go unnoticed.
Heads turned, and conversations paused as you walked confidently through the crowd. You could even see students whispering and pointing at you. At one point one of them even wolf-whistled at you.
“Looking good, Miss L/N,” one of the students called out with a grin.
You shot him a playful look. “That’s a detention for you, Richard,” you said with a smirk, watching as his grin faltered.
From the corner of your eye, you spotted Logan, deep in conversation with Jean which made your smile fade.
Game on, you thought as you scanned the room and spotted a handsome mutant dressed in a dark suit talking animatedly with Scott.
When Scott excused himself, you saw your opening.
With a purposeful stride, you approached the man, your eyes sparkling with mischief. His attention shifted to you as you neared, and you flashed him a warm smile.
The mutant’s eyes widened as he drank in your appearance.
“Good evening,” you purred, your voice laced with a hint of playful charm. “I hope you don’t mind if I join you for a moment.”
“Not at all,” he said with a friendly smile. “I’m Stan. And you are?”
“Y/N,” you said, offering a hand to him which he graciously took. 
“So, Stan,” you said, your eyes sparkling, “What brings you to this splendid event tonight? It’s not every day you meet someone with such an intriguing presence.”
Stan seemed to appreciate the attention, his smile widening as he ran a hand through his blonde hair.
“I was actually looking for a bit of excitement,” he said with a wink. “And it looks like I’ve found it.”
You laughed lightly, making sure to touch his arm casually as you spoke. “Well, I’m glad to be part of your exciting evening. It’s always nice to find someone who knows how to enjoy themselves.”
As the conversation continued, you noticed Logan watching from across the room. His gaze was intense, and you could see his frustration growing. He kept glancing over, unable to tear his eyes away from your interaction with Stan.
His gaze darkened, intense and almost feral, as he took in the sight of you. You saw the way his hand tightened around his drink, the barely restrained hunger in his eyes. 
It was exactly the reaction you had been hoping for.
Jean said something to him, but he didn’t respond, his focus entirely on you.
You smiled, just a hint of satisfaction curling your lips before you returned your attention to Stan.
 “You know,” he said, his voice lowering slightly, “I’m really enjoying our conversation. How about we leave this party and continue it somewhere more private?”
Before you could respond, you saw Logan storming over, his face red with anger.
“Hey, Y/N,” Logan said, his voice clipped. “We need to talk,” 
Stan looked between you and Logan, sensing the sudden shift in the atmosphere. “Is everything alright?” he asked, clearly unsure of what to do.
“We’re fine,” Logan practically barked at him, his eyes not leaving yours for a second.
You glanced at Logan, your expression a mix of surprise and curiosity. 
“I think I’ll handle this,” you said to Stan, giving him a reassuring smile. “Thank you for the lovely conversation.”
“Of course,” Stan replied, stepping back. He cast one last, disappointed glance at you before exiting the ballroom.
Logan’s intense gaze remained fixed on you, and you couldn’t help but feel a little bit of wetness pooling in your panties.
“What’s the deal with you and Stan?” he demanded, his voice low and edged with frustration. 
“You’re driving me insane, flaunting yourself in that hot little dress and flirting with him like that.”
“I didn’t realize I had such an effect on you,” you said, attempting to sound playful despite the blush creeping up your neck.
Logan took a step closer to you so that your chests were practically touching. The air between you crackled with tension.
“You knew exactly what you were doing,” he said, his voice dropping to a growl. “Watching you with someone else is pushing me to my limit.”
You felt a rush of exhilaration at his dominant demeanor.
“Maybe that was the point,” you said, leaning in slightly, your voice dropping to a whisper. “To make you remember what you mean to me.”
Logan’s eyes darkened with desire, his hand reaching out to grasp your arm firmly. 
“You’re testing my patience,” he warned, his voice thick with barely restrained need. “And I’m done waiting.”
Your heart skipped a beat at his words and the assertive way he was holding you. You tilted your head slightly, your lips close to his ear. 
“Maybe it’s exactly what we both needed,” you murmured, your voice laced with suggestiveness. “To see where this tension leads us.”
Logan’s grip on your arm tightened just enough to send a shiver down your spine. 
“We’re going somewhere more private,” he declared, his tone leaving no room for argument.
“Now.”
With that, he guided you firmly but gently through the crowd, his hand never leaving yours. 
The vibrant energy of the ballroom faded as he led you swiftly and confidently towards a quieter, more secluded area.
Your heart hammered in your chest. This is what you were waiting for.
Logan’s hand stayed firmly on your back, leading you towards a quieter, more private corner.
When you reached a quiet corner, Logan wasted no time. 
He pushed you gently but firmly against the wall, his body pressing close to yours, his breath hot against your skin.
Logan’s gaze locked onto yours, his eyes full of lust.
“Do you have any idea how much you’ve been torturing me tonight?”  he growled, his voice low and rough, sending a thrill of excitement through you.
You could barely keep your composure as his words made you even wetter. 
“Maybe I wanted to see just how far I could push you,” you replied, your voice soft and teasing, “to remind you of what you mean to me.”
Logan’s lips curved into a predatory smile. 
“Well, you’ve definitely made your point,” he said, his voice dripping with authority. “Now, I’m going to make sure you feel exactly how much I’ve been waiting.”
Without another word, he cupped your face with one hand, his thumb brushing lightly over your lips before he captured them in a deep, demanding kiss. His lips moved against yours with a mix of urgency and hunger, his hands exploring the curves of your body in a possessive manner.
You responded eagerly, your hands sliding up to his neck, pulling him closer as the kiss deepened. Butterflies formed in your stomach, yielding to his every move. 
When the kiss finally broke, you were both panting, your chest heaving as you tried to catch your breath.
Logan’s eyes were dark with desire and dominance. 
“I’m not letting you go until you’ve made up for every second I’ve had to wait,” he said, his tone leaving no room for disagreement.
You looked up at him, your breath catching at the raw intensity in his gaze.
“I think I said something, sweetheart,” Logan said, his voice lowering to a soft but commanding murmur. “What do you say?”
Your pulse quickened as you met his gaze, the fire in his eyes fueling your own excitement. 
“I’m ready,” you whispered, your voice trembling with anticipation.
A satisfied smirk tugged at the corner of Logan’s lips. 
“Such a good girl,” he pressed a chaste kiss to your lips that left you craving more.
You whimpered softly as he began unzipping your dress, the cool air brushing against your skin as the fabric fell away, leaving you exposed under his hungry gaze.
The sensation of his fingers brushing against your bare back sent shivers through you, making you breathless.
Once the dress was loosened enough, he guided it off your shoulders and let it fall to the floor, his eyes never leaving yours. The look of hunger in his gaze made you feel both vulnerable and incredibly desired.
Logan’s hands roamed over your bare skin with a possessive intensity, each touch sending waves of pleasure through you. 
His gaze was unwavering, filled with a deep, primal desire that made every touch feel electrifying.
He took his time, savoring the way your body responded to his touch. His fingertips traced patterns across your skin, exploring and teasing as he gradually shifted his focus to your bare breasts.
“So fuckin’ pretty,” he praised before taking one of your nipples in your mouth.
You moaned in delight, your hand instinctively moving to grip his hair, pulling him closer as you arched into his touch.
Logan’s mouth worked expertly, his tongue flicking and sucking with a rhythm that drove you wild.
After a few moments, he pulled back slightly, his lips still lingering on your skin. 
His breath was hot against your ear as he whispered, “You have no idea what it did to me, seeing you in that black dress. It made me want you more than I thought was possible.”
Logan's hands gripped your hips, pulling you closer until you could feel the hardness straining against his pants.
You whimpered as you started grinding on his clothed cock making him groan. You began to grind against his clothed erection, the friction causing both of you to moan. 
His grip tightened, guiding your movements with an urgency that made your breath hitch. 
“That’s it,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire. “Show me how much you want this.”
You could feel his need growing, matched by your own as you pressed harder against him.
As you continued to move, Logan’s hands slid down to cup your ass, pulling you closer and deepening the contact. 
His kisses were fierce, trailing down your neck as he held you against him. The heat and urgency in his touch made every moment more intense, heightening the pleasure for both of you.
Logan’s breaths were ragged, his voice low and feral as he groaned against your skin.
“I need you,” you whispered between kisses, your voice a desperate plea. 
With a growl, he bent down so that his face was level with your black lacy panties. Without breaking eye contact, he leaned in, his fingertips grazing your inner thighs before his teeth caught the edge of your panties. In one swift, deliberate motion, he pulled them down, the fabric sliding away like a tease.
You moaned as the cool air hit your bare pussy.
Logan’s gaze remained fixed on you as he tossed the panties aside. His hands cupped your hips, pulling you closer. 
He pressed a heated kiss to your inner thigh, his breath warm against your skin.
When his lips finally brushed against your core, the shock of pleasure made you gasp.
Your hands carded through his hair making him grunt.
“Taste so fuckin’ good, peach,” he murmured eating you out like a man starved, his praise sending a wave of pleasure that made you moan uncontrollably.
He continued his assault on your pussy with his tongue. The way he alternated between teasing licks and firm strokes made you see stars, your moans growing louder with each passing second.
“Lo I’m gonna-” you shut your eyes with contentment as he flicked your clit with his tongue, his movements becoming faster.
“Cum for me baby,” he coaxed, his voice rough with desire. His command sent you over the edge, your body surrendering to the powerful waves of pleasure that crashed over you.
Logan straightened up, a satisfied smile playing on his lips as he licked his lips.
“I could eat that pussy for hours,” he said before undoing his belt.
Your eyes widened with anticipation as his cock sprang free, thick, and ready.
With a swift motion, he pressed you against the wall, the cool surface brushing against your bare breasts.
You felt him line his cock against your entrance making you mewl.
“Don’t worry, peach, I’ll take care of you,” his breath brushed against your ear before he playfully nibbled it, causing a light shiver to run through you.
He entered you with a groan.
“Always so fucking tight,” he hissed as your mouth contorted into an o shape from his length stretching you.
He didn’t even give you a moment to adjust to his size before his hips began to move, thrusting deep and relentlessly.
“This is what you wanted, isn’t it?” he panted, each word punctuated by a sharp thrust that drove you higher and higher. 
Your only response was a high-pitched moan, your body arching involuntarily.
“You wanted me jealous, wanted me to fuck you like this,” he growled, one calloused hand wrapping around your throat while the other found your clit, teasing and tormenting you.
“Well, sweetheart, you got your wish,” he snarled, his cock twitching inside you as your screams urged him on, driving him deeper with every thrust, each one perfectly hitting your g-spot.
He groaned, eyes closing momentarily as he felt you tighten around him. 
“Keep making those pretty little sounds, baby,” he commanded, quickening the pace of his hips, and making you squeal even louder.
“Logan, I’m gonna cum,” you gasped, your breath hitching as your walls fluttered around him.
“Then cum for me,” he demanded, his voice thick with desire.
The heat between you grew unbearable, and you could feel your release building, your body on the brink of release.
Logan's grip on your throat tightened slightly, just enough to remind you of his control, while his other hand continued its merciless assault on your clit. The rhythm of his hips became erratic, his own need evident as he pounded into you with increasing urgency.
"Come on, baby," he rasped, his voice rough and filled with dark promise. "I want to feel you cum around my cock. Let go for me."
That was all it took. 
Pleasure shot through you in waves that left you breathless and shuddering beneath him. Your walls clenched tight around him, milking his cock as you rode out your orgasm, the world fading into nothing but intense, consuming bliss.
Logan groaned deeply, his own restraint slipping as he felt you convulse around him. 
His hips snapped forward one last time, burying himself to the hilt as he let out a guttural growl, releasing inside you in hot, pulsing waves.
He held you there, still and breathless, his body pressed tightly against yours as you both came down from the high. 
Slowly, he released his hold on your throat, his fingers brushing over the marks he'd left behind. His other hand stayed between your legs, gently soothing you as you both caught your breath.
"That's my girl," Logan murmured, his voice softer now, laced with a tenderness that made your heart swell. He leaned down to press a kiss to your forehead, his breath warm against your skin. "You did so good, baby."
“Maybe I should make you jealous more often,” you panted, a smile coming to your lips.
Logan chuckled, the sound deep and rough, as he brushed a stray lock of hair from your face. 
“You think you can handle it?” he teased back, though the edge in his voice told you he wasn’t entirely joking.
You bit your lip, feeling the lingering aftershocks of your orgasm still pulsing through your body.
“Careful what you wish for, sweetheart,” he murmured, his thumb tracing the outline of your swollen lips before leaning down to capture them in a searing kiss. 
“Maybe I should make you jealous more often,” you panted, a smile tugging at your lips as you looked up at him, your body still trembling with the aftershocks of your release.
Logan’s eyes glinted with a mixture of amusement and warning as he let out a low chuckle. 
“You might want to be careful with that, sweetheart,” he replied, his voice rough but tinged with affection. 
He leaned down, brushing his lips softly against yours in a kiss that was surprisingly tender after the intensity of what you’d just shared. 
“Because you know I’ll always give you exactly what you ask for.”
You smiled into the kiss, your heart still racing but now with a warmth that spread through your chest. 
“Maybe that’s what I’m counting on,” you teased, your fingers threading through his hair as you pulled him closer, deepening the kiss.
He groaned softly, his hand trailing down your side, fingers tracing lazy patterns on your skin. 
“You’re something else,” he murmured, his tone full of admiration as he pulled back just enough to look into your eyes. “But you’re mine, and don’t you forget it.”
“Don’t worry I won’t,”
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papercorgiworld · 3 months
Text
No smoke, only love in the air
Mattheo and Theo imagine
When the guys notice that you don’t like their smoking habit they quit, but dealing with the withdrawal has your boyfriend constantly needy for a kiss. 
A/N: I'm sorry for taking so long with this request. I still got few messages in my inbox. I will get to them I’m just short on inspiration, witch is new for me and kinda sad. I’m not super happy with this one but I wanted it finished and out here so I can have some inner peace. Anyways happy readings hopefully it’s not too bad and lots of love to all you darlings, may your week be filled with joy and good fictions. 💛
Mattheo 
You and your boyfriend join his friends at the astronomy tower. As soon Mattheo spots Theodore taking a drag from his cigarette he starts to crave one as well. Your boyfriend lets go of your hand. “Gimme.” Mattheo says reaching out his hand to his friend to ask for a kind donation of cigarettes, either because he was out of smokes or he had forgotten his pack somewhere. Theodore rolls his eyes and growls with his cigarette still between his lips. “Why are you so cheap, Riddle?” Theo complains while reaching in his pocket for his pack of cigarettes. Mattheo smiles wickedly at his friend’s annoyance as he still gets what he wants. 
Finally, with a cigarette between his fingers Mattheo’s eyes wander back to you. He gently tugs you towards him as he leans against the side of the railing. You let yourself fall against his chest and stay there in his arms for a few seconds as he argues with Theodore about him not being cheap. You roll your eyes in disgust when Mattheo starts mumbling with the cigarette between his lips.
You turn away when he lights his smoke. “Come back, princess.” Mattheo whines, he wants you back in his arms. “Nah I got to study, see you later.” You kiss him on the cheek. When you’re out of sight Draco lets out a howling laugh. “Future Miss Riddle doesn’t like it when you smoke.” Blaise snorts. “I don’t blame her, you better not smoke around her she deserves better than to inhale that filth”. Mattheo stares at his cigarette as if he had just now figured out it wasn’t a healthy snack. Truth is, he never cared and it never mattered but now you were in his life, it did matter.
That evening he smoked his last cigarette and ordered Theodore to not give him any smokes from now on. 
However dedicated Mattheo was to his plan to quit, it didn’t make it any easier. His body craved the nicotine and nothing calmed him… except for you. Your presence was some magical cure to relax his mind and body. Which resulted in Mattheo constantly searching for you and more specifically your lips. A kiss before class. A kiss after class. Maybe during class when the teacher wasn’t paying attention. A quick kiss in the hallway when he passed you. It seemed innocent and still quite normal, but the longer your boyfriend stayed away from the cigarettes the crazier he got about your kisses. Crawling in between crowds to get to you as quickly as possible for just a small peck. Sneaking into your classes to kiss you and of course getting detention for doing so. It could be the middle of dinner and he would just come sit between you and your friends to kiss you.
You sit in the great half for dinner with Hermoine and Luna on either side of you when Mattheo shamelessly puts his leg between you and Luna. “Excuse me.” He announces, urging Luna to scoot aside, which she does looking a little more confused than she normally does. “Matt?” You ask, surprised by his sudden appearance. He slings his arm around you without a word, before pulling you in for a tender kiss. Your friends blink a few times and Mattheo pulls away, leaving your eyes twinkly from the loving kiss. “Okay, I’ll leave you to it. Granger. Odd girl from Ravenclaw.” Mattheo nods to your friends and gets up leaving you very confused as your boyfriend has again stolen a kiss from you at a most random moment. “How am I the odd one?” Luna asks, turning to her food after watching Mattheo leave. “I think it’s cute.” Hermione says, not sounding convincing at all.
***
“Something’s off and you have to tell me what… because it’s getting out of hand.” You demand an explanation after Mattheo had just tackled you in the hallway to pull you into him and kiss you like his life depended on it. “What?” He laughed, “I'm allowed to kiss you, I’m your boyfriend.” Ron snorts, unable to keep his opinion to himself making Mattheo glare at him. You grab Mattheo’s face forcing him to look at you. “Matt, I love that you kiss me any time and all the time, but you’re kinda overdoing it.” You whisper those last words hesitantly, but Mattheo hears and is slightly offended. His tongue moves over his bottom lips as he seems to drown in serious thoughts. “Matt, I love you, talk to me.” You urge him to let you in. He sighs and gives in, pulling you into a more quiet hallway.
“I quit smoking.” He breathes out, immediately glad to have confessed it, and you let out a soft laugh. “That’s great… but what does that have to do with you going on a kissing-spree?” Mattheo moves a nervous hand through his hair and chuckles. “I get nervous without my smokes and my body craves the nicotine and you calm me.” His voice turns into a whisper as he confesses how important you are to him. You quirk an eyebrow at him. “Mattheo Riddle, are you using me as a drug?” You quip, crossing your arms, but unable to hide your obvious amusement. “No! You’re more like my favourite healthy snack.” Mattheo leans in for his millionth kiss and you're happy to snake an arm around him and deepen it. As silly as it was, it wasn't the worst to be constantly kissed by your boyfriend. 
Theodore
Your boyfriend sees you happily skip towards him and he immediately drops his cigarette, quickly crushing it with his foot to keep it from burning further. “Hi.” You smile with a happy face. You lean towards him for a kiss and Theodore eagerly wraps his arms around your figure. “Hi.” He whispers suggestively, while drowning in your eyes, but just as your lips are about to touch you pull away a little. “Ugh, you smell like cigarettes.” Draco and Mattheo snicker in the background and Theo is about to snap at them when Luna calls you. “Hi, (y/n)! Are you joining us in Hogsmeade?” You nod her way and place your hand on Theo’s chest. “See you later.”
“No kiss?” Theodore whines as you leave and you just crunch your nose making it clear to him that it was the cigarette smell and taste that came in between the kiss. As soon as you’re out of sight, Theodore curses. “I’m gonna have to quit, aren’t I?” Enzo nods and Theodore growls, before reaching for his pack and throwing it at Mattheo. “Early Christmas gift?” Mattheo grins and Theodore rolls his eyes. “Just, don’t give it back no matter how I beg.” Mattheo’s grin grows and turns wicked. “This is going to be fun.
***
“One?” Theodore asks Mattheo who’s lounging in the slytherin common room. “One of these?” Mattheo shows the pack of smokes, shaking it before quickly putting it away, earning a loud groan of frustration from his friend and in turn making Mattheo snicker. Theo lets himself fall on the couch opposite of Mattheo. “I’m going insane.” He complains, but just then you walk in and take a seat on your boyfriend’s lap. You want to greet Theo but he doesn’t let you, instantly crashing his lips into yours. “Hello to you.” You giggle and he responds with another kiss. Maybe this not smoking can work out after all. When the kisses turn more heated, some of Theo’s friends start howling while Blaise just looks annoyed at how his quiet reading moment got disturbed. “For the love of hygiëne, go to your room, Theo.” Your boyfriend breaks the kiss to make eye contact and check up on your opinion of Blaise’s idea. Without saying a word you grab Theo’s tie, leading him to his room.
Ever since that day Theo knew he had cracked the code. Your kisses calm him, so when he feels an urge to smoke again after class he doesn’t go begging for a cigarette with Mattheo but turns to you. You are still packing your books when your boyfriend walks over, snatching one of your books. You laugh and hold your hand out for him to return it. “Only if you kiss me.” You chuckle but lean into him and with an intense passion he takes your breath away. You blink a few times when he finally pulls away. “Here’s your book. See you later.” Again he lips meet yours, this time for a short and sweet kiss, but it still leaves you watching your boyfriend in shock. Since when is he so needy?
***
“Look at that, look at that.” Mattheo mocks with a cigarette between his lips, making Enzo and Theo turn in the direction he’s looking. Theodore doesn’t say anything, but a low grunt escapes him as you and Potter come into view. “The man’s flirting with ya girl, Theo.” Mattheo pushes, making Theo instinctively reach for his pack of smokes in annoyance. “They’re just friends, have been since first year, they’re never going to be anything more.” Theo sighs when he remembers that he doesn’t smoke anymore. “There’s plenty of girls I’m friends with… that I’ve seen naked.” Enzo adds with a grinny smile. “You’re both shit friends, you know that.” Theo complains reaching for the cigarette hanging from Mattheo’s lips. “Na-ah.” Mattheo mumbles as he pushes Theo’s hands away. “You’re one of those good boyfriends that don’t smoke, remember.” Theodore rolls his eyes and lets his head fall a little as his eyes focus on you. Normally a smoke would calm him and help him deal with his annoying friends but now… the agitation crept through his whole body. “I need a kiss.” Theo blurred, making his friends eye him strangely. “I’ll not volunteer as tribute for that.” Mattheo jokes, earning an eye roll from an irritated Theo. After a second of watching you talk with Potter, Theo makes up his mind. “I need my fix.” Theo surrenders to his craving and walks over leaving a confused Mattheo and grinning Enzo. “Man’s addicted to his girl. That’s a new level of love.” 
“Nott.” Harry simply states. “Hi T-” Theodore ignores your friend and doesn’t even let you finish, but just hungerly crashes his lips onto yours. “Wha-? Theo! You can’t just kiss me.” Your boyfriend’s eyebrows knit together. “Of course I can and I just needed one small kiss… Or maybe just one more.” Before you can say anything his lips again passionately move against yours. “Now you can go about your day.” Theodore says and just grimly nods at Potter as he always does, before walking in the direction of the castle. You stand there perplexed and a little annoyed. “Slytherin boyfriends, right?” Harry sighs like he knows how frustrating it can be, making you furrow for a moment before shaking it off. “I need to get to the bottom of whatever he’s got going on.” Harry nods understandingly and you run after Theo.
“Were you jealous?” You ask as soon as you’re close enough to Theodore. He turns and immediately shakes his head. “I just really needed to kiss you.” He explains like it’s normal reasoning. “Theo, I sometimes really want to kiss you as well but I never do it so desperately and urgently as you’ve been kissing me the past few days. What’s gotten into you?” Theo sighs at your continuous pushing. “Fine.” He says reluctantly, giving in to you. “I quit smoking… but it’s not exactly been easy.” Your brain tries to see a link between smoking and kissing but it doesn’t make any sense to you and your eyes show your genuine confusion to Theo, who can’t help but smile a little. “Kissing you calms me and helps me stay away from cigarettes. If I could I would put you in my pocket so I could kiss you whenever I’m stressed out.” You chuckle at his adorable confession, but quickly focus on the most important part. “You quit smoking?” You close the space between him and you, and start playing with his tie. “Yeah. I did. I don’t want to miss a moment with you because I smell bad and you deserve the best version of me.” You have no words for him and just kiss him, wrapping your arms around his neck as he pulls you against him by your hips. 
Walking in on your little make out, Blaise rolls his eyes. “Again? Can’t you two behave? You’re shocking the first years.” Theodore parts from you and licks his lips. “Can’t do that to those poor first years, can we?” You play along and shake your head. “No, we definitely should take this somewhere private.” Your suggestion causes a happy grin to tug on your boyfriend’s lips. Not smoking is definitely working out for me.
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amongemeraldclouds · 3 months
Text
love blooms in strange places
When Mattheo was assigned to help you tend to the greenhouse as punishment, he never expected detention could be so pleasant.
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Mattheo Riddle x f!Reader | Based on this request
Warning: fluff, one use of y/n, used my creative license to come up with plant lore and magic to serve the plot.
✿ Masterlist | Event Masterlist | Tea Party | 1.7k words
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When Mattheo Riddle started his day, the greenhouse was the last place he expected he would be. Yet that’s exactly where he was headed, kicking up dirt as he went.
Snape’s words haunted him as he slowed to the door. “Mr. Riddle, you had been in detention several times just this month alone. If you will not learn by reflection, you will learn by deed. As punishment, you will have to help y/n cultivate plants for a week.”
Before Mattheo could open his mouth, Snape raised his hand. “Any protests and we will make it a month.” He knew better than to talk.
He shook his head as he opened the door, eager to get it over with. He took in pots and plants of various shades of green, color sprouting sporadically where flowers and fruits blossomed. Then there was you.
You saw the curly haired boy approach, Mattheo Riddle, you recalled. Everything about him spelled trouble from the frown fixed on his face, to his askew tie, and the way he strut as if the entire world bent to his will.
You smiled and introduced yourself politely. Your mum after all had raised you to give others a chance. To look beyond first impressions.
Still, it didn’t surprise you when his frown stayed glued to his face. “Mattheo Riddle,” he just stated by way of introduction. “Here’s how this will work. I’m going to stay here,” he said, grabbing a chair at the side of the greenhouse and taking a seat. “I’ll stay out of your way, you stay out of mine. When the time is over, I’ll walk away. Nice and simple.”
“So you’ll just let me do all the work?” You huffed, your fists clenched by your side.
“Glad you’re catching on, darling. Go on. Some would say it’s a privilege to be around me but it’s okay if you don’t see that yet.” He flashed you a shit eating grin and propped his legs up the table across him. Such a shame. He’d probably be handsome if his personality weren’t so rotten.
You caught yourself and your expression turned livid. “No, being around you is punishment. I don’t know what I did to Snape to deserve this,” you mumbled to yourself.
Your mum may have raised you to be polite, but she also taught you to stand up against bullies. You strode over to the arrogant boy, plucking a bearded iris on your way. You crushed it beneath your fingers, muttering an incantation.
When you were close enough, you hurled the crushed petals at his feet. Upon impact, sparks burst. Bright searing sprays of light was accompanied by a loud bang.
Mattheo dodged it, losing his balance. His chair tipped backwards. He crashed to the floor.
The bearded iris was otherwise called the firebreather iris. He should have known better than to challenge you.
You towered over him. “You will help me as Snape intended. It’s bad enough I have to spend time with you. You will make yourself useful or that,” you pointed at the ashes of the firebreather iris, “is just the beginning of what I can do. There are poisonous plants around here like nightshade. I will not hesitate to use them and make it look like an accident.”
He looked at you as if he saw you for the first time. The fire was brighter in your eyes than the spark you had thrown. He was silent for a beat as he recalled what Theo warned him about nice girls. You never wanted to see them mad. They were always more clever and therefore more dangerous.
As much as he loved danger, he very much preferred to stay alive. Besides, things just got more interesting. He schooled his face to a bored expression. “Fine,” he said standing back up and dusting the dirt from his clothes and hair. “If you teach me that cool trick, I’ll help out.”
“Stick around and I’ll teach you a few things,” you nodded, satisfied. You tossed him a pair of gloves. “We’ll start here, plant boy.” He suppressed the smile that threatened to break across his features. It was fascinating how you snapped quickly back to your good natured self, as if you weren’t just threatening him moments earlier. If there was anything Mattheo loved, it was a challenge.
As he put on the gloves, he felt detention wouldn’t be so bad after all.
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Threatened by the poison and lured in by the idea of learning plant magic, Mattheo had surprisingly been a helpful herbology partner.
Yes, he was stubborn and annoying. But at the end of the day, he was quick to pick up the steps, memorizing which fertilizer to use for what plant, and how much water each plant needed.
The weeks quickly passed and you found a comfortable rhythm. You just had to put up with those terrible lines.
“Are you a flower bed?” Mattheo asked, his face streaked with dirt as he hauled another bag of soil.
“What is it this time?” You rolled your eyes. You found it impossibly adorable and ridiculous how he managed to get dirt all over his face despite wearing gloves and other gardening gear.
“Let’s pretend you asked me why. ‘Cause I want to lay you down and get dirty,” Mattheo said with his signature smirk.
You tried not to laugh, but you couldn’t wipe the silly grin off your face. Mattheo considered it a win. “That seriously works for you?” You pointed in his general direction. “I’d rather choke on a cactus,” you beamed.
Mattheo chuckled, “then I want to be a cactus.”
“Oh why, because you’re a prick?” You retorted, shoveling more soil to the new pot.
“No, you can’t use these lines against me,” he said, narrowing his eyes, grabbing a handful of soil.
“Don’t be such a weeping willow about it,” you quipped. “And I swear if you throw that lump of soil, you’ll have to clean it up.”
“Why don’t we go straight to the cleaning part?” He teased instead, returning the soil. He grabbed the water hose nearby and turned it on, aiming it directly at you.
Before you could react, you felt a steady stream of water hit you, the cold shocking your entire system. “You really did it,” you muttered uselessly, releasing a string of curses as you gathered your wits about you.
You ran after him, but he was quick to deflect, running off the opposite direction, taking the hose with him. Five steps in, you slipped on the mud and landed on your back. The wind rushed out your lungs and you laid there recovering your breath.
“Salazar! Are you ok?” He asked, running towards you.
“Come here,” you spoke softly and he leaned in to hear you.
“My name is not Salazar,” you declared when he was close enough. “It’s an expressio—“ he tried to explain but in one swift motion, you grabbed the collar of his shirt. The surprise was enough to send him down the floor. He slipped in the mud and joined you. You grabbed the hose from him and sprayed him with water.
He flailed for a few seconds before he caught purchase and rolled over you, yanking the hose away and then switching it off. You both found yourselves in hysterics, bodies shaking from the cold and laughter.
“I can’t believe it. You really laid me down and got me dirty,” you managed to say in between laughter.
“This is not what I meant. But if you want to know what I mean,” he said, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. But he was rendered speechless, the words and laughter faded in his throat.
He didn’t think it was possible. But up close, you were even more beautiful with your captivating eyes and kissable lips.
His intense gaze stole the laughter and breath from your lungs. You felt his heartbeat drum against yours, your breaths mingled with one another.
It sunk in then that he was on top of you, gazing at you like he wanted to do a hundred and one sinful things to you. He had a forest full of desires and you wanted to explore every corner of it. To go on an adventure with him. So you did.
You weren’t sure who started it, but the next second you found yourselves kissing each other. It was better than any euphoria plants could induce. His lips felt surprisingly soft and he started off tentative, seeing if you were okay with it. You just needed more and he quickly matched your pace, taking in as much of you as he could.
He was no longer gentle and he ran his hand through your mud streaked hair, holding you just where he needed you, deepening the kiss. You tugged on his hair in return and he rewarded you with a groan, his chest rumbling against you. He licked your lower lip, prompting you to open your mouth as his tongue darted in, exploring until you both needed to come up for air. Panting against each other.
“Why are you looking at me like I just kicked a puppy?” He asked.
You shook your head. “You’re just a boy trying to get through detention,” you stated.
“Darling, my detention was only a week long,” he admitted.
Your eyes widened. “But this is your third week helping me.”
“You still haven’t taught me how to make fire with flowers yet,” he said, kissing you on the nose.
“You’re not afraid I’d poison you?” You narrowed your eyes, recalling your threat.
“I looked it up. The nightshade you mentioned that first week isn’t even poisonous. You never meant to poison me, dear.”
“But you fell for it, that’s what mattered,” you insisted.
“Maybe it’s you I’ve pollen for,” he quipped.
“You’re never gonna stop with the plant puns, aren’t you?”
“No, because you’re ivy and you’ve fully crept in my thoughts. Next, you can creep in my—” you kissed him then to shut him up. He didn’t seem to mind at all. You really had had enough of his silly plant puns, even though you couldn’t get enough of him.
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✿ Masterlist | Event Masterlist | Tea Party
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livinginshambles · 11 months
Text
I thought you'd be different | James Potter
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Pairing: James Potter x Slytherin!Fem!Reader
Word Count: 4.6k
Summary: A cinderella story (maybe a little romeo and juliet while we're at it) but Hogwarts - Enemies-ish to lovers. You find an enchanted parchment through wich you anonymously talk to a stranger (James). When you meet him at the Yule ball, he is not who you expected, but you give him a chance. When you realise that was clearly a mistake, you flee cinderella style.
Probably part one of two again.
Notes: Not proofread, grammar mistakes. Discrimination issues, themes of bullying. Regulus is our friend. James is an idiot, but we knew that already. Sirius sucks.
Masterlist. Part two. Part three
--------------------------------
You could still remember the moment vividly, as if it was engraved in your memory. That moment when the sorting hat placed you in Slytherin instead of Gryffindor like your two older sisters had been sorted. You could still see the look of surprise, concern, horror and then eventually disgust, every time you close your eyes.
“Now we finally know your true colors,” is what your sister Alyssa had hissed coldly at you. You had pleadingly looked at your other sister, but Marla had supported her twin sister, disregarding the confused and scared look in your eleven-year-old eyes.
“Don’t talk to us, don’t look at us and don’t mention us at all,” she sneered down at you and for a moment you wondered how she hadn’t been the one to be sorted into Slytherin instead. But you had cast your eyes down and agreed.
But years passed and you had become the very stereotype of a Slytherin student, completely leaning into the cold, distant, quiet but calculating persona that your sisters had created for you. Might as well, you figured after your parent’s dismay at the revelation of your house.
You were making your way down the corridor, long strides as you passed your sisters while looking them straight in the eye. They grimaced at the sight of you, but without their entire group of classmates, they didn’t dare make any comments. A feeling of victory erupted inside of you, and you couldn’t help the small smirk that crept up your face.
“What poor soul suffered for you to look so satisfied?” You turned your head to look at the person who called out to you. James Potter and Sirius Black were both leaning against a statue in the open yard. “Did you get rid of Regulus or something?” Sirius taunted. “Finally had enough of him following you around, did you L/N?”
“Go die in a ditch, Sirius,” you retorted with an eye roll, but seemed unphased.
“Why so much hostility,” James unpleasantly remarked, and you halted in your step. “10 points from Gryffindor for loitering,” you pettily decided.
“If you have nothing to do, other than insulting students, I would love to recommend you to Professor McGonagall for detention. Heard she was still looking for the person who made all the pumpkins explode last week during Halloween, and you guys are terrible at getting rid of the evidence.” With a last glance up and down, you continued your way towards the room of requirement.
When you entered the sober room with a sigh, you noticed the small scrolled up piece of parchment in the middle of the room. You frowned. This was your space. The room didn’t open this space for anyone else, you made it specifically as a safe haven.
You cautiously approached the parchment and rolled it open to reveal nothing. It was completely blank. You shrugged. If the room left this here, it was meant for you, and so you took a seat and started drawing on it.
James sat in an empty room, his invisibility cloak hiding him from plain sight as he pulled the now folded paper from his back pocket. He inspected it closely, almost pressing the paper to his glasses in a curious manner. He had gone to the Room of Requirements earlier that day and found a piece of paper floating in the air.
James unfolded the paper, and his eyebrows flew up. Lines were appearing on the paper by itself, and a beautiful portrait of a weeping willow with a girl, crying on a bench under the tree appeared.
James fumbled to find his quill and ink. Then he started to write something on it, in a handwriting that he only ever used for written exams. Credits to Professor McGonagall, who had announced that she would not be grading anything she couldn’t read. And she had looked over her glasses at him while she said it.
It’s beautiful.
You dropped the parchment at the words that formed right under your drawing. You traced it with your fingers. Then you decided to write back.
Thank you, I’ve been dreaming about this for the past two days.
You frowned at yourself, unsure why you would disclose such information, but figured no one would be able to trace this back to you anyway.
James blinked at the response he got, mouth open in surprise. He wasn’t sure why he was so surprised. It must simply be a spell of some sort after all. He stared at the sad drawing and the sentence, and then he made up his mind, writing back.
It must be lonely for that girl to cry by herself under the weeping willow.
Your eyes followed the words that formed in a trance.
If she ever feels lonely again, she can always pour her heart out on this parchment. I’ll be the mighty guardian wizard that will make all her worries magically disappear.
A grateful smile made its way up your face and when you scribbled back a response, James couldn’t help but smile as well.
Maybe she will.
You doodled a wizard sitting on the bench next to the crying girl, a consoling hand stretched out.
That's how you became James’ best kept secret. He learned that you were indeed a student at Hogwarts, but that you felt lonely. That you enjoyed butterbeer, but never got to enjoy it on a Hogsmeade outing with friends, because you rarely had any. He learned that you felt inferior to your siblings and a disappointment to your parents. He noticed how you would draw a circle as the dot on your ‘i’ and learned, when he asked, that you did that because you had once seen Professor McGonagall do that when you were in your first year, and had practiced mimicking her handwriting, should it ever come in handy.
In return, he had told you that he felt pressured by the reputation that he had to maintain. He loved Quidditch and absolutely despised Ancient Runes, to which you had replied, “who doesn’t?”. He told you that he had illegally learned to become an Animagus, a stag, and that he wasn’t sure yet what the future would hold for him. He even revealed to you that he desperately wants to protect his friends and sometimes had nightmares, which usually resulted in a sneak around the castle at midnight. When you had asked him if he’d ever been caught, he responded with, “never”, and had explained to you that he had an invisibility cloak.
Two months passed and before you knew it, you were explaining Transfiguration through the enchanted parchment. You did conclude from this that your pen pal was most likely in a year or two higher than yourself but decided not to comment on it. James on the other hand, was under the assumption that you must be from his year, as you managed to help him study for his exams.
But now, it was almost 12 o’clock midnight, and James chewed his lip while he looked at the parchment. He hesitated for a moment. Then he decided to ask you the one question he had been yearning to know the answer to.
Who are you?
You looked at the paper sadly, and sighed.
You’d be disappointed.
I understand if you don’t want to reveal yourself. But know that I could never be disappointed by you, Willow.
James sighed when you didn’t answer anymore. He waved away the light that emitted from the tip of his wand and took his glasses off. He went to put the parchment under his pillow as usual, when he saw the scribbling movement that he’d gotten so accustomed to.
He scrambled to grab his wand to shed light on the paper but accidentally nudged them off the nightstand and onto the floor, where it rolled under his bed. James’ eyes flickered back to the paper in his hand, and he managed to catch the first letter of your name as it was written in capital letters.
But your cursive handwriting, the dark and lack of glasses made it impossible to read the rest of your name. When he finally reached his wand and put on his glasses, he heard the clock strike twelve and he cursed as he grasped the parchment tightly, hurried ‘lumos’ and saw that the parchment had reset itself to a blank page again, just as every night at 12 o’clock at midnight.
Wait, please! I didn’t catch it before it erased itself. Please write it again?
You let out a sigh in relief after you had internally bashed your head against a wall.
No, it was stupid of me. I’m glad you didn’t see it.
You leaned back into your armchair with a racing heart. You couldn’t believe you had done that.
“Regulus,” you acknowledged as you pulled the chair back to sit next to him in the library. “Y/N,” Regulus quietly responded without looking up from his book, and if you didn’t know any better, his straight face would indicate annoyance. Luckily, you did know better.
“You smile any brighter, the sorting hat will transfer you to Hufflepuff, you know,” you teased him.
His face distorted in a grimace and without missing a beat, he replied, “do kill me before such a thing occurs.” You shook your head and finally sat down. Then you pursed your lips in thought.
“You know how I’ve been working all summer to earn galleons?”
“No.”
“Well I did.”
“So it seems.”
“Anyway, I rented a small flat,” you blurted out. Regulus finally looked up at you, surprise almost evident on his face. Then again, you didn’t have the most amazing home situation either. You often opted to stay behind at Hogwarts for the holidays. It is how you two had befriended each other, especially ever since Sirius left him to his own devices at home. Parents, it was a trauma bonding thing.
“Congratulations,” he nodded, his voice trailed off as he tried to see how this would concern him.
“So I thought you might want to stay with me over the Christmas holidays? Your mother doesn’t hate me, so I thought it might be possible. Gives you a chance to get out once in a while.” You tentatively brought up the sensitive subject.
“And what makes you think living with you will be any more bearable than living in my own mansion?” Regulus snarkily remarked.
You squinted your eyes at him in a scowl. “A simple ‘no’ would suffice don’t you think?”
“Do I have to pay rent?”
“Depends on whether or not the answer impacts your decision.”
“So not then.”
You huffed.
“Fine, I suppose I could join you in your small flat.”
“Merlin, don’t go doing me any favors Reg, I wouldn’t want to owe you.”
Regulus shook his head in amusement.
Satisfied with your rather successful attempt to invite him over, you got up. The chair you sat on screeched loudly as it was being pushed back. You could feel the librarian’s furious eyes on your back and rolled your eyes at her as you made your way to the door. “Alright, alright, I’m leaving,” you waved your hand in the air and exited the room.
You made it approximately two steps when you spotted your sisters again. “Of course you would cause a disturbance in the library,” Marla spat at you. You raised your eyebrows but remained unimpressed.
“I see you’ve got your buddies to back you up now?” you commented and tilted your chin slightly upwards. Your eyes flickered to your other sister, their closest friends, and the marauders.
For a moment, you considered walking away, but there was just something about that twitching lip of your sister that had you irked.
You stepped forward, narrowing the gap between you and your sister. You leaned in slightly and then, “Boo.”
It took your other sister, Alyssa about one second to have her wand pulled out and pointed at your throat.
James watched the interaction with a small frown on his face. He didn’t really speak with the fellow Gryffindor twins, but their friends and Lily were friends, so the marauders had joined them on their way towards the courtyard.
His mind flickered to a conversation he had had with ‘Willow’ about her sisters, and he wondered if you felt the same sadness and inferiority as his pen pal. And with that in mind, he pulled Alyssa back by her robe with one harm, the other lowering her raised wand.
“Let’s not,” he shrugged, when she raised her brows in question at him.
“She clearly threatened my sister,” Alyssa defended.
You scoffed at that. “I said ‘boo’. That’s hardly a threat,” you rolled your eyes and glanced at James who tried to offer you something that resembled a smile.
Was he mocking you? “Fancy yourself a hero, don’t you, Potter.”
“Hey, I was just trying to help,” he raised his hands in defense.
“Cause you’re such a good soul,” you sarcastically remarked.
“Yeah, actually. At least better than you. That hostility is so uncalled for,” Sirius mumbled under his breath, and you shot him a glare. “Right, better than me. Let me ask the two-dozen tormented Slytherin students you’ve bullied this past year. Bet Snape will buy your self-proclaimed ‘kindness’.”
You were already walking away when Sirius opened his mouth to call something out to you, but James kicked his shins in attempt to shut him up. Your words resonated in his mind.
Maybe he was a twat.
Am I a twat?
What the bloody hell are you on about?
Someone called me a twat today. Now that wasn’t necessarily true, but the implications were there.
Did you deserve it?
Sort of.
Sort of?
I mean, I am only an asshole to people who are assholes themselves and deserve it. But I guess that makes me an asshole too.
You hesitated for a moment and decided to write your opinion on the matter.
Maybe you being an asshole to people makes them assholes. And then it becomes a vicious circle. Self-fulfilling prophecy and all that bogger.
You reckon?
Wouldn’t have written it down if I didn’t.
On a brighter note, do you have a date for the Yule ball after the exams?
If you’re asking me out, I already promised my friend that we’d go together.
Oh right. But would you save me a dance? Maybe at midnight under the main crystal chandelier?
James bit his lip again in suspense. The Yule ball is a masked ball anyways, if you don’t want to reveal yourself.
Midnight, main crystal chandelier. You decided to leave it at that. Besides. You could enchant the mask a little extra, so you’d be even more unrecognizable. You wondered who would be behind the kind words of the parchment.
It felt strange to you. Really looking forward to something to the point you could feel jitters in your stomach in anticipation. But it was having a certain effect on you that even the younger Black couldn’t help but miss.
Regulus squinted his eyes and moved his jaw in thought. When he had had enough, he pulled you aside.
“Out with it.”
You deflated. You knew that he knew what he was talking about, so you shrugged. “Someone asked me to save a dance next week,” you mumbled.
“And you want to?” Regulus’ tone shifted to an incredulous one.
“I found an enchanted parchment in the room of requirements and it’s connected. I’ve been using it to have conversations with a mystery person.”
It felt great to be able to share this with your friend and you leaned against the wall behind you. “So yeah.” You finished the confession with an awkward hand gesture.
Regulus took a moment to register what you said. And then, as if it was the most normal thing ever, he responded with, “I see. And you have no idea who?”
You let yourself slide down the wall and tiredly put your head on your propped up knees. “Probably a Gryffindor.”
Regulus started laughing. You snapped your head up and scowled at him, not that he was used to anything else from you.
“As long as it’s not a mudbl-“
You kicked his legs and made him lose his balance. You shot him a warning glance. “You know my opinion on that.”
Regulus sighed. You had once confided in him about your home situation, including that time when you had overheard your parents argue when you came home for the first time after having been sorted into Slytherin. Your father had addressed the matter as soon as you walked through the door.
“You’re no daughter of mine.” He had said with disapproval in his voice. It wasn’t meant as a figurative insult. It was a statement. Your father believed that you could simply not biologically be his daughter. The words had you avert your eyes to the floor in shame.
“My entire bloodline has been sorted into Gryffindor.” He had looked at your mother. “Your family does have Slytherins. She’s most likely the result of your affair with that muggle a decade ago. It is possible.” And just like that, he had practically disowned you.
“Okay,” Regulus relented. “We’ll see who it is next week.”
James was nervously looking around, standing partnerless in the middle of the dancefloor. He had long forgone the mask that he had chosen because it prevented him from using his glasses. He looked at the great clock just above the table with drinks and pulled a hand through his hair.
It was time, so where were you? Hopefully you hadn’t chickened out yet because he was absolutely dying to meet you.
There was just something about you. It sparked something in him that he hadn’t felt since Lily. He’d look forward to your messages all the time. Every morning, he practically jumped up in anticipation and excitement as he reached under his pillow to read your ‘good morning’ message for the day. A smile would pass his lips each time.
James was ripped from his thoughts when a hand was placed on his shoulder blade. It tapped twice. He stopped breathing for a moment before turning around. And then the breath was knocked out of both of you completely.
For two different reasons.
James stared in awe at you. You wore a white and silver dress, covered in diamonds. A delicate white mask covered the upper part of your face, and he stared intently at your eyes, but somehow, he still couldn’t pinpoint who you were.
He could see all of your features clearly, but as if he was in a dream, he somehow couldn’t piece everything together to identify you. A charm, he realized. He was disappointed but shook it off. If you felt insecure, then he wouldn’t push it.
James’ face broke out in a grin, and he stepped forward. He couldn’t help but reach out to your face. But you took a step back. His hand fell and he frowned at your reaction, suddenly scared. He wasn’t wearing a mask after all. Compared to you, he was completely vulnerable.
Before he could say anything, you cut him to it. “No,” you hoarsely managed. “This was a mistake.” You turned around and escaped from the center of the dancefloor. James chased you.
“Wait, please. I’m sorry!” He called out after you.
You slowed your pace when you reached the corner next to the staircase. Then you shook your head with a sight, and you pinched your nose. James could see your furrowed brows.
“You have nothing to be sorry about. But my intention wasn’t to dance with James Potter. It was a mistake. Sorry for wasting your time.”
James shook his head in his turn. “Don’t say that,” his eyes pleaded. “So you know who I am. Am I..” He hesitated. “Am I that bad? I don’t know if you’ve heard any rumors about me, or what made you have a bad impression of me, but I’m the one you’ve been talking to for the past months.” He looked at you desperately. “Give me a chance, please. I only ask for a dance.”
Your eyes flickered over his sad face. You knew James from all the pranks that he did, mostly committed towards your house. You knew him from the banters you had with him, and from crying students that you undid hexes for. You knew him from pushing him out of the way as he purposely blocked your path to throw insults at you.
But you also knew the boy from the enchanted paper. The one who listened to all your worries. Who offered advice and indulged into your hopes and dreams for the future. You knew the boy who confided in you all his deepest secrets and own insecurities. Who made your day and cheered you up with his jokes and positivity.
“I can give you a dance,” you caved, and you offered him your hand, which he scrambled to hold.
James was a fairly decent dance partner, you soon discovered as he guided you with grace. “So I suppose you dance often?”
“I just practiced a lot,” he sheepishly admitted. “I had to impress you somehow, you know. Someone like you had to be crazy out of my league after all.”
Your lips twitched. “I think you’ve got it all backwards, Potter.”
“You know you can call me James, right?”
“Well, James,” you enunciated his name. It felt weird on your tongue. You had only ever spoken his last name in contempt. “I’m not very liked by more than half the students of this castle.” You motioned towards your mask. “Hence the enchantment,” you added halfheartedly.
“You don’t have to tell me who you are,” James immediately assured you, and you did relax at his words. “I’m just really happy that you’re real.”
You let out a laugh. “Why would I not be real?”
“I don’t know,” James whined. “Maybe I was just talking to really sentient paper or something?”
His answer only made you laugh more. James’ grin only spread wider.
“Whoever you are, I wouldn’t judge you,” James added quietly. You watched him silently as you swayed around the room.
“That’d be a first,” you joked sadly, remembering your own family.
“What can I say, I’m just different,” James cheekily winked and then twirled you around.
“We’ll see about that, James. You have the rest of the night to convince me.”
The dance ended and you curtsied to each other, out of breath. “But you’ll have to excuse me while I go find a bench because my feet are killing me. These heels are no joke,” you groaned in pain and sort of started to limp your way back.
James quickly came to support you and held your waist as he escorted you back to the side of the room. When you discovered that there were not in fact any benches, you sat down on the first few steps of the staircase. He raised his eyebrows when you kicked off your heels and saw that the entire slipper was made of glass.
“I transfigured those shoes myself, you know,” you proudly stated. James looked at it in disbelief. “This can carry a human weight?”
“Yeah, it took a lot of different enchantments and attempts,” you admitted.
James’ disbelief changed to awe. He took a seat next to you and you two started chatting about random things. You looked at James’ profile as he talked about Quidditch and felt soft towards him. Maybe he really wasn’t so bad after all.
The two of you were deep into a conversation when you were interrupted .
“Who is this, Prongs?” Sirius curiously stepped forward and shook your hand. You couldn’t help but grimace at him.
You politely nodded and explained the situation, but even though you engaged into a civil, nonchalant conversation, you couldn’t help but feel uncomfortable at the presence of James’ friends.
“Anyways,” Sirius leans in towards James. “Did you see Snape over there?” He nodded his head towards Snape, and you squinted your eyes at the boy in front of you.
“You’re not thinking of doing anything to him, are you,” you sharply asked. Both James and Sirius were taken aback by your new tone.
“Nothing harmful,” Sirius laughed, but it faded when you simply raised your eyebrows at him. Sirius looked towards James for help. James hesitated. He had been reluctant to indulge Sirius’ ideas ever since his conversation with you about being a twat. But Sirius was his friend.
“We’re just having a bit of fun,” James tried to explain. “We’re just joking around, besides, he’s in Slytherin, so definitely a blood supremacist.” Your face fell at his words.
You watched his features contort in disgust and suddenly you were eleven again, and all you could see was your sisters disgusted face.
By the time you had snapped out of it, Sirius was already making his way towards Snape. James had gotten up and his head flickered between you and his friend.
You got up as well.
“I really thought you’d be different, James.” You scoffed to yourself. “You really had me convinced there for a moment. But I understand that you’re really just a bully after all, blinded by prejudice. You really are a twat.”
James’ heart dropped at hearing you say those words. He felt ashamed and shook his head pleadingly as he searched for words. But the thing is, you couldn’t care less, because you were hurt too. So you turned around and fled up the stairs as fast as you could, just in case he would come after you.
“Hey Prongs, you coming or not?” Sirius called out. James looked back at Sirius as he contemplated his next move. He mouthed ‘no’, and then tried to run after you. But by the time he reached the hallway that you had disappeared to, you were nowhere in sight.
In denial, James ran towards the moving staircases and looked up, in hopes to find you there.
Had he looked down, maybe he would have caught the last shimmer of reflection of the diamonds on your dress.
James refused to give up, however and he started to knock on the paintings, hoping that they could tell him where you went. He just had to apologize.
A symphony of protests and yelling echoed within the hall. “Quiet you!” “Have you no respect for the sleeping?” “I will complain to Filch about this, young man!” “Leave us alone!”
When the voices resided, most portraits were empty, their contents having escaped elsewhere.
Defeated, James groaned and hit his head with his fists. “You stupid git!” he yelled out in frustration at himself. James slouched down to sit on the stairs. Then he reached for the parchment and a pen in the inner pocket of his jacket and started scrambling something down.
“Please answer,” he whispered. He almost had to laugh at how pathetic he must look.
You sat on your bed after having made your way to the Slytherin dorms.
I’m sorry. You’re right, I shouldn’t have said that. I don’t know why I said that. I’m stupid and I ruined everything. Please let me make it up to you. I enjoy being with you, I don’t want you to think of me like this.
 Like I said before, this was clearly a mistake.
James read your words over and over again and he buried his face in his hands in shame. He stayed there for a long while and by the time he returned to the room, the party was over, and people had started returning to bed. On the left side of the staircase were your enchanted glass slippers precisely where you’d kicked the off and left them.
Preview of part two
Part two
Taglist:
@bath1lda @lilianelena39 @quackitysdrugdealer @princessprongs @clumsyassbitch @thecraziestcrayon @themoonofeternity @ttkttt @rentaldarling @handybrownpurse @elsie-bells
@charlie-weasley-is-underrated @dreamingofmarauders @moonyslibrary98 @wildernessflora @hollandweather @queerqueenlynn @locklyebrainrot @thisrandombitch @grac3aph3lion @earfquak3 @venomsvl @middle-of-the-earth @shrekscrustybudassy @bettytaylorversion @littlepoisonmushroom @faumpje @iloveutwice @katelebate @moonysupremacy01 @marina468 @fangirl-kimora @bellesowl @badasswlthafatass @sjprongs @armydrcamers @its-a-ittle-bit-cold @ireallywannasleep127 @sayukoi @jsjcue @cashtons-wife @idllyastuff @severegiantjudgefriend @ivy-34 @moonyunebi @caspianobsessed @kquil @moonys-luvr @mindflay3r @nokkoongie
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transmunsons · 10 months
Text
Eddie teaches Steve how to fight. The Munson name might be good for nothing but they were a scrappy lot. Eddie learned early how to throw a punch. His dad said real boys knew how to fight, so put your whole body into it, twist your hips.
Eddie had heard King Steve got his face beat in by the Byers kid. Also heard he might’ve deserved it. And that Byers got off with hardly a scratch. But none of that was his business. He was just trying to graduate.
The second time Steve showed up to school with a face full of bandages, he took pity on him. This time he’d apparently gotten into a fight with that mouthy new kid, the one who gave Jeff the heebie jeebies. They ended up in detention together and Eddie leaned into his space and asked some questions, like “how come you get beat up more than my ducklings?”
Apparently the pretty rich boy had never learned how to defend himself, never needed to. What a waste of muscles. Which is how Eddie ended up giving Steve a lesson in the middle of Ms. Pratt’s room. Keep your fists up, turn your body so you’re a smaller target, shift your weight to your toes, and if you need to: scream.
“What?” Steve lowered his hands, bewildered.
“Yeah, man, just scream.” Eddie said. “At the worst, it’ll give you a second while they’re confused and at best they’ll think you’re nuts and disengage entirely. It’s a win-win scenario.” He shrugged.
“Is that how you fight?” Steve asked.
“I don’t know if you’ve noticed my reputation around here, Harrington, but half the school wouldn’t touch me with a rainbow colored pole and the other half thinks I’m straight up insane. No one’s gonna fight a crazy person, ‘cause crazy people might just kill ya.”
“Thanks for the advice.” Steve remarked. He packed up the singular sheet of homework he’d tried to do.
“No problem, that face is too pretty to be marked up all the time.”
But Steve couldn’t stay out of trouble for long.
Eddie was trying to see if the new mall theater was as easy to sneak into as the Hawk when he passed by some teens in sailor costumes slumped by a water fountain. One of them pointed at him as he walked by.
“Munson! It worked!”
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darnell-la · 26 days
Note
Darkceo!logan and employer!fem-reader when he's using his power to control her fully as employer and plaything💯
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pairing: dark!boss!logan howlett x employ!reader
warnings: controlling, unprofessional, threats, choking, hair pulling, sexual harassment, high power, forced creampie, rough sex, marking, baby trapping, etc.
note: I’ll be Logan’s slut coworker anytime.
follow our Instagram @ darnell.la so we can start posting random videos, photos, edits, and memes of the people we write about!
———
“Logan, I can’t stay after hours to help the kids in detention. I’ve got work to do myself,” y/n said after the man called her in his office. This was his third time within a week, making her stay back.
“Well, I’ve got paperwork, and need someone to watch the kids when I’m not looking,” the man fixed his glasses before looking back at the computer he was typing on.
“You’re in the same room as them — I’m sure they’re not gonna up and leave,” y/n tried convincing the man to let her go, but that wasn’t happening, just like the other nights.
“When I tell something once, I expect you to listen, y/n. Don’t make me tell you again,” the man had looked up at the girl.
Y/n stood in the middle of the man’s office, wanting to fight for some kind of break, but last time he had scared her into staying.
“Yes, sir,” the young lady said before turning around and walking off. She could see the smirk on the older man after her sentence. He owned her, and she had no one to go to and tell.
“Y/n, stay back — We need to talk,” Logan said after y/n dismissed detention for the kids. Some laughed as others ran out, ready to do whatever teenage mutants did at this time of night.
“Mister Howlett, I really need to get to my own work-“ she tried saying. “Don’t start,” the man cut her off at the end of her sentence. The way he always looked over his glasses, made her shut up in an instant.
The class was finally empty. Logan stood outside of the door, waiting for all of his students to leave before closing and locking his classroom door.
“You’re the best teacher I’ve got, y/n, but your attitude — It ain’t pretty,” Logan finally turned around, eyes burning into hers. She didn’t want to get fired. She’s done everything he’s asked, but she could feel something coming.
“Ima need you to work after hours right here with me. Confused it a mild punishment for your recent behaviors,” he said, confusing the girls.
“Mister Howlett, I’ve donen’t everything you’ve asked me to for days. If I don’t get my own work done, I can fall behind. The stress isn’t good for teaching,” she tried telling the man.
Logan walked toward the girl, letting her talk for once until he stood right before her.
“I know you love this job, y/n, but you will lose it if you don’t obey me,” the man said. Obey? “Logan, this isn’t some kind of joke. I can’t be around you all day and night for no reason. I have papers myself,” y/n tried standing her ground, but it was hard. His gaze intimidated her.
“Then take ‘em down here for now on. Don’t argue with me anymore,” the man looked down at her as she rolled her eyes. He didn’t like that.
“Look-“ Logan said as his hand raised, gripping the girl's neck out of nowhere. “I don’t know who the fuck told you, you can act a certain way towards me — But I’d advise you to cut that shit out,” he said.
When the girl didn’t give a response and just looked up at the man, he dragged her until her body was pinned against the cold thick wooden walls.
“You think I’m a joke, Bub? I’ll fire you right now. I don’t give a fuck how important you are to my school. I’ll fire you and throw you out tonight,” the man threatened as his body pressed against her.
“So as I said, cut the fuckin’ attitude, before I do it for you,” another threat was made. “You can’t just-“ y/n tried saying. “I can’t just what? Hm!?” Gripped her neck tighter, waiting for her to tell him what he couldn’t do with her.
“Y-You can’t just do this, Logan. I have a job to do, just like you, and you’re getting in my way. Y-You’re distracting me,” she finally said.
She had been trying to tell the man for weeks now, but every time, he’d threaten the woman’s job. It was unprofessional of him shaking up in her room one night, and telling her she needed to come to her rooms at times and work. She didn’t know what the man's problem was, and she was scared to ask.
“Oh, I’m distracting?” He asked in a low voice which slightly came out as a growl. He couldn’t help but smirk and scan the young lady. She looked so good like this.
“Maybe I am too — Those lips aren’t very easy to ignore,” he said, face coming close to hers. Once his hot breath hit her skin, her heart dropped and reality hit her. This man has been hitting on her…
“M-Mister Howlett,” the girl spoke, earning a groan from the man. “Yes, princes?” He asked as one knee moved in between her leg, pushing until he grazed her clothes folds.
Y/n regretted listening to the man when he demanded her to look more professional by wearing skirts and dressed to teach.
“T-This is unprofessional,” she said, instantly making the man laugh as he tilted his head back. “God, you’re so fuckin’ dumb. Lucky me, I like ‘em that way,” the man said before he slowly leaned at her neck.
The young girl whined softly, her heart rate raising as her boss sucked on her neck. “L-Logan,” she pushed at his shoulders softly, but what would that do? He was stronger and wanted this.
The man growled in her neck, loving the way his name rolled from her tongue. “L-Logan, stop this,” y/n pushed harder at the man’s shoulders, but all he did was laugh at her skin.
Y/n’s eyes filled with tears as she noticed her cunt throb on his thigh. She was growing wet as well, and she knew he knew that.
After Logan realized how much she was leaking, he pulled her off of the wall by her hair, pulling her over to his desk. “Be a good coworker, and spread for me,” the man pushed her down onto his desk, almost breaking it.
“Ow, Logan,” the girl whined. He loved how venerable she was. The girl wasn’t a mutant, so she knew he was too strong for her. He loved the power he had over her as a mutant and boss.
Y/n repeatedly begged the man to let her go, telling him she’d do whatever he wanted from now on with no attitude, but all he said was “Ima get that anyway,”.
Logan pulled the girl's tight dress up, eyes filling with darkness as he saw her wet spot. “Fuckin’ slut got wet on the job,” the spat before ripping them off clean.
“P-Please, Logan,” y/n begged again, legs already shaking from the fear in her body. She’s never been with a mutant, and having her boss be the first, isn’t professional of her. She can’t do this.
“Don’t worry, Bub — Gonna fill this cunt right up. Give her what she needs,” he made up his own thoughts on what y/n wanted as he pulled himself out, stroking until he felt pre cum leak from his tip.
Logan knew the young lady wasn’t on birth control. He made her sign work papers, having that down as one of the questions. She didn’t think of it at first because she just wanted a job. A normal job, but now she knows it’s not so normal.
Logan forcefully pushed at the girl's entrance, making her grip his table. He was huge, and he hadn’t even filled her to the brim yet.
“L-Logan, please!” She begged as tears slipped from her eyes. The man groaned as he slipped into her walls, feeling the instant warmth and grip. “Fuck,” he couldn’t keep in. He’s been waiting on this for a while.
L-Logan,” the girl's cracked voice filled the room as he pushed all the way into her. She felt full. She felt pain. She felt pleasure. He knew she liked this deep down.
“Ah huh, baby — You like it?” He asked as he slowly pulled back before pushing back in. Y/n’s body went stiff at the length he was. He was too deep, and he loved it.
“T-Too much, Logan,” she cried low, gripping his desk harder. “I know, Bub, but whose fault was that for not being nicer to me? I would’ve trained you with my fingers, but you’ve been pissin’ me off lately,” Logan leaned over y/n, rubbing at her cheeks.
“Got me so fuckin’ angry, but all I could think about if fuckin’ it out. All out, into you,” the snap on his hips made the girl yelp. “So, you’re gonna lay here, and fuckin’ take it — professionally,”
Logan couldn’t help himself. He tugged on the girl's hair and gripped the side of her waist, pulling her into every hard thrust he could give. He knew the screws on the table were loosening, but he’ll fix it later.
“Can’t walk around here this tight and think I don’t want a taste, baby. Gonna be havin’ this cunt whenever I want, and however I want from now on,”
Y/n’s cunt was finally stretched and wet, good enough for Logan to slip into her with ease, but still rough enough to punish her. He neared to use the power he had over her, and he was.
“For now on, you’re in my room. Don’t need you unsupervised when you’re this tight,” the sounds of y/n’s juice filled the room as he talked. She couldn’t control her system. She was leaking worse than before. “And leave the panties alone. Need ease access in what’s mine,”
The girl's cunt throbbed at his words, not knowing why, but she knew she was fucked. If she tried telling anyone she didn’t want this after knowing the knot in her stomach getting harder to hold, they’d laugh in her face.
“Petty girls gonna cum, hm? Well, that ain’t so professional of you, ain’t it? Tellin’ me how unprofessional I am, but you’re about to cum on my jeans like the whore of the night,”
Y/n tried holding herself back, angry that he read her like a book, but she soon failed. She came all over his lower body, making the sounds of his thrust louder and more sloppy.
“That’s it, baby — Cum in my cock, and I might give you a raise,” he chuckled as he felt himself eat close. Y/n felt horrible. She clenched around the man after he mentioned a raise. That could only mean she was fine with this, as long as she got paid.
“Gonna have to save after the baby forms in your stomach. Can’t have my pretty girl workin’ too hard,” a whine left the girl's mouth. A very sexual moan that made him know she wanted this. Deep down, she couldn’t hide it. She couldn’t hide how good he was fucking the life out of her.
“That’s it, baby — Keep moaning like that, and Ima put a village in this sweet cunt,” the man said between his teeth, now slamming into her. His thrust was brutal, knowing the wind and trapped moans from her mouth any time his pelvis slapped her ass.
“Fuck, yes, baby. Grip me — Grip me and show me you want it,” the man's cock twitched in her walls, warning her, he was close. Before he could say another teasing sentence, he was cut off by his groans as he filled the girl up.
He spilled in her for what felt like hours, pushing his cock deeper into her cunt to make sure one of them would be a winner.
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wordsarelife · 7 months
Text
—starlight
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pairing: soft!mattheo riddle x fem!reader
summary: mattheo had been liking you for years and when you loose your cat, it's finally his time to prove how good of a boyfriend he would be
warnings: really small mention of a loved one dying
notes: y/n is a bit luna lovegood coded
the morning was hotter than the days before, even though it was slowly becoming fall. mattheo and his friends had decided to stay inside for the first time in weeks and were now sitting in the Iibrary, busy understanding their potions homework.
"so" enzo mumbled, the words a bit harder to recognize, because he had the tip of his quill between his lips "what is the answer to number eight?"
"if i tell you, you won't learn anything" theo, the only one who was really understanding the task at hand, groaned.
"yeah, but we would stop wasting our time" mattheo mumbled just silent enough so theo wouldn't hear. blaise, who sat next to him, laughed.
"come on, mate" draco started pleading "you know i normally get these, but it's so hot outside, i'd rather swim in the lake"
"well, you have to earn that first" theo was not budging under the pleading of his friends. blaise, draco, enzo and mattheo groaned simultaneously
"where is pansy? shouldn't she sit here with us and be annoyed at you?" blaise asked, while his eyes wandered to the empty spot next to draco, that was normally occupied by the girl.
"she's got detention with mcgonagall, i'm copying the answers for her" draco answered
"well, now that's unfair" mattheo shook his head "why don't you say anything about that, theo?"
it seemed like theo hadn't even listened to what his friends were talking about. he was busy reading the next number and looked up confused. "what?"
"forget it" mattheo hid his face in his hands, while blaise and enzo exchanged a look, rolling their eyes
"woah" blaise suddenly made next to him "isn't that y/n?"
mattheos head turned, so did the rest of his friend's.
it was indeed you. the slytherins watched in confusion how you climbed the ladder leaning against the shelf. their confusion only grew when you didn't stop climbing at the highest shelf, but used your arms to pull you up on top of the shelf.
"what is she doing?" enzo mumbled
“i have no clue” mattheo watched you closely, following your every move.
he had been kind of in love with you since the third grade. his friends found his crush on you quite interesting, considering you were a bit curious and weird, but somehow all of them agreed that it was in a cute way, a bit too stubborn, a bit too much in your own world.
maybe the carelessness and constant happy mood you were spotted with only added to their confusion. mattheo wasn’t normally the guy to go for girls like you. and it was out of the ordinary to see him as nervous as he was around you. girls normally didn't make him nervous, but you did.
they all gasped simultaneously, as one of your hands hit the shelf a bit too far left and almost made you fall down.
“oh” you said, both at your close call and their presence, you had only noticed them now. “hi” you used the hand that had almost caused you to fall to wave at them
“hey, y/n!” theo raised his hand, copying your greeting, while his eyes were still fixated on the potions book on the table in front of him. he was the only one of his friends who was also friends with you, a result of your similar interest in astronomy.
mattheo watched you closely. he had stood up to catch you, in case there was another close call. him and the rest of his friends watched you as you crawled along the shelf.
“what are you doing?” enzo asked, louder than he had planned which resulted in madam pince shushing him. "sorry" enzo cringed, but it was already too late.
his voice had been so loud and sudden, that it had made you shriek. like mattheo had predicted, you lost your balance and fell down the shelf. luckily, he caught you before you could hit the ground.
“thanks” you smiled, patting his chest and climbing out of his arms.
mattheo was stunned at how relaxed you still were after almost falling to your death. well, maybe not death but you still could've gotten hurt really bad.
“i was looking for my cat” you smiled as if it was the most logical explanation, answering enzo’s question, without any hard feeling about him causing you to fall. “but she isn’t up there��
“ahh, alright” enzo nodded, acting like he understood what you were talking about, but he looked as lost as mattheo felt.
“see you later” you waved your hand at the boys before you turned around and left the library.
mattheo quickly grabbed his potions book, ready to follow you.
“what are you doing?” theo looked at him with narrowed eyes, almost sounding offended “we haven’t finished number nine yet”
“i was trying to..” mattheo trailed off, pointing at where you had last stood
“go” draco directed, pushing theo, who was ready to get up and discuss things with mattheo, back down in his seat.
blaise plastered a hand over theo’s mouth as he started protesting. mattheo nodded at his friends, silently thanking them, before he ran out of the library, hoping to still catch you.
to his luck, you had enough time on you to walk through the halls slowly.
“hey” mattheo breathed, matching your step “do you need help looking for your cat?”
“sure” you seemed happy enough about his suggestion “her name is starlight, but she doesn’t really answer to that, so there’s no point in calling her”
“okay” mattheo nodded “and she normally spends her time on top of the library shelves?”
“sometimes” you shrugged “she mostly spends her time all over the castle”
“do you often do things like that?”
“what?” you smiled “climb on top of shelves and let pretty boys catch me? not really, no” you shook your head laughing, while mattheo was still stuck on what you had described him as.
“how does starlight look like?” he tried a different approach as he followed you through the halls, almost sure you were heading to the astronomy tower.
“she’s a ginger cat”
“well, that’s explains a lot” mattheo laughed and you joined in “why doesn’t she answer to her name?”
“she belonged to my grandfather, she would only ever answer his calling, or react to his voice in general” you explained “he died a few months ago and my parents thought about giving her away, so she's now staying with me”
“that’s sad” mattheo frowned “i’m sorry about your loss”
“don’t be” you smiled up at him with big eyes and he almost missed a step on the way up. “he wasn’t the nicest, i don’t think he even liked anyone apart from his cat, but she’s nice enough most of the time”
“i get it” mattheo nodded understandingly “so where would she normally hide?” he looked around the room, trying to spot the orange fur of your cat. now that he thought about it, he remembered you chasing her around the halls a few times.
“you mind helping me up?” you pointed at the wooden beam over both of your heads
“seems like she prefers the higher spots, huh?” mattheo asked sarcastically, before he picked you up without another word of protest
you climbed on top of the beam, turning your head, before you finally shook it and mattheo helped you back down.
“where could she be if she isn’t here either?”
“i have one last spot in mind” you nodded, thinking “if she isn’t there, then i don’t know where she could still be”
“well, hopefully she is”
“as long as she’s fine” you smiled
mattheo followed you back down the steps of the tower, pending what he could still ask you. he wouldn’t waste any time he could spend with you, he would make the most of it.
his mind was racing, trying to come up with something, but the only thing he could remember was the list of thirty six questions blaise had shown him the day before, swearing that those were the best icebreakers at a first date.
well, this was far from a first date, but it did not hurt to try
“given the choice of anyone in the world, whom would you want as a dinner guest?” he muttered, recalling the first question.
your face lit up at his sudden question. “that’s a fun question” you smiled “let me think about it. does the person have to be alive?”
mattheo shook his head
“well then i would pick my grandmother, i think” you smiled, deep in thought “she was a great woman. i remember my grandfather being a decent person back when she was alive. she used to make these crocheted hats for me. i have them in almost every color”
“that sounds nice” mattheo smiled as he noticed how your features lit up while talking about your grandma. he followed you into the great hall, not even questioning it.
“what about you?” you asked him, taking a quick turn and walking up the steps around the wall of the entryway.
“what about me?” mattheo repeated confused
“yeah” you laughed at his forgetfulness “who would you have dinner with?”
“i don’t know” mattheo shrugged
“i don’t accept that answer” you shook your head “i can't believe that no one comes to mind at that”
there was someone coming to mattheo’s mind. but he couldn’t tell you. right now, he only wanted to have dinner with one person and that person was you, and maybe your cat, because not finding her would probably mean that you would be sad otherwise.
“merlin” mattheo answered quickly and you raised your eyebrows
“fan?”
“the biggest” mattheo grinned and cringed the moment your eyes left his face. he was ready to turn around and run away, but your sudden calling kept him from it.
“starlight!” you laughed, holding out your arms and catching the orange cat that had been about to fall from the highest shelf.
“hey” mattheo cooed, softly stroking the cat’s head. the cat hissed at him and he quickly pulled his hand back.
“she likes you” you smiled brightly despite starlight proving the opposite.
“you really think so?” mattheo asked unsurely.
“of course” you were pulling the cat close to your chest “she’s smiling at you”
mattheo wasn’t so sure about that. starlight looked like she was ready to claw his eyes out if left unattended in the same room.
starlight settled on top of your shoulder as you began to walk back down the stairs. mattheo was ready to follow, but starlight hissed at him over you shoulder and it took him a second longer to catch up to you.
despite anything you had previously said, he was sure that that cat absolutely loved you, even if she often spend her time sleeping in the most ridiculous places and making you search for her. he was sure you loved her just as much, even you had so casually talked about the cat's situation he had noticed that you couldn't have endured your parents just giving her away. he had also noticed the worry in your eyes when stalright hadn't been in the astronomy tower.
additional to that, he was also sure she already hated him. maybe she could sense the inappropriate thoughts he sometimes had about you.
“thank you for your help” you had walked mattheo back to the doors of the library, after he had claimed that his friends would probably appreciate his return to finish the homework.
“no problem” he smiled and he had almost sighed at how pretty you were, just simply standing in front of him “i’d do anything” he mumbled under his breath.
“what?” you laughed, not having understood a sound of what he had mumbled. starlight was busy playing with a strand of your hair. mattheo had to smile at that and you mirrored his expression.
“doesn’t matter” mattheo shrugged and his smile grew brighter as he watched you laugh at him.
you softly held a hand in front of starlight's eyes, before you stood on your tiptoes, softly kissing mattheo's cheek. “thank you, maybe we could have dinner some day” you said, before you waved him a final goodbye “say goodbye starlight” the cat hissed at him once again and you smiled pleased, before you turned around and walked back in the direction of your dorm.
“i’d do anything” mattheo repeated his earlier words when you were far enough away. his cheeks were red and his hand touched the spot on which your lips had rested a few seconds ago. “anything”
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srslyblvck · 7 days
Text
a dare too far, james potter [ part I ]
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pairing: james potter x fem!reader
synopsis: james was dared to make you fall in love with him. unknown to him, he was falling for you too. But soon the truth comes out, and you are left heartbroken.
genre: angst
warnings: mentions of y/n, heartbreak
word count: 1k
part II
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ JAMES POTTER AND HIS friends, the infamous Marauders, were no strangers to trouble. Challenges, dares, and pranks fueled their Hogwarts days. This particular afternoon was no different as the four of them lounged on the couch in the Gryffindor common room.
"I dare you, Sirius, to go two whole weeks without getting detention," Remus said, a sly smile on his face.
Sirius scoffed, dramatically putting a hand over his heart. "Two weeks? You’re a sadist, Moony. But fine, I’ll take that bet."
Peter snickered. “It’ll be a miracle if you last even a day.”
With a smirk, Sirius turned toward James, mischief sparking in his eyes. “Alright, James. My turn. I dare you to… make her fall for you.”
James raised an eyebrow, confused. “Who?”
Sirius grinned wickedly and pointed in your direction, where you sat quietly in the corner of the common room, engrossed in a book. “Her. Y/N. The one who barely talks to anyone except her friends. The shy, sweet one. I dare you to make her fall for you.”
James followed Sirius’s gaze, frowning slightly. You were the girl who had always intrigued him—pretty, kind, and gentle, but mysterious in your quietness. You had rejected plenty of suitors over the years, always softly turning them down without ever coming off as harsh or rude. You weren’t one to make waves, yet people admired you for your kind heart.
Remus immediately sat up, his brow furrowed. “Hold on, Sirius. That’s not funny.”
“Yeah, Moony’s right,” Peter chimed in. “You can’t mess with her like that. It’s just… wrong.”
Sirius waved them off. “Oh, come on. It’s just a bit of fun.”
But Remus wasn’t laughing. “It’s playing with someone’s feelings.”
“James can handle it, can’t you, Prongs?” Sirius grinned, looking over at James.
James hesitated, glancing at you once more. The truth was, his heart still ached for Lily Evans, but she seemed as unreachable as ever. Maybe, just maybe, if he made you fall for him, it would make Lily jealous. Maybe she’d finally notice him.
With a shrug, James smirked. “Challenge accepted.”
Remus and Peter exchanged a look of disapproval, but Sirius clapped James on the back. “Atta boy.”
Over the next few weeks, James started finding ways to enter your life. It began with simple things—sitting near you in class, offering to carry your books, sharing small jokes, and asking you questions about yourself.
At first, you were surprised. James Potter, one of the most popular boys in school, was paying attention to you? You’d seen his confidence, his charm, and his easy smile, but you’d never been interested in boys like James. You preferred your quiet life, far away from the chaos that seemed to follow him and his friends.
But James… was persistent. And he wasn’t the show-off you thought he was. He was funny, thoughtful even, and when you talked to him, he made you feel like the only person in the room. Slowly, you found yourself opening up, and soon, you began looking forward to your time with him.
Your friends noticed the change. They teased you about the time you were spending with James, but they could see you were happy. You were falling for him, even though you had tried to keep your heart guarded.
What you didn’t realize was that James was falling too. Somewhere along the way, the dare had stopped being about a challenge, and it had become about you. The warmth of your smile, the way you listened to him, the gentle kindness you always showed—James found himself craving more time with you. Even Sirius, Remus, and Peter had come to adore you. You were, after all, impossible not to love.
One late afternoon, you decided to surprise James at the library, where you knew he often went to meet Remus. As you approached the table where they were sitting, you overheard their conversation.
“Mate, how long are you going to keep this up?” Remus asked, his voice tense. “It’s not fair to her. You’re playing with her feelings.”
Your heart froze. Her?
James shifted uncomfortably. “I—It wasn’t supposed to go this far.”
Sirius chuckled lightly. “Come on, Prongs. You’re doing her a favor. She’s having the time of her life.”
You took a step closer, straining to hear, feeling a knot form in your chest.
“But I didn’t mean for it to—” James started, but Sirius interrupted.
“You’ve done your job, mate. If it gets Lily jealous, then it’s all worth it, right?”
Your blood ran cold. The realization hit you like a wave crashing over rocks. The time spent with James, the laughter, the shared moments—it was all a lie. A dare.
You couldn’t breathe. Everything between you and James had been fake. He had never cared. He had only been using you to make someone else jealous.
Tears pricked the corners of your eyes as you stood there, frozen. You didn’t even realize James had spotted you until his voice cracked through the air.
“Y/N…”
You shook your head, your vision blurring with tears. The betrayal cut deeper than you could have imagined. You took a step back as James stood up, his hand outstretched.
“Please, Y/N, let me explain—”
But you couldn’t bear to hear it. You turned on your heel and fled, leaving James calling your name behind you.
James stood in the library, watching you leave, a sinking feeling in his chest. He wanted to chase after you, to explain, but how could he? The truth was out now, and he knew it. He had hurt you in the worst possible way.
For the first time in a long while, James Potter didn’t have the right words. He had lost you, and it was his own fault.
Sirius, Remus, and Peter sat in silence, the gravity of what had just happened settling heavily around them.
Remus sighed, his voice soft but firm. “I told you. You were playing with her heart.”
James slumped back into his chair, guilt gnawing at him. He didn’t care about the dare anymore. He didn’t care about making Lily jealous. All he cared about was the girl who had just walked out of his life—the girl he had fallen for without realizing it.
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hp-hcs · 6 months
Text
i didn’t realize the riddle brothers were a "buy one get one free" type of deal, but alright — simp! overprotective! yandere! riddle brothers x gn! oblivious! bullied! slytherin! reader
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requested by 🎀!
2.5k words, not to brag 😌
i love writing the bros’ interactions with each other as like, actual sibling-core yk? they r just so cutie patootie
the reader's patronus makes an appearance in this, but i tried to make it as accessible to everyone as possible, so it's never explicitly stated what animal it is. it is implied that it’s able-to-fit-under-a-table sized though
also this is totally just pre-slash nothing that interesting happens
warnings: couple mentions of blood, mild descriptions of wounds, implied violence, implied bullying, murder
not edited!! this is my first like, really long fic so constructive criticism is welcome!
•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
A well-timed shove to the small of your back sent you tumbling down an entire flight of moving stairs. 
You groaned as you hit the bottom, sprawled out on your back on the cold stone floor. You laid there for a moment, winded. You could hear the occupants of a nearby painting titter at your gracefulness (or lack thereof), so you rolled your head to the other side to give them an award winning smile and an unabashed middle finger. 
You could hear them all grumble about kids these days and how I never would’ve treated my elders this way. You just rolled your eyes at their pettiness. 
“Uh…what are you doing?” A decidedly alive voice interrupted your momentary satisfaction.
“Ah- evening, Riddle!” You said cheerily as soon as you recognized the speaker, scrambling to your feet and dusting off your uniform. “Nothing! Just…tripped. Couldn’t see very well in the dark, that’s all.”
Tom blinked, his lips twisted into a frown. “.....Fine. But don’t let me catch you out of bed past curfew again. You’re a Slytherin, for Salazar’s sake. Act like it.”
And that was it. Tom turned on his heel and continued down the hall without another word. Tom Riddle: prefect, teacher’s pet, and obnoxious hardass extraordinaire—he just...let you go, with no threats of detention or loss of house points. 
Huh. 
~~~
Tom, having just returned from a full night’s shift of prefect hall duty, flopped face-down onto his bed, his cheeks aflame as he let out a muffled shriek into his pillow. 
His brother, in the process of getting dressed for the day, paused at the scene in front of him. 
“Dude, what’s your deal?” 
“L/n,” Tom said by way of explanation, kicking his feet as he shrieked into his pillow again. “They acknowledged me. And they know my last name.”
“Most people know our last name, Tom,” Mattheo rolled his eyes.
“No- you don’t understand,” Tom said emphatically. “L/n is like…the cutest person to ever exist. And they’re so sweet, and smart, and funny, and-”
“And terrified of us?”
“Well…”
Mattheo rolled his eyes, putting his hands on his hips. “You talk about them too much. It’s getting insufferable.”
Tom just scowled and flicked his fingers to cast a wandless spell that straightened Mattheo’s tie and neatened his uniform. “The way you dress is insufferable. Slob.”
Mattheo stuck out his tongue at his brother before ruffling Tom’s hair to purposely mess it up. “Dick.”
“Idiot.”
~~~
Mattheo glanced up at you as you hovered uncertainly by the corner of his desk. 
“Can I sit here…?” You mumbled shyly, your cheeks flushing as the pretty dark-haired boy in your year smiled up at you.
“Course!” He grinned brightly before realizing that might have been too enthusiastic of a reply for eight in the morning and quickly tried to cover up his slip. “Uh…Y/n, right? I’m Mattheo.”
“Yeah, I know who you are.”
Mattheo’s stomach dropped.
Fuck, that’s not good.
“You let me copy your homework in third year for that essay on the properties of wormwood, or whatever.” You said offhandedly, like it wasn’t batshit insane to remember that pointlessly tiny detail. “Thank you for that, by the way. Potions sucks ass.”
Before Mattheo could even think, the words left his mouth. “I could tutor you if you want.”
You looked at him oddly, but grinned after a second. “Yeah, sure. That’d actually be really helpful. Snape hates me, man.”
“Really? Even though you’re in Slytherin?”
“Mhm, his baseless nepotism only extends so far.”
Mattheo barked out a startled laugh as your deadpan humor caught him off guard. You just grinned at him in response, causing the tips of his ears to immediately burn bright red.
He cleared his throat awkwardly, ducking his head in embarrassment. “Um…do you wanna meet in the library after school today? For our tutoring session,” Mattheo hurriedly added. 
“Sure, alright.” You shrugged. “See you there.”
He beamed, giving you that stupidly adorable grin once more. “Awesome! Yeah- yeah, cool. Awesome. See you there then.”
~~~
You were still shit at potions.
It had been six weeks of tutoring, and you’d learned pretty much nothing. Although, that wasn’t an issue on Mattheo’s part, but rather on his annoyingly hot older brother’s. 
Tom Riddle was surprisingly funny. For someone who gave off almost exclusively stoically austere bastard vibes, he enjoyed cracking jokes and enlisting your help in pulling pranks on his brother a bit too much.
It became your routine. Every Tuesday and Thursday after school, you would meet the two brothers in the library, waste like three hours joking around and getting absolutely no work done, and then going back to your dorm and ranting to your roommate about how fucking cute they are and how you would gladly pay for the opportunity to make out with one- no, both of them. 
(Your roommate is so fucking tired of hearing about the Riddles. You’d better buy them a latte and a cake-pop as an apology.)
~~~
You struggled to get up, your legs giving out. You cursed under your breath, putting a hand to your forehead as it throbbed in pain. 
It came away sticky with blood. 
This wasn’t going to work, you realized belatedly. With what remained of your strength, you were able to reach out and grab your wand, murmuring a quiet, “Expecto Patronum.”
A spectral creature formed in front of your eyes, remaining motionless as it stared at you. 
“Go find Riddle,” you mumbled to the Patronus, your eyelids growing heavy. 
You barely registered the wispy glowing animal immediately bounding off at your instructions, your vision doubling before your body went completely slack, the wand slipping from your fingers and hitting the tile floor with a clatter. 
~~~
Mattheo doodled mindlessly in the margins of his parchment as his brother droned on and on about the properties of willow bark in potions and really, this is important, Mattheo. Pay attention.
“Why isn’t Y/n here yet?” Mattheo asked his brother for the third time. 
Tom rolled his eyes. “I don’t know, Matt. Just like how I didn't know when you asked me five minutes ago. Maybe they just don’t want to see your stupid face any more, huh?”
“What if they’re in trouble? Or hurt?” Mattheo worried, chewing on his thumbnail and ignoring his brother’s insult. “They’re never late, Tommy.”
Tom wrinkled his nose at the use of the dumb (albeit endearing) nickname Mattheo gave him when they were children, but the sinking feeling in his gut at hearing his brother’s distressed tone didn’t help to ease the niggling worries at the back of his mind of maybe they are in trouble.
As if on cue, Mattheo shivered as something icy cold brushed against his ankles. He glanced down. A glowing spectral creature nudged his leg, looking up at him expectantly with unnervingly empty eyes. 
A Patronus. 
Y/n’s Patronus.
~~~
They followed the Patronus down the deserted hall, the animal occasionally pausing to make sure the boys were both still following it before bounding forward again.
The Patronus stopped in front of a bathroom door, giving them both that same unnervingly hollow-eyed stare of expectancy.
Tom gulped and pushed open the door, fearing that he might find the worst.
He did.
~~~
Your eyes cracked open slowly, and you winced at the multitude of stinging and stabbing pains that wracked your body.
You had to blink a couple times for everything to come into focus. You were in a small room with white walls and white flooring, and the gentle dawn illuminated the quiet space with soft rays of light. The steady beep of a vitals monitor faded into the background as you stared down at yourself.
You weren’t wearing a shirt, for one, or even a hospital gown. Pretty much your entire upper torso was wrapped in bloodstained gauze. The jagged edges of a brutal slash across your chest peeked out of the top of the dressings, and you had to close your eyes and hold your breath for a moment to keep from throwing up. Once you’d calmed back down, you opened your eyes, startled to see that you weren’t alone.
Mattheo had pulled up a chair to the side of your hospital bed and crossed his arms on the mattress, using them as a makeshift pillow. His dark lashes fanned across his cheeks, his breaths slow and even. He looked so peaceful and...unguarded in his sleep. You reached down to brush a loose curl away from his forehead.
“Having fun?”
You startled, jerking your hand back. 
Tom leaned against the doorframe of your room with an amused expression, quirking an eyebrow and wiggling his fingers in a wave.
“Shut up,” you hissed back in a whisper, your cheeks flaring red. 
Tom’s amused grin only grew at your dark blush as he invited himself into your room fully, closing the door behind him.
 “Your secret’s safe with me.” He jokingly winked, tapping the side of his nose.
“You’re insufferable.”
“So I’ve been told.”
“What am I doing here?” You quickly changed topics, refusing to even look down in Mattheo’s direction. 
Tom sighed, any amusement on his face rapidly vanishing. “You sent us a Patronus, thank Merlin. Pomfrey said you would’ve bled out if you hadn’t.”
You had no memory of casting the Patronus charm at all, but you trusted Tom’s recollection of events better than your own jumbled and spotty one. “Bled out?” You questioned, your heart hammering in your throat as your voice climbed an octave in anxiety.
Tom nodded, his face carefully schooled into a blank and neutral expression. “You were hit with the Sectumsempra spell. You've been out for three days now.”
Your brow furrowed. “Malfoy got hit with that last year though—and was in and out of the infirmary in less than a day.”
“Snape knew the counterspell and found ‘im just in time last year,” Mattheo mumbled sleepily, his eyes still closed as he tuned into the conversation at hand. “But whoever hit you with it just left you there to die.”
“Charming.” You mutter under your breath.
“Regardless of what happened in Malfoy’s instance,” Tom interrupted briskly. “You were on the brink of literal death. So I’ll ask you this one time and one time only. Who did it, Y/n?”
~~~
“I brought you a cookie from the Great Hall,” Mattheo grinned widely, climbing into your hospital bed next to you and unwrapping the napkin in his hand. “And the notes from today’s Charms lesson, but those’re boring and we both know you won’t actually read ‘em.”
“Aww, you know me so well.” You teased, breaking the cookie in half and handing him one of the pieces.
Mattheo cupped the cookie fragment in his hands like it was a priceless treasure, staring down at it in unrestrained awe. 
You just shook your head at his antics and brushed the odd reaction off.
~~~
You woke up this morning and just felt like shit. You were nauseous, and dizzy, and felt borderline faint. Tom’s voice, usually soothing and comforting to hear, sounded like nails on a chalkboard right now. He rambled on and on about the delicate process of making the temperamental Felix Felicis potion. 
“Tom,” you interrupted, your voice scratchy and quiet. “Can we take a break? Please?”
He blinked, surprised at being interrupted, but nodded slowly. “I suppose…? Why?”
“Don’t feel good,” you mumbled, setting your textbook down and rubbing your eyes. 
“I wouldn’t expect you to,” Madame Pomfrey said brusquely as she bustled around your hospital room, shooing Tom out of the way to stand by your bedside. 
(Poppy Pomfrey remains the only person who can and has shooed Tom Riddle III and lived to tell the tale—and all without a single ounce of fear.)
“I’ve raised your dosage so that you can be out of here in time for your N.E.W.T.s.” Pomfrey elaborated upon seeing your confused look.
“Fantastic.” You mumbled dryly, grinning sleepily up at Tom as he grabbed onto your hand and interlaced your fingers together. He ignored the way his heart skipped a beat in favor of letting you hold his sweaty palm.
“Go to sleep, L/n,” Tom muttered under his breath. “Potions can wait.”
~~~
Tom lay in your hospital bed beside you, running his thumb over your knuckles. “Please? We promise we won’t do anything.”
“Yeah,” Mattheo chimed in from the other side of your crowded bed, one arm tossed over your waist as he rested his chin on your shoulder. “Or at least, nothing we’ll get caught for.”
You sigh, tired of their ceaseless pleading. “Alright, alright, fine. I’ll tell you who it was.”
Both boys leaned in close.
You sigh again and roll your eyes at their overprotectiveness. “Alright, it was-”
~~~
Tucker Thompson and Devin Dobbs: Gryffindor Sixth Years Found MURDERED at Hogwarts! Dumbledore: “No comment at this time.”
You tilted the newspaper so Madame Pomfrey could read the article over your shoulder as she replaced your IV bag. 
Pomfrey just sighed and rolled her eyes. “I don’t understand how Skeeter is still employed at the Prophet.”
“Cause shock value will always hold weight in the media?” You answered dryly around a mouthful of depressingly plain infirmary wing toast. “And Skeeter’s good at nothing if not coming up with bullshit shock value titles.”
“That may be true,” she began, snatching the paper from your hands. “But patients shouldn’t be reading about such dark subjects, and certainly not while under my care. And don’t talk while eating. I rather like your company, and would hate to see you choke.”
You rolled your eyes at her suffocatingly motherly behavior. “So are they? Thompson and Dobbs; they’re really dead?”
Madame Pomfrey hesitated.
You let out a relieved breath of air that you tried (and failed) to hide behind a cough. “That’s…terrible.”
She narrowed her eyes and studied you for a long moment, her fingers mindlessly worrying the deckle edge of the newspaper in her hands. “It was them, wasn’t it? Your boys.”
“My boys?”
“Yes, yes, Riddles one and two. Your boys.”
“Oh- we’re not…”
She raised an eyebrow, pursing her lips as she tried to hold back a laugh at the utter obliviousness of teenagers. “Do they know that, dear?”
You spluttered out a half-assed rebuke to her statement, but Pomfrey quickly interrupted you.
“They’ve been staying here for hours every day for the last month. They want more than just your friendship, hon.”
“No way. We’re just friends.” You insisted firmly. “That’s all.”
Madame Pomfrey rolled her eyes. “Uh huh. Friends. Keep telling yourself that.”
You stared after her, open-mouthed in bafflement, as she rolled up the Prophet, tucked it under her arm, and turned around without another word—leaving you with zero reading material and a million questions.
•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
you have to love how pomfrey could not give less of a fuck that the riddles murdered two students as long as she gets her ot3 absolutely iconic behavior
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ellecdc · 1 month
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girl girl hear me out YAPPER GF X REGULUS!! Pls pls pls like u could do anything u wanted with them!!! I have a few ideas (take any or none)
May be she just walks up to him one day like clearly wanting to befriend him cuz she has a lil crush and just starts yapping about how the great hall had her fave pastry for breakfast today and he's so confused but also intrigued and then she starts sitting next to him in classes and asking him to hang out at hogsmead and she just yaps and sometimes she thinks may be he zones out but then he'll bring up this super niche detail she mentioned last time like "hey what happened to that quill you forgot in the potions lecture?"
they r already dating and she worries she's too much energy and talk for him and tries to be quiet and he's just like r u sick? R u mad at me? What's wrong u haven't gone on a 30 min description/rant about ur day
3. May be someone else brings up she talks a lot and Reggie defends her?
you guys really love your bubbly/talkative readers with Regulus, don't you? (so do i); thanks for your request!
Regulus Black x yapper!reader who didn't think he was actually listening
CW: fem!reader, rolling thoughts, brief mention of difficulty making friends, people talking about reader behind her back, swear words (on ellecdc? nooo [sarcasm])
Your family said that you had an incessant need to fill silence from the moment you could talk. 
“If there’s a room with our daughter in it, you can be certain that it won’t be quiet.” Your mum had proclaimed as she beamed at you lovingly one day.
While it was certainly a trait that your family had always found rather endearing, you felt that it made it particularly difficult making friends once you began attending Hogwarts. 
But the friends you managed to make loved you for it, and they had often stated “you can call her what you want but you can’t call her boring.” 
That didn’t mean your other classmates appreciated your stories or tangents, though. 
Which is how you ended up serving numerous detentions for speaking during class or lectures and disturbing the students around you, and how you’d been cycled through numerous seat partners in potions class. 
And that is how poor Regulus Black ended up stuck sharing a worktable with the likes of you.
He didn’t seem to mind, though. And if he did, well, he certainly never said anything about it.
You were quite sure he tuned you out during your rambles, hardly ever sparing you a glance and keeping his eyes trained on his parchment in front of him as he took dutiful notes during lectures.
Couldn’t be you, however.
No.
You were too busy lamenting about the fact that you couldn’t get more than twenty feet to the mooncalf herd up the hill behind the quidditch pitch before they would all run off. They only came out at night, you see, and you wanted to take some photos of them. Some photos turned into midnight picnics, and picnics turned into sharing apple slices by means of throwing them towards the bug-eyed beasts and watching them argue over the slice until you threw another. But even after feeding them forty seven apples and counting at this point (Winky the house elf from the kitchen was not pleased with you), they still wouldn’t let you get any closer to them.
Your next course of action was to try a smellier and higher value treat; you wondered then if mooncalves could have tuna? Tuna was certainly smelly enough. Well, if you couldn’t entice the mooncalves, you’d certainly entice a cat or two. 
You wondered then if mooncalves and cats got along? Kneazles were nearly the same size as the poor beasts, but cats were much smaller. You figured cats would look at a mooncalf the same way they’d look at a goat. 
You’d seen a cat ride a goat once, not many people believed you, though. You’d have to learn how to make a pensieve one day just to prove it to everyone. You didn’t much care for goats, though; something about their square pupils seemed alien to you. 
Which seemed odd considering there were numerous beasts in the magical world that really were quite alien, yet it was  goats that did it for you.
And why were they always associated with the devil? Was it because of the square pupils? Do you think there’d be a book that explained that?
But you didn’t even realise that the period had ended until Regulus stood and collected his books, offering you a curt nod before leaving the classroom. 
Fuck….do you think he’d let you copy his notes? 
⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆
Merlin’s tits, she never stops talking! I feel bad for the poor sod stuck next to her; Black probably wants to avada himself every class. You heard a classmate mutter as you walked to your workbench, movements slowed as you lowered yourself into your chair and tried not to let their words hurt you. 
You were used to the comments, you were used to the sentiment honestly; did they think it was easy being you? Did they think you didn’t get tired of listening to yourself too? 
Of course you did, it was exhausting; your brain never stopped moving, and apparently, neither did your mouth.
But it did hurt a little, perhaps because Regulus had been quite gracious about it thus far. He had listened to you carry on about the astrological significance of space waste and how that was affecting the magic of the stars. He had listened to you bemoan about the positive impact that centaur migration had on local flora and fauna and how the fencing of fields and forests was going to cause unimaginable damage to the life cycles of such. He also had listened to your morose mooncalf story and the update the next day that you were able to order cans of tuna via owl to the castle.
And he’d not so much as bat an eye at you.
Certainly he’d have said something to you if you bothered him? 
Although, perhaps this was why Slughorn put him beside you, because he knew Regulus wouldn’t say anything; had Regulus done something to anger Slughorn? Was placing you beside Regulus less about you driving your seat mates crazy, but more about being a punishment for Regulus?
Well, you couldn’t imagine Regulus had done anything bad enough to deserve a full term with you as a potions partner.
No, you decided, you would not be his punishment.
So when Regulus entered class that day, and Slughorn read out the instructions for today’s potion brew, you resisted the urge to speak.
You were quiet when retrieving your potion ingredients, you were quiet as you checked and double checked the brewing instructions, and you were quiet as you waited for the potion to reach its boiling point. 
You actually thought you’d done quite well; you sort of wished you had started a timer, this may very well have been a record for you. 
Well, unless sleeping counted. Would sleeping count as being quiet? Oh gods, what if you talked in your sleep too!? You’d have to ask your roommates.
“L/N.” Regulus called as if it hadn’t been the first time he’d done so. “You alright?” He asked, ducking down in an attempt to meet your gaze as you watched a divot appear between his brows.
“Yeah? Why?” You asked, finding yourself furrowing your brows in solidarity; you found Regulus to be too pretty to look so worried. 
He shrugged his shoulders and straightened up, though the space between his brows remained divoted. “You’ve been awfully quiet, s’all.” He murmured quietly, and you were surprised to see a dusting of pink on his cheeks.
“Isn’t that a good thing?” You muttered perhaps pointedly; his eyes narrowing to match the furrowed brows. 
“Says who?”
Your eyes traitorously darted to the students who had been discussing your habits, and Regulus followed your gaze.
He rolled his eyes and muttered something in French under his breath as he turned his attention back towards your shared potion. “Those tossers are just mad that they have nothing of value to say.”
You more felt than heard a disbelieving breath escape your lips as you looked at Regulus in bemusement. 
He didn’t seem to notice though, as he continued to the next step in your potion and carried on. “Did the tuna work?”
You stared at him dumbly before your brain kicked back into gear. “I beg your pardon?”
“The tuna.” He repeated. “For the mooncalves?”
Oh.
“Oh.” You started, giving your head a shake as you tried to find your balance you had long lost during this conversation. “Erm, no, but I did indeed attract a few cats.”
“Ah.” Regulus offered, smiling at you (or at the expected poof from the potion signifying that the two of you had brewed it correctly thus far). 
“Also, I found out why goats are often associated with the devil, but the book you’d be looking for is Biblical in nature.”
You stared at him with your mouth agape as he continued. “There’s a quote where that Christ bloke mentions something about separating people from one another just as a shepherd separates the sheep from the goats. They’re used as a metaphor for the ‘bad’ or ‘inferior’ member of any group; it could also be understood as the divide between the pure and the wicked. I say goats got a bad rap, though.”
The next step in your potion brewing process was to allow the potion to simmer until it turned a milky white colour, so Regulus lowered the heat before appearing to remember something.
“I almost forgot…” He started as he began rooting through his book bag. “I asked the shopkeep at Brood & Peck, and she said this is a favourite of mooncalves; maybe you’ll have more luck tonight?” He asked as he held out a parchment of beast treats to you. 
“You’ve been listening? This whole time?” You whispered in awe as you took the bag delicately as if  he had just handed you a delicate china dish. 
His brows furrowed again as he searched your eyes. “Well…yeah? I’m rather invested now.” He explained just as your potion turned its intended colour. 
“Very good Mr. Black, Miss. L/N.” Professor Slughorn commented as he walked past your workbench. 
You were alerted to the fact that class was over when everyone’s potions were vanished with a pop and students started to pack up their belongings.
“You’ll keep me posted, yeah? About the mooncalves?” Regulus asked as he started walking backwards towards the door. 
“Sure.” You murmured, earning you a wide smile from the notoriously quiet boy. 
Yes… You’d be more than happy to keep Regulus Black posted.
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