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#mattheo
slytherinslut0 · 3 days
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theodore nott • may i have this dance?
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info: smallish blurb for @thatdammchickennugget’s hogmarch challenge. prompt four. (i know im a day late lol sorry mari ily)
summary: theodore told everyone that dances weren’t his thing and decided he wasn’t going to attend the yule ball. when you agreed to go with cormac, he realized that he’d made a big mistake, and was there for you when you needed him most.
tags: soft and fluffy. shitty cormac per usual.
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You should have seen it coming.
You should have damn well known that accepting Cormac's half-assed invitation to the Yule Ball was practically signing up for one thing and one thing only:
a one-way ticket to misery.
The sting of his abandonment wasn’t even the worst of it--though it did occur almost immediately, sneaky bloke somehow managing to slither off before Dumbledore even had the chance to make it to the podium to give the opening fucking speech.
Truthfully, you probably could have gotten over that. With enough drinks, that is.
The real kicker came after the bewildering manner in which he vanished into the ether. The moment he reappeared all the same, as if nothing had even happened, accompanied now by your ex-best friend, clinging to his arm like a fucking lifeline.
His smirk, so brazenly triumphant, seemed to stretch wider than the chasm between you, swallowing up his entire face in a painfully irritating display of mockery and betrayal as he shot you an infuriating wink from across the room, leading your friend through the crowd and into position for the first slow dance.
That was it. There was no goddamn way you were staying in that cursed room for even a millisecond longer.
If not for your ironclad resolve, you were fully convinced you would have set the entire room ablaze in a whirlwind of rage as you stormed out.
Yet, as you downed nearly half the flask of firewhiskey you had concealed beneath your flowing emerald green gown, a profound epiphany struck you: that wretched excuse for a human being didn't merit even a fraction of your emotional investment.
What he truly warranted, from the depths of your seething soul, was a resounding void of utter insignificance.
And with that realization burning in your chest, you pivoted on your heels and pushed your way through the throng, feigning ignorance to Pansy's concerned calls and Mattheo's mocking gaze as he reached out to grasp your arm, undoubtedly ready to ridicule you for being left high and dry before the first damn dance.
Your friends had warned you of this inevitable outcome, but your stubbornness had clouded your ears to their warnings.
You live and you learn, right?
"Wrong," Mattheo, Theodore, Enzo, Blaise, and Draco would have most definitely retorted in unison.
You could practically hear it in the recesses of your mind as you pushed through the large double doors and out into the warm spring breeze flowing through the corridor. They would have reminded you that sometimes it pays to heed the advice of someone who's walked the same path, that perhaps they were genuinely trying to watch out for you for once.
Of course, you would have simply scowled and rolled your eyes in response. You didn't need advice from anyone, definitely not them. Although…it certainly would have paid off to listen just this once…
Just then, in that fleeting moment of mental pondering, an intriguing thought popped into your mind;
Perhaps, just perhaps; you were the problem here.
…..No. Nope. Not even close.
You forcefully dismissed that nagging notion the very second it dared to intrude. No, you couldn’t, and simply wouldn’t entertain the idea that you were at fault here.
The reason you were making a hasty exit from the Yule Ball before the first dance had even commenced, the reason the echo of your black heels striking the cobblestones beneath them reverberated throughout the damp and desolate corridor, was solely because of Cormac.
If you were the problem, you’d be the one in there dancing with whomever you pleased, paying no mind to the feelings of others. Your Yule Ball evening was over. And not even the combined efforts of Godric Gryffindor, Professor Snape, Salazar Slytherin and Filch's bloody cat could have kept you from fleeing.
But in truth, if you were being completely real with yourself, you weren’t even all that bummed. A very large part of you didn’t even want to partake tonight.
Perhaps that was due to the fact that the man you longed to accompany the dance with had adamantly declared his aversion to such festivities, and simply decided not to attend.
But that’s neither here nor there at this point.
As you reached the threshold of the courtyard, your gaze fell upon the breathtaking scene unfolding before you: a moonlit evening enveloped in a torrential downpour, each raindrop hammering against the emerald expanse of grass with relentless force.
It was as tragically beautiful as it was suiting.
And as you were lost in the beauty of nature's fury, you were startled by a husky voice slicing through the stillness, calling out your name from down the hall. Nearly leaping out of your own damn skin, your head snapped to the side, your eyes meeting those of a tall, strikingly handsome Italian man striding purposefully towards you.
"Hey," Theodore called out, his voice gentle yet determined, "Wait up."
You rolled your eyes before you could even stop yourself. Force of habit.
“I saw you leaving,” he continued, his steps quickening as he closed the distance between you. “Are you okay?”
You met his concerned gaze with a raised eyebrow, a hint of sass colouring your reply, "don’t I look okay to you?"
Theodore's gaze caressed you, hunger evident in his half-lidded eyes as they roamed over your form with a blend of admiration and concern. Barely audible, a curse slipped from his lips in Italian before he locked eyes with you once more, a palpable shift in the intensity of his gaze.
"You look more than okay, Bella," he murmured, taking a single step closer. “Doesn’t mean you feel it.”
Your breath caught in your throat, your heart quickening its pace in response to his proximity. As Theodore’s words washed over you, a shiver ran down your spine, your skin tingling with the heat of his gaze.
This was the man you’d longed to attend the dance with tonight. The one who swore he’d never take part in such idiocy. Standing before you, clad in an all black suit.
You didn’t even have a thought to question it—to question him—on what the hell he was doing here, dressed like that—because as you stood there, your temperature rising, you met his eyes, a mixture of vulnerability and longing swirling within your own.
“Maybe not,” you whispered, your voice barely above a breath, “but somehow…you make it hard to feel anything else.”
Theodore's lips curved into a knowing smile, and his tongue darted out to wet them, his eyes locking with yours in silent understanding.
"Then maybe," he murmured, his voice low and intimate, "we should find a way to make you feel everything."
Your entire body froze in place as Theodore slowly extended his hand towards you, the world around you fading into insignificance as if time itself had paused, as if someone had cast a spell on the clock. Almost entirely speechless, you found yourself unable to tear your gaze away from his, the anticipation thick in the air as the distant strains of a slow dance song filtered through the corridor, emanating from the Yule Ball.
With a gentle smile, Theodore broke the silence, his voice barely above a whisper, "may I have this dance?"
As your lips parted to respond, a whirlwind of emotions danced across your face, your eyes flickering between his outstretched hand and the captivating depths of his gaze. A mischievous grin tugged at the corners of your mouth, your usually sassy self left utterly speechless, and with deliberate slowness, you surrendered your hand to his, relishing in the warmth that flooded your senses as he drawed you closer and into his embrace.
Theodore’s hands found their place on your waist with a gentle yet firm grip, pulling you closer to him as if to reassure you of his presence. You reciprocated by resting your palms on his shoulders, feeling the heat emanating from his body, its intensity seeping through the fabric of his suit jacket, igniting a tingling sensation in your fingertips.
You let your eyes trace a path up his strong chest, taking in the subtle rise and fall of his breath beneath the fabric of his shirt. It was then that you noticed the emerald silk tie adorning his neck, its colour mirroring the rich hue of your dress almost perfectly.
Utterly mesmerized, you couldn’t comprehend the way this man had rendered you so bloody speechless. You’d never have expected any of this in a million years.
Finally, you managed to exhale, your voice barely above a whisper, “you…you matched my dress…”
Theodore’s eyes softened as he looked down at you, a tender smile playing on his lips.
“Only because I knew you’d be wearing it,” he replied, his voice warm, a soft caress against your skin. “Cormac is a fucking idiot.”
A breathy laugh escaped your lips, mingling with the soothing melody of the rain and the gentle hum of the slow dance tune. You blinked, looking up at him through your lashes, finding yourself lost in the depth within the ocean of his eyes.
“You knew he’d ditch me,” you whispered, the words barely audible over the soft cadence of the music. As you watched Theodore’s eyes trace the curve of your lips, a flicker of realization dawned upon you. “You were betting on it.”
“I knew you deserved better,” he murmured, a soft swallow rippling through his throat as he spoke, his eyes shimmering beneath the dim glow of the moonlight filtering through the rain-soaked courtyard. “And I was hoping you’d see it too.”
“Why didn’t you try to stop me?” you whispered, your voice tinged with a hint of vulnerability.
You thought back on the advice from the others. All those times Theo was quiet, just watching. Listening.
Theodore’s expression softened, a rueful smile gracing his lips as he reached out to brush a stray strand of hair from your face. “Would you have listened, Bella?”
You could feel the subtle tension dissipate as Theodore's touch lingered on your cheek, and with a gentle swallow, you met his gaze, a playful glint dancing in your eyes as you considered his question.
"Perhaps not," you replied, your voice as teasing as the grin gracing your lips. “I am quite stubborn, aren’t I?”
Theo chuckled, and you were going to leave it at that, remain silent and enjoy the moment for what it was, but as your eyes found his once more, a surge of honesty flooded your senses, rendering you momentarily breathless. The subtle rise and fall of his chest, the way his lips curved up while donning that devilish smirk of his, the sensation of his thumb brushing against your cheek—it was simply all too much to ignore.
"But, you should know,” you confessed softly, "I truly only wanted to go with you."
Theodore blinked, his gaze flickering with surprise at your admission, as if he hadn't expected you to voice your feelings so openly. But there was no denying the electricity crackling in the air between you, a silent acknowledgment of the unspoken desires that had lingered beneath the surface for far too long. His fingers threaded gently through your hair, coaxing your face closer to his, and you couldn’t help but lean into his touch, feeling the warmth of his breath against your skin.
"Dances have never really been my thing, Bella..." his voice, a mere whisper, sent your limbs shuddering with nerves. Your fingers trembled slightly against his shoulders, the only anchor keeping you grounded in the intensity of the moment. "But I'd slow dance across the entire castle with you if you asked..."
Leaning closer, Theodore's breath mingled with yours, the warmth of his words sending a shiver down your spine. As he leaned closer, you could hear the subtle hitch in his breath, the tremor in his exhale.
"I was a fool...” as he hovered inches from your lips, you could feel the heat of his breath against your skin, the tension between you reaching its breaking point. “…for not mustering the courage to ask you myself.”
You wet your lips, your eyes bouncing all over his face, your entire body trembling with urgency, with need, with hunger. You’d hardly even heard his words at this point.
“Tell me, Bella…." he breathed, the words longing for an absolution only you could grant him. “Will you ever manage to forgive me?”
With a mischievous glint in your eyes, you leaned as close as you could possibly get, your lips just barely grazing against his, savouring the moment for every bloody second it had.
"Kiss me," you murmured through a grin, your voice barely above a whisper, "and perhaps…just perhaps, I'll find it in my heart to forgive you."
With that, he dipped low, two strong hands finding your face, capturing your lips with his, and you sighed, lids closing, reaching to forage into his hair. A soft exhale escaped him, the kiss deepening, and he cradled your head, holding you closer, his other hand falling to support your neck, thumb skimming your jaw.
You whined, joy glowing in your chest, and you eased against his body, the both of you melting into each other, melting into the moment, the sound of the rain and the rhythmic tune of the slowdance fading away in the foreground.
And as he slowly pulled away from the kiss, Theodore's eyes met yours again, blue orbs shimmering brighter than the moon.
"I’d spend a lifetime making it up to you," he vowed softly, urging your head to rest gently against his chest. "Starting with this dance."
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cloveswifey · 6 months
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Clingy
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Dad!Tom riddle X Fem!Reader
Fluff
"Mommy is mine!" Mattheo, your spirited three-year-old, shouted, pushing Tom's face away from you.
"Excuse me?" Tom feigned offense, placing a hand over his chest dramatically. "She is married to me, little buddy." He proudly displayed your ring on his finger, causing Mattheo to cry in despair. You couldn't help but roll your eyes at your husband's playful antics.
Mattheo had definitely entered that clingy phase. He only wanted you to feed him, hug him, play with him, and put him to sleep. He absolutely despised when Tom even gave you a little peck on the lips, and oh, was Tom having fun teasing your little one.
In the past few days, Mattheo's clinginess seemed to escalate. Not that he wasn't clingy before, but now it had become even more intense. As you tried to cook, his little hands would constantly explore your body, causing him to become upset when Tom was around. In an attempt to scare Tom away, Mattheo would even throw his food at him, which only made Tom laugh even harder.
You gave Tom a knowing look and remarked, "I wonder where he got his bad temper from."
Tom affectionately placed a hand on your growing stomach and whispered against your head, "Let's hope this little one isn't as jealous as his brother."
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Don't touch her
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Pairings: Mattheo Riddle x hufflepuff!reader
Warnings: Swearing, violence, blood, tw! abuse, bullying, and my shitty writing
Summary: Y/n has two older brothers in Ravenclaw. Both are little entitled shits that love treating their sister like shit. When Mattheo finds out when they take it too far... Well, we all know what he'll do.
A/n: @victoriapedroza thank you for requesting! Im sorry if u didn't want me to make the reader a hufflepuff, I just thought it was a good idea. It's not my best, but do let me know what you think of it.
-
Y/n smiled happily as she saw Mattheo waiting for her after class.
"Hi love," Mattheo smiled as Y/n came to a stop in front of him, he pecked her lips before taking her hand in his as they walked down the corridors to the Great Hall for lunch, "How was class?"
"Great! I helped Hagrid with the nifflers and one of the babies gave me a gold coin. Have you ever heard of anything like it? A niffler giving instead of taking something shiny. I feel honoured," Y/n smiled brightly.
Mattheo felt a warm feeling bubbling in his chest as he watched her smile brightly.
"That's amazing, baby," He said kissing the side of her head.
"What's also amazing is that I heard a certain someone won the potions competition again," She smirked as she eyed her boyfriend, "Another vial of liquid luck that is going to collect dust?"
"Why would I need liquid luck if I have my lucky charm right here?" Mattheo smiled as he brought their hands up to his lips and kissed the back of her hand.
"You're cute, you know that?" She smiled kissing his cheek, "Oh! I completely forgot I have herbology next. I have to go get my books. I'll see you at lunch. Tell Pansy that she has to finish that story that she told me earlier."
"I will," Mattheo smiled before kissing her, "Now hurry back."
Y/n smiled at him before she hurried towards the hufflepuff common room. When she rounded the corner she bumped straight into someone.
"Watch where you're going!" She looked up and saw Gavin and Phillip, her two older brothers. Phillip was the oldest and Gavin was only a year under him. (Btw, the years might not make sense. However we're here for the story, not math)
"Oh, it's you," Phillip said.
"Sorry, I was in a hurry. I have to get my her-"
"Yeah, we don't care," Gavin said interrupting her.
Y/n stood up and brushed her robes off, "No need to be rude," She mumbled.
"What was that?" Phillip asked harshly.
"Nothing, forget it. I'm going," She said and started to walk off before she was pulled back and pushed up against the wall.
"You've been lucky until now, you little bitch," Phillip spat, "That little boyfriend of yours has always been around. Where's he now, huh?"
"Let me go," Y/n begged, tears threatening to fall.
"Aww is little Y/n going to cry?" Gavin said mockingly.
Phillip then laughed, "I'll give you something to cry about," He said before he threw her on the ground and she landed against one of the pillars. He then proceeded to kick her in the stomach.
She went to grab her wand but Gavin stepped on her wrist. She cried out in pain.
"Don't even think about telling anyone, or you're dead," He spat before the two of them walked away.
Y/n had to move quickly to get to the common room and back to the Great Hall, all the while making sure there was no evidence, just so that Mattheo and the rest don't get suspicious.
"You took a little longer than expected, love," Mattheo said as she plopped down next to him, "Everything alright?"
"Yeah, just had to look for it," Y/n said, "Room's a bit of a mess."
"As always," Mattheo said chuckling.
Y/n smiled at her boyfriend and kissed him before pulling away and looking at Pansy who was in front in of her explaining the story she had told earlier. Just behind her, on the other side of the hall sat Gavin and Phillip who were both glaring at her.
She immediately turned away.
-
It was a few days later the bruises on Y/n's hip and wrist got worse and were sore. So, sore that she couldn't move without cringing in pain. Something she had to do internally because she couldn't show it, she didn't want Mattheo or anyone else to find out.
Thank Merlin, it was winter, or they would've gotten suspicious if she wore a long sleeved shirt.
She sat with the rest of the Slytherin gang in the Slytherin common room. She was allowed to be there. She insisted on getting permission instead of sneaking in all the time and risk getting caught and getting detention.
"I'm so ready for the weekend," Enzo said, "I can't wait to get fucked."
"Fucked as in fucked or drunk and high?" Theo asked.
"Both," Enzo said.
"I could do with a drink right now," Pansy said.
"I can help with that," Y/n smirked as she stood up. Mattheo glanced at her confused, and as she stood up her shirt lifted slightly and he could see the big purple bruise.
Y/n then pulled two bottles firewhiskey from her bag.
"Holy fuck," Enzo laughed as he took one of the bottles from her, "Hufflepuff's becoming one of us."
"Shut up, I just thought we needed something to make us feel better," She smiled as she sat back down.
She went to open the bottle but her wrist pained. Mattheo watched as she struggled and saw the bruise.
"Looks like I'm not strong enough, you want to help me babe?" She asked smiling as she held out the bottle to him.
Mattheo took the bottle from her and opened it. Deciding to ask her later and not in front of everyone.
Later then came as Mattheo was walking Y/n back to the hufflepuff common room.
"Love," Mattheo said.
"Yeah?" She replied looking over at him.
"Why are their bruises on your wrist and hip?" He asked.
Y/n's heart began to quicken.
"Uh," She said before laughing nervously, "I was holding a bag that was stacked full of books. I was cleaning my dorm of course and then I bumped into the table. Guess I'm a little fragile."
Mattheo nodded, not believing her. She knew Mattheo didn't believe her, and she was glad he didn't asked anymore questions.
-
Y/n once again forgot her book in her room, and the same thing happened last time. She bumped into her brothers.
This time, she didn't submit to defeat like she has always done. This time, she pulled her wand out.
"Ohh, someone's brave," Gavin said as he pulled his wand out.
Y/n looked around to see if anyone was coming. Why was the hall always empty when she runs into them?
"Just leave me alone," She said as she started to back away.
"How could we? You keep bumping into us. You need to stop running down the halls, forgetting your books," Phillip said.
"We should teach you something about that," Gavin said.
"Like... this!" Phillip then shot a spell at her but she deflected it.
Then Gavin shot a spell and she deflected it.
Soon both started shooting spells trying to disarm her. She couldn't take much because it wasn't long before her wand was thrown to the other side of the corridor.
"Now, you should know not to pull your wand on your older brothers," Phillip said, "Crucio."
Y/n fell to the ground and screamed in pain. Gavin walked up to her and started kicking her. He even threw in a punch. In her face.
"Alright that's enough," Phillip said and all the pain stopped.
Y/n felt like she could breathe again and coughed for air, and there was blood when she coughed.
"Oh that's fucking disgusting," Gavin cringed.
"Come on, let's go before someone comes along," Phillip said before they vanished down the corridor.
That's the last thing she saw before she passed out.
"I wonder what's taking Y/n so long?" Pansy said. Lunch was almost over and Y/n stilled hadn't returned.
"I'm going to go find her," Mattheo said as he stood up.
"See you guys later then," Theo said before Mattheo walked out of the Great Hall.
He rounded the corner and at the end he saw someone lying on the ground.
"Y/n," He realised as he ran over to her. She was beaten up badly. He gently picked her up before running to the Hospital Wing.
-
"Who would do such a thing?" McGonagall asked Dumbledore as they stood in front of the hospital bed that Y/n was laying in. Mattheo sat next to her, he refused to move until she woke up.
"There are many that envy her," Dumbledore said, "But none that would hurt her like this."
"Well obviously someone did, we have to find out who. There is no place for bullying in this school," McGonagall said before they left.
It wasn't long after that, that Y/n opened her eyes.
"Shit," She said as she realised where she was.
Mattheo's eyes shot up, "Hey," He said once he saw she was awake, "I'm here."
Y/n turned her head to him, "Hey," She said.
"Love, who did this to you?" He asked, "Don't lie to me this time. I know when you lie."
Y/n sighed, "Gavin and Phillip," She said, "They've been doing this for years. Gotten worse and worse."
"Why didn't you tell me?" Mattheo asked.
"They're my brothers. I'll never escape them," She said.
Mattheo remained silent. He only remained calm for her, but he wasn't going to hold back the next time he sees them.
-
A week later Y/n was healed. Mattheo never left her side.
They were all sitting outside under the big tree in the courtyard. It was a peaceful day.
However that peacefulness didn't last long because Gavin and Phillip arrived.
Mattheo glared at them before he stood up from his where he sat and walked over to them.
"Oh dear," Y/n sighed as she watched Mattheo punch Phillip.
"What the fuck dude?" Gavin said before he himself got punched.
"Don't you ever fucking touch her again," Mattheo said as he kept throwing punches at Gavin. Phillip tried to pull him off but instead got himself landed under Mattheo receiving multiple punches.
"We should probably stop him," Pansy said.
"Nah, this is fun," Y/n said.
"What in Godric's name is going on out here?" McGonagall asked as she rushed outside. Mattheo got up and glared at the two boys whose faces were covered in blood.
"Just making sure these two never hurt touch their sister again," He said.
"They're the ones that hurt her?" McGonagall asked and Mattheo nodded, "I'd like to see you two in my office the second you're out of the hospital wing. You'll also get 3 months of detention. Every day."
McGonagall then turned to Mattheo, "As for you Mr Riddle. Five points will be taken from Slytherin for your act, but 25 points will be rewarded for standing up for your peers," McGonagall gave Y/n a wink before she disappeared with the two bloodied up boys behind her.
Mattheo walked back over and sat down again before pulling Y/n into her arms and kissing the side of her head, "That'll teach them never to touch my girl ever again."
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ladypearl333 · 5 days
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pov: you weren’t in class today
slytherin boys!reader
(includes theo, draco, mattheo, blaise, and enzo)
warnings: mention of cigarettes & potentially suggestive content?
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theo nott:
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draco malfoy:
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mattheo riddle:
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blaise zabini:
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lorenzo berkshire:
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thank you for reading!!!!!
*i need a way for you guys to send in requests but idk how to set that up on my page:’(
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multific · 9 months
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Black Quill
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Mattheo Riddle x Reader
Summary: You never liked Umbridge, but who did? The woman was miserable and cruel. Her power in the school grew day after day.
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You knew about her pen, you heard the tales from other students long before you entered detention.
Seeing the smirk on her face, the power-hungry bitch handed you a piece of paper.
"Now, Miss Y/L/N, today we are going to learn a really important lesson."
You felt a shiver run down your spine, now you didn't feel so confident.
Earlier that day, you were late for her class, and on top of all of that, you even said that her dress as ugly, detention was a given at that point. But you didn’t care.
However, what she made you write was something way more sinister.
You were prepared for a 'I must not be late' or 'I have to respect my teachers' but not this.
You only felt a tear escape your eyes when you left the room, you weren't ready to give her the satisfaction of seeing you cry.
You headed back to your room, not wanting to see anyone but of course your friends had another idea. You ran into all of them in the corridor. You assumed they have been waiting for you.
"Ah! Y/N! Finished with detention are you?" Asked Theodore as he was the one to first see you. Mattheo, Pansy, Theodore and Draco were all there, just chatting.
"She made you write with that pen?" Pansy asked and you could only nod.
"I cannot believe they are letting her do this! It is torture!" spoke up Draco.
You stood next to your boyfriend who offered you a warm smile, you smiled back but you could tell he was worried. He moved his arm around you as he smoked and you leaned into him, smelling him and just having him there did help you calm your nerves.
Soon, all of you decided to head back to your dorms to sleep but Mattheo followed you into your common room.
"What did she make you write?" he asked and you turned around to look at him, you opened your mouth to say something but couldn't. "I always know when something is off, and you have been hiding your hand. If it was something simple, you wouldn't hide it in front of me and your friends."
You let out a long sigh before moving your sleeve and showing him your hand.
You watched him closely, you watched his face as sadness turned into anger.
Pure rage.
---
"What?" you asked Umbrige, looking at her in disbelief with the quill in your hand you looked up at her..
"You heard me Miss Y/L/N, start writing." she said as she took a seat at her desk.
"But I-I am here because I was late to class, not b-"
"Stop it. Start writing," she said as she started to sip her tea looking at you with a disgusting smile on her face.
---
"I will kill her."
"Mattheo please." you grabbed his arm as he tried to leave, turning him back to look at you, he was angry, you have never seen him this angry before. "I don't want to be alone." you said, voice barely above a whisper and you knew, this would work, he would stay and hug you. 
And that is exactly what he did.
You felt so safe in his arms, not even the burning of your skin and the words on your skin could distract you.
'I must not love a Riddle.'
But you did. You loved Mattheo and nothing will change your mind, not the pain, and not Umbridge.
You knew this wasn't the end. You knew Mattheo more than anyone. 
After all, when you two started dating almost two years ago, he promised to you and to himself that he will never let his last name be a burden to you.
He will have his revenge.
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Taglist: @fleursirvart @greenarrowhead @thisismysecrethappyplace @sincerelyfan @theoneanna @aestheticsandmarvel @rororo06 @castellandiangelo @destynelseclipsa @spilledinkindumpster​ @capsiclesdoll @puknow​ @alwayshave-faith​ @alex12948​ @lxdyred​  @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl​ @anonymoussherlockandmarvelgeek @praline357​ @trshngyn​ @avengers-r-us​ @violet-19999​ @top1bbgloak​   @manduse​   @jacalineiscomingforyou​  @mandoloriancookie​ @noname2246​
~Masterlist~
ˇAO3ˇ
DO NOT STEAL, REPOST OR TRANSLATE ANY OF MY WORKS
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sheeple · 22 days
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Heirs of Hogwarts | part 1
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Genre(s): Nuisance to Lovers / Fake dating / Fluff / No Voldy au Fandom(s): Harry Potter Pairing(s): Mattheo Riddle x Hufflepuff!Reader Summary: After finding out your (now ex)boyfriend cheated on you with the girl he told you not to worry about, you decide to get into a fake relationship with the kid of another founder of Hogwarts. What could go wrong? Warning(s): Cheating boyfriend (Matt could never) / Matt is a cheeky shit A/n: Kinda tried something new with the notes. Lmk if you like/dislike it [Masterlist] [part 2] [part 3]
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There is a certain expectation that comes with having a well-known surname. People expect you to act in a way that befits a Malfoy, Abbott, Prewett or any other name on the Sacred Twenty-Eight list. And while there is no person left who carries the Gaunt name anymore, a Riddle is as good as a Gaunt in the eyes of the Pure-Blood community.
The one thing nobody realises that also carries on for the ones who are literally Wizarding World royalty. Like you. A Hufflepuff. No, not like the house. But your surname is literally Hufflepuff. Helga Hufflepuff is your great-grandmother many times over. And it sucks.
You're expected to be the embodiment of Hufflepuff House. Be kind, be ready to help everyone who asks, be patient, be humble, be just, be good at Herbology. You hate Herbology! The dirt under your nails. The smell of the classroom. The way magical plants are not really safe for children to be around. I mean... hello? Mandrakes? Yeah, didn't think so.
And it's not like you're not all those things. You are kind, you do help others when asked, you are humble, maybe not as patient as you should be, and just. Just not all the time. 
Like right now. Right now you are not patient with Hannah and Susan for hogging the bathroom. You've slept like shit and you are hungry. So, you've decided to go to breakfast without them and have them join you later. You can always brush your teeth after breakfast
As you walk across the common room, you greet your Great-Grandmother in passing. "Morning, Meemaw."
"Good morning my little Badger!", she calls after you cheerfully, earning a couple snickers from your housemates. You choose to ignore them and make your trek up the stairs in silence, giving every student who greets you a polite smile.
You don't even know half the people who call out your name when you pass them. They don't even use your name. Just a variation of Hufflepuff. Huff. Puff. Badger. Queen Badger — you really hate that one. You nearly punched a guy for calling you the Top Notch Yellow One. But to be fair, you were in an abysmal mood that day.
By now you've got a pro at tuning out the stares when you walk into the Great Hall. It's mostly the first years who stare at you with wide eyes and mouths agape once they learn who you are. 
You plop down at a free spot and start to plate up some food and pour in juice. Just as you're mid-sip, you feel someone loom over you.
"Good morning", gets whispered in your ear before your boyfriend takes a seat next to you.
You hum and slump against his shoulder. Malcolm pats your head as he knows that is the best attempt at getting a response from you before you've got a semblance of food in your stomach. 
Malcolm Preece and you have been dating for almost a year now. He's a year above you and on the Quidditch team. Your friends don't really like him — and if you are completely honest with yourself neither do you. He's too possessive. He always needs to know where you are and with whom. It also drives you absolutely up the walls.
It has always been expected of you to be in a respectable relationship by the sixth year. Even non-Slytherin families have that kind of pressure. Surprising hmm? You needed your parents off your back and Malcolm was there. Do you feel bad for the guy? Yeah, of course. And it's not like you don't care about him but it's more an obligation; the kissing and the touches and the handholding.
"Guess what", you grumble, whipping your mouth. Malcolm hums as he butters his bread. "My first class of the day is Herbology."
Malcolm laughs and shakes his head. He places a kiss on your hair before saying, "I know. You've been whining about it all last evening. Is there absolutely nothing you can find to enjoy about the subject. Or why don't you ask Sprout if you can drop the course?"
You give him a look. "You know I can't do that. Everybody in my family graduated top of their class and I am not about to be the first one of my siblings to royally piss off my parents. Amelia came close when she almost dropped Meemaw's cup." 
Your boyfriend laughs but doesn't say anything else. Because your hate for Herbology doesn't come from your general dislike of dirt. It comes from the first thing you see when you walk into the glasshouse.
You share many classes with other houses. You also share many classes with Slytherin. That also means you share many classes with Mattheo Riddle. He's a pompous prat who likes to make your days worse for absolutely no reason. 
Normally you sit on the other side of the classroom and ignore him and his friends. He's not above pulling your hair or bumping against you in the hallways. It's petty. And you have no idea why or how it started in the first place.
Herbology is the only class you actually have to interact with Mattheo. For the others you usually sit with Hannah or Susan. But Professor Sprout wanted to hustle up the usual groups and pair random students with each other. That's how you got stuck with Mattheo.
"What is it, princess? Scared a little mud will ruin your manicure?", he says with a shit-eating grin as you put on gardening gloves. You shoot him a glare but continue to tend to you Fluxweed.
"Looks like your Fluxweed can use a little manicure." You give a pointed look at the sad sprig that used to be a plant and continue to do your own thing. "That reminds me, we have to finish our report on Fluxweed. Do you have any time this week? I mean, between your busy schedule of pestering first years and tripping up Neville Longbottom."
You hear a snicker behind you. Hannah holds up her hand to her mouth to stifle her laughter and you wink at her while Mattheo sends her a scalding glare.
"Sure", sneers Mattheo, "if you have any room between tea parties and snogging that sad sack you call a boyfriend."
"I don't have-", you want to interject but you know it has no use. Only if Professor Sprout wouldn't be hoovering around you all the time you would have 'accidentally' stomped on his feet.
You turn your back towards him and walk towards the supply closet, searching for a pair of shears. But Professor Sprout keeps them on the top shelf. As you want to grab your wand, a hand suddenly tugs at the ribbon in your hair. 
With a gasp, you whip around and you are met with Mattheo's chest, his tie hanging loosely around his neck. He gives you a bored look before turning around and walking back towards his table. 
You shake your head and turn around. When you want to Accio the shears to you, you see that they've been placed on the shelve at eye height. Huh.
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Once your classes before lunch are finally over you walk out of the classroom with a smile as you spot Malcolm waiting for you. But your smile soon falters at the person standing next to him. Gladys Prescott stands way too close to your boyfriend. She's twirling a lock of hair with her finger as she laughs obnoxiously at one of Malcolm's jokes. They're great, but not that funny.
When you first started dating Malcolm you voiced your questions about his and Gladys' relationship. You were under the impression that they were dating because of how close they were. You and your friends were surprised when he asked you out on a Hogsmeade date.
The worst thing is that Malcolm swears nothing's going on between the two. That they're just friends. But the way he looks at her and treats her makes you glower. It's not that you're jealous. Just... you don't want to get berated by your parents for choosing the wrong partner.
"Ready?", you plaster on a wide smile, clutching your books in your hands.
Gladys and Malcolm look like they are snapped out of their little world before Malcolm registers that it's you and he returns your smile. "You don't mind if Gly joins us, do you?"
You turn to the girl, who gives you a fake ass big smile. "Of course not. The more the merrier! Now, tell me about your morning."
The two of them speak more to each other and don't bother to include you. Resting your chin on your hand, you look around the Great Hall. Susan and Hannah are doing their Prefect duties so they are unable to join you for lunch. 
Tuning out Malcolm and Gladys, your eyes flicker to the other students who are enjoying their lunch. You suddenly make eye contact with Mattheo over at the Slytherin table. He raises his brows at you. You mimic his expression before continuing with your surveying. But when you look back he's still looking at you.
His expressionless eyes flicker towards your boyfriend and Gladys before back to you. He raises a single eyebrow at you, silently asking if you tolerate it. 
You send him a pinched look back before zoning back into the conversation. Malcolm and Gladys are laughing loudly and Gladys has a hand clasped over his. The hold on your fork tightens and you swear you feel it bend in your hold.
You stand up abruptly. Gladys and Malcolm pull their hands away like they're burned and look up at you. "I'm... I have to ask Professor Slughorn something before class begins." You think up the excuse on the spot.
"Oh... Do you want me to walk you..?" Malcolm looks at you with big eyes.
But you shake your head. "No. I wouldn't want to pull you away from your fascinating conversation." You give Gladys a sickly sweet smile, which she doesn't return.
Instead of making a left once you leave the Great Hall, you keep on walking until you're at the edge of the forest. You survey if nobody's following you. With a deep breath, you crouch down and feel your bones and skin snap and pull.
One thing that nobody seems to know about Helga Hufflepuff is that she is a born Animagus. And she has given the ability to transform into a badger at will to all her descendants. The Ministry knows about it and every Hufflepuff descendant gets tested at age ten. By then most children are already used to the transformation.
And you love it. It helps you clear your head and release frustration. As of late you've been doing it a lot more. 
Your little legs move easily over the forest floor towards your little burrow. You know, the Dark Forest isn't that scary when you're one of the animals. Mostly because you know which sides of the forest you need to dodge. Badgers are vicious but spiders are a paint in the butt. 
The afternoon is spent frolicking in flower fields, munching on berries and nuts, and reinforcing the little stick bridges you made for your fellow badgers and woodland creatures over the many rivers that pass through the forest.
By the time you return to the castle, it's already dark and you're tired. You want to curl up in your bed and hear about Susan and Hannah's day. 
But something stops you in your way when you pass a dorm. A whiney, feminine voice comes from Malcolm's room. Gladys. "For how long do you have to pretend to like that stuck-up brat?"
You inch closer to the door and peer between the crack. Malcolm and Gladys are on his bed, her between his legs and they're pecking each other's lips, naked. Your chest tightens at this display of intimacy Malcolm never wanted to show you. Too 'old-school'. Or so he claimed.
Malcolm hums. "I know, Pookie. But next year I'm graduated and I want a good job. If I manage to sit it out any longer Mr Hufflepuff might recommend me for a good position at the Ministry."
Anger bubbles from within you and you turn around, marching out of the common room. You ignore the calls of your name and keep on walking until you're outside and on one of the old defence walls of the school. Your thinking spot.
It doesn't hurt that he is cheating on you. You weren't blind. What hurts is that he is using you to get further in life. He's just like the others. 
Your shoulders tense up at the sound of someone making them up the stairs and the smell of cigarettes. Great. You really need him to bother you right now.
Mattheo halts once he spots you sitting between the battlements, your feet dangling off the edge. He blows out a puff of smoke before sitting next to you. Out of politeness, he offers his cigarette. He doesn't expect you to accept it and take a drag.
"I didn't know you smoked", muses Mattheo as he watches you blow out the smoke mesmerised.
You glance at him while giving the cigarette back. "I don't."
The two of you stay silent, neither of you wanting or knowing what to talk about. Until it's Mattheo who breaks the silence. "What has the pretty Princess so stressed?"
"I'm not stressed." You opt to ignore the princess part for your sanity.
"Sure. And I can't talk to snakes. You're destroying your nailbeds", he points out and you look down. Your fingers are picking at the skin around your thumbnails. You've managed to make it bleed.
Sticking your thumb in your mouth to suck the blood away, you stare defiantly at the darkness that envelops the forbidden forest. "Malcolm's been cheating on me", you say after some contemplating, eyeing the Slytherin boy next to you.
Mattheo raises one brow unimpressed. "What?", he asks when you give him a look, "do I have to act surprised?" He dramatically fake gasps. "Oh, my Merlin! He did not!" He impersonates an American Valley Girl while covering his mouth with his hand.
You roll your eyes annoyed. Of course, you shouldn't have brought up the subject to Mattheo fucking Riddle. "Forget it if you're going to be a dick about it." You push yourself up and dust off your hands.
But Mattheo's hand around your wrist stops you and he leans back, his eyes somewhat apologetic. "No, don't go. I'm sorry. How did you find out?"
This time you raise your eyebrows. Mattheo Riddle never apologises. What in the... 
Against your better judgment, you sit back, your hands folded in your lap. "I just came back and I heard him talk about it with Gladys. How he wants my dad to give him a good job when he graduates." You take a deep breath, the nicotine tickling your nose. "I had a hunch he was fooling around with her. But using me, that hurts, you know?" 
He nods as you glance at him. Mattheo knows. He, just like you, is used to people only talking to or befriending him because they want something from him. They think getting in his good graces gets them somewhere. Absolutely not.
"You knew?"
You hum. Your fingers start to attack your nailbeds again as you think back to the many times you've had to bite your tongue. To keep face in front of the others at school. "I needed someone to keep my parents off my back. My parents expect all of us to have a steady partner by our sixth year. My siblings did it, but only the oldest actually had a girlfriend. The twins just told me to find someone to play the part."
A groan escapes you as you bury your hands in your face. "And now someone will rat to their parents about my break-up, who in turn tell my parents and then I'll get a stern letter about my future. This whole break-up is more an irritation than a heartache."
The Slytherin boy next to you is deadly silent. Why would you be so stupid to air your grievance to him? It's not like he cares. Standing up for real this time, you give him a curt nod. "Thank you for listening, Riddle. Best not to mention our meet-up with anyone, alright? Goodnight." 
You make your way back towards your dorm and crash into your bed. Pressing your face against your pillow, you try your hardest to forget today.
But as suspected, sleep doesn't come easily. Or not at all. And you feel like a zombie walking towards breakfast, your friends giving you worried looks after you explained what happened last night — minus the Mattheo part. 
"I swear if one more busybody comes up to you to say they're sorry", grumbles Hannah as she gives the students around you glares. She balls up her fists and punches the air in front of her. You and Susan chuckle while students around you look at her weirdly.
It's the worst when you enter the Great Hall. The general breakfast noise quiets as your peers start to whisper when you pass them. You keep your eyes focused on a far-off point until you are at your usual breakfast spot.
The three of you eat mostly in silence. Hannah and Susan try to engage you in a conversation but you just play with your food. 
"Can we talk?"
You tense up and drop your fork. Slowly, you turn around and look up at Malcolm. He has a guilty look on his face and it angers you. "I don't know. Can we?" You cock your head condescendingly to the side.
You turn back around and start abusing the piece of toast on your plate. Malcolm lays a hand on your shoulder but it gets promptly ripped off by Hannah. "I strongly advise you to back off."
Malcolm scoffs, looking down at the girl who stands protective in front of you. "Or what? Can't I speak with my girlfriend?"
You slowly rise and turn around to face the prick. "Don't speak to her like that, you insufferable twat. You best believe my dad will make sure you won't get a job anywhere in the Ministry, not even as a wand polisher", you bare your teeth, your chest raising rapidly. The Great Hall has fallen silent, watching the exchange.
"You little bitch." Malcolm's jaw ticks and he balls a fist. But the voice of a teacher stops him.
"Mister Preece, I would strongly advise you to step away from Miss Hufflepuff if you don't want to lose your position on the Quidditch team." Professor McGonagall comes striding from the teacher's table, where they could have seen the interaction between the two of you clear as day.
Malcolm's eyes flicker from you towards the professor and back. "This isn't over", he grumbles before leaving the Great Hall.
"Thank you, Professor." You give the woman a small smile as you collect your schoolbag. She waves you away and you grab both Hannah and Susan's hands, dragging them out of the Great Hall, the stares the whole ordeal created starting to creep you out.
Hannah grumbles all the way towards Charms how's she going to 'beat his face in the next time he dares to look at you'. Susan and you share a look but you're glad you've got Hannah to look out for you.
It's again Hannah who sends glares around as the three of you take place at your usual spot — upper bench all the way at the end. That way the three of you can whisper among each other without bothering anyone.
The class goes as usual before a paper bird lands before you. You look surprised to the other side of the classroom. Mattheo Riddle is already looking at you and miming for you to unfold the bird.
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You raise your brows at his note. He has such a chicken-scratch handwriting.
"What is it?", asks Susan in a whisper, leaning closer to you to read the note. A soft gasp escapes her and she looks over at Mattheo. Who's eyes are still trained on you, by the way. "Since when are you and Mattheo Riddle sending notes to each other?!"
"Since never!", you hiss, "what time are we done today?"
Hannah looks up from her book. "Three. Why?" She snatches the note out of Susan's hands and her eyes trail over the words. "He needs to fix his handwriting, my brother in Christ. Is 'Fluxweed report' some kind of secret code?"
You snort and swat her chest, earning a smug smile from the girl.
"I think it's rather romantic", says Susan, the hopeless romantic that she is.
A grimace forms on your face. "What is so romantic about finishing a Herbology essay?"
Susan sighs exorbitantly as she rolls her eyes. "You're officially single now! Free to go and explore and find someone who you really like! Mattheo obviously has seen his chance and took it!"
You and Hannah look at Susan as if she just swallowed a flobberworm. She gives the two of you an exasperated look. "What?! Isn't it like so romantic if the two descendants of Hogwarts founders end up dating? I bet ten galleons that he asks you out on a Hogsmeade date."
You huff out a breath. "Fine. But if he ends up humiliating me I'm going to enjoy those ten galleons with all my heart. Now, what do I write him back?"
"Oh! You should ask to meet at those tables at the back of the library where nobody really comes. That way you two could really cosy up."
You turn towards Hannah, feeling betrayed. "I thought you were with me on this?"
Hannah shrugs. "I'm always down for some drama. Besides, he has been staring at you and I always wondered when he would make his move."
"Since when has Mattheo Riddle been staring at me?", you ask genuinely shocked.
"Since like forever! He always manages to look away just in time. You were also too busy with him who we won't name. Bad joojoo."
You ignore Hannah's observation and pen an answer back.
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You wait to send it towards him when Flitwick isn't looking before chucking the balled-up paper towards the other side of the classroom and hitting him in the face.
You clasp a hand over your mouth while you and your friends stifle your laugh. Mattheo unfolds the paper, his eyes following every letter you wrote before he shows a thumbs up. 
"Dibs on being you guys' child's Godparent", whispers Susan with a grin and you elbow her in the ribs.
You try to bring your focus back to Flitwick, but you keep on glancing back at the curly-haired boy across the room. Has he some sort of plan to ask you so publicly to study? What is his motive? It can't only be studying, right?
Throughout the day you've grown quite nervous about meeting Mattheo. If it wasn't for your stupid friends and their stupid words you wouldn't have thought about this afternoon like any different from any other Herbology class. 
For Merlin's sake! You just broke up with your boyfriend and your friends are already pushing you onto the next. You wanted to take it slow for a while and enjoy the rest of your year without the worry of having to please a guy!
You fix your hair and uniform behind a bookcase as you see Mattheo already sitting at the table. With a curt breath and nod to yourself, you walk up to the table and take place in front of him. "Hi. Sorry if you've been waiting for long." You send him a small smile as you grab your book and notebook out of your bag. "It takes more time than I imagined to get from Divignation to here."
Mattheo gives you a half-smile and waves away your apologies. "Don't worry. I just got here too actually. So... what needed to be in that essay again?"
The two of you work together surprisingly well. If Mattheo isn't throwing his snide remarks around anyway. You also don't feel the need to be as snappy as you usually are with him. It's actually... nice? For once. 
As you're writing the last part of the essay, you feel his eyes on you. You look back up and raise your brows, silently asking what his deal is.
"I was thinking", he begins.
You let out a chuckle. "That's dangerous."
Ignoring your quip, he continues, "you need your parents off your back, right? And I imagine that you would like to smite Preece after that embarrassing stunt he pulled this morning."
You lean back with your eyes narrowed. "I wouldn't quite call it that. But continue."
Mattheo licks his bottom lips as he instead leans close to you, his voice softening. "Go out with me. Just a couple of dates so that you're seen with me. You know it will drive him nuts seeing you move on so quick."
You contemplate it for a moment or two. He is right. Malcolm always was a bit too paranoid for your taste when you talked with a boy. 
He hums. "So you agree?"
"What do you out of it? This all is a bit too suspicious."
He laughs and he runs his tongue over his teeth. "You don't believe me that I'm just content with having a pretty girl by my side?" When you shake your head he grins. "Smart girl. Maybe by 'dating' you, it will pull Preece's attention away from Quidditch and they'll lose the cup."
"So I'm sabotaging my own house?", you muse, your eyes flickering between his own.
Something seems to falter inside Mattheo's eyes for a second before a teasing smile grows on his face. "Well, you can't have everything princess."
Huming, you fall back into your chair. "Sure. When and where will our first 'date' be?", you use air quotations when you say date.
"I've heard that Saturday is going to be a sunny day."
"Sure. Eleven okay? We could meet up in the Clocktower courtyard. That way a lot of people see us leave together."
And with that, quite casually, your totally not fake date with Mattheo Riddle is agreed.
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Taglist (bold means I couldn't tag you): @mylosz0 @kermits-bitch
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storiesfromafan · 1 month
Text
The Waltz
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A/N: yes I am back with Part 3 (Dance Class 101 and Beautiful Swan). I have to say I've enjoyed writing this small series, and have enjoyed the comments.
I also want to thank everyone who has followed this story blog, I cant believe I have got 326 followers!!
Also, don't hesitate to request stories. Sometimes it helps with my writing block lol.
@littlebookbengal @bewitchingbrie @anehkael -unfortunatly I couldnt take a few people :(
The Waltz
The booming voice of Professor Dumbledore in welcoming all to The Yule Ball. Gathering with other couples, you and Lorenzo watched the Professor with everyone else. Dumbledore spoke about the ball and how it was a tradition that is kept up to bring Hogwarts, Beauxbatons Academy and Durmstrang Institute together. And it did bring you all together. Besides most of the males of Hogwarts being intimidated of the male’s students from Drumstrang, the female students from Beauxbatons had taken to the females of Hogwarts.
               Once Dumbledore was finished, he introduced each of the school’s champions. They all entered in a line, before coming to stop in the open space of the dance floor. They opened The Yule Ball with the first dance for the night. You and Lorenzo sniggered at Harry Potter and his date, the only couple to stick out like a sore thumb.
“Looks like old mate has two left feet” commented your friend.
               You snort laughed. “Don’t be so mean Enzo” you hit his arm softly.
               You both went back to watching as your professor’s joined in. Of course, Snape and the female professor, who had been your dancing instructors, paired up and took to the floor. You and Lorenzo held it together as best you could. The female professor still looked like she wanted to run for the hills, while Snape was as rigid as ever. Only now the rest of the students got to bare witness to what the Slytherin students had been privy to for two weeks. You heard the whispers and the sniggers at Snape’s expense.
               Once the dance was over, Snape left the dance floor in a sweep of his cloak, his dance partner moving off in the opposite direction. The champions all took their leave of the floor, while other students braved the dance floor.
               Lorenzo shot you a smirk before taking your hand and dragging you to the floor. All the while you softly protested, which he chose to ignore. Coming to a spot on the floor, Lorenzo stopped and swiftly turned to face you. You on the other hand, staggered for a moment from his motions. But quickly you corrected yourself, standing tall shooting your date a glare.
               The live band started up with the perfect melody for the dance you were all about to partake in, The Foxtrot. It was the second dance Snape taught Slytherin, it was easier to learn then The Waltz. Which made you wonder why he hadn’t started with that dance. Oh well, you had learned the steps in the end.
               “Ready?” Asked Lorenzo.
               You continued to glare. “No”.
               He chuckled. “Well, you better get ready”.
               And with that you both began to move along with the music, Lorenzo leading you around the floor in a medium tempo. At first your steps were unsure and a little sloppy, but after a little bit, you got comfortable and confident in your steps. And before long you and Lorenzo were moving smoothly around the floor. Lorenzo shot you a knowing smile, which you rolled your eyes at but none the less you sported a beaming smile.
               Like the other students, Mattheo and Daphne watched on. Mattheo’s gaze following your every movement. He felt jealousy rise as he watched Lorenzo smile at you, to which you rolled your eyes but gave him a happy smile. That should have been him out there with you. Smiling at each other and laughing. But instead, it was his good friend with you.
               “Who would have thought Enzo would pity (Y/N/N) enough to be her date?” Remarked Theodore as he came to stand next to Mattheo.
               “I don’t think it was pity” retorted Mattheo. “He did it out of friendship. Enzo cared about her to give her a good night”.
               Theodore shot his friend a bored look. “Whatever, he was the idiot to give up a night with any willing girl. What to ditch and hang out somewhere else?”
               Feeling appalled by his mate’s words, Mattheo got serious. “He’s not an idiot. Enzo chose a friend over some conquest. He always cares about a person’s wellbeing”.
               Theodore laughed with a hand up. “Alright, alright. Don’t need to get your knickers in a knot. It’s fine they came together, happy?”
               Mattheo huffed turning back to you on the dance floor. He could see Theodore looking at him, then to you and Lorenzo, and then back to him. A look of recognition flashed on his face before he chuckled.
               “How did I miss it” he mused, “how did I miss your crush on (Y/N/N)?”
               Mattheo looked shock, looking to his date, who was busy chatting with Theodore’s date. He then turned to his friend and said in a lower voice, “you’re wrong. I don’t have a crush on (Y/N/N)”.
               Theodore laughed. “Lie all you like mate, I can see it plain as day now. And quite frankly, it took you long enough”.
               Mattheo shot his friend a confused look.
               Theodore laughed hard. “Wow, come on I’ve known you a long time. I could see how close you and (Y/N/N)’s had gotten. I just thought you’d had worked it out by now. Both Lorenzo and I could see how you both were crushing on each other, even have a bet going on who would confess first”.
               Shock and surprise crossed Mattheo’s face. You, crushing on him? No surely, they were mistaken. Not once had you ever shown any interest in him in that way. You never flirted, never dropped hints, never jealous of other girls. You had always seemed uncaring and uninterested.
               “You’re wrong” Mattheo began, “(Y/N/N) doesn’t have a crush on me. She’s never shown signs of liking me like that”.
               Once more Theodore laughed. “Oh, my friend how wrong you are. That beautiful creature out there” – he pointed in the direction of you on the dance floor – “does have a crush on you. And just because you haven’t seen the signs, I can assure you that Enzo and I have”.
               Mattheo shook his head, not once taking his eyes off you.
               “I can tell you firsthand that the look in her (colour) eyes when you would bring your latest conquest around the group, the evident hurt in those eyes as she watches you together. Or how she would ‘off handedly’ help you study, when really, she wanted to be near you. Probably hoped you would read between the lines of all her help to see that she did like you more than a friend. You my friend have been oblivious to how she show’s her feelings, as you are used to girls throwing themselves at you”.
               If Theodore was right, then Mattheo had made a mistake, a big one. If he had been able to read you better, then he wouldn’t have had a reason to hold back his feelings. It would have been he who had escorted you to The Yule Ball. It would be him out there dancing with you, smiling and laughing.
               Theodore clapped Mattheo on the back. “If I was you, I’d come up with a plan to get to (Y/N/N) and sweep her off her feet. Or else she might fall for Enzo instead”.
               With that Theodore took his date and left Mattheo to his thoughts. Daphne brought him back when she asked when they would dance. He winced at the idea; his poor feet would hate him if he danced with her. Dancing, that was it. With a few words to Daphne that they would dance soon, the cogs in Mattheo’s head were turning, a plan coming together.
               The song came to an end, you and Lorenzo stepped back from each other before bowing and curtsying to the other. Coming to fully stand once more, you both shot the other a warm smile. Lorenzo then took your arm before leading you from the dance floor, and over to a space by the wall. You both took the moment to cool off.
               “I had my reserves about dancing but thank you for dragging me against my will. It was fun”.
               He laughed. “You are welcome, any time I would happily drag you to dance”. Lorenzo winked at you, making you laugh.
               Lorenzo smile at you before his attentions turned elsewhere. “How about I get us some drinks. I’ll be right back”.
               Before you could say a word, your friend walked off, leaving you a little confused but looking forward to some refreshments. You decided to lean against the wall, hands resting behind your back and against the cool stone wall. It was grounding, the coolness against your warm flesh. Your eyes roamed over the room. You noticed couples and groups in conversation. Those on the dance floor that were strong dancers compared to those that were trying their best.
               Finally, you spotted Lorenzo with drinks in hand, but it was the person walking next to him that he was in deep conversation with that made you stand up straight. He was talking with Mattheo, and they looked to be quite serious. But just as quick had you seen them, did Mattheo part from your date. What had they been discussing, you wondered.
               Joining you once more, Lorenzo held out a cup with punch in it, you accepted the cup and took a gracious sip. Once the cup left your lips you turned your gaze back to your date, studying him. You wanted to question him, find out what led to their talking or what Mattheo had to say. So, you decided to just go for it.
               “What did Mattheo want?”
               “Hm?” Lorenzo asked before taking a sip from his cup.
               “I saw you two talking before you came back with my drink. What did he want?” It might have sounded rude, but you were dying to know. Though it went against your not caring mantra for the night.
               “Mattheo? Oh, he was just commenting on the dancing. Thought we looked good” Lorenzo said off handedly turning to watch those on the dance floor, while leaning against the wall.
               “Oh really? Is that so?” You questioned further.
               “Mmhmm, said you looked graceful. And had a glow about you. Which he’s not wrong about” he laughed.
               You nudged his shoulder with your own. You left it that. Your heart swelled at Lorenzo’s words. Mattheo had complimented you. You felt the soft smile form on your lips at the compliment. But then reality set in. You were at the ball with Lorenzo, not Mattheo. He had chosen to take Daphne Greengrass and was probably having a wonderful time. He was probably being nice with his compliment. Possibly a ploy to get back in your good graces. The smile slipped from your face, the hallow feeling returning to your chest in realisation.
               Silence rolled over you both as you continued to watch those around you and on the dance floor. Soon time slowly passed before Lorenzo moved from the wall, taking your empty cups, and setting them down on a table off to the side. He shot you a bright smile before holding out his hand to you.
               “May I have the next dance my lady?”
               You laughed. “Why yes good sir, for this time you did ask me”. And placed your hand in his.
               Lorenzo led you to stand with those spectating the dancing students. You both stood there waiting for the current dance to end, so that you both could join the next dance. With the final notes of the song, the students on the floor stopped, bowed, and curtseyed to each other before vacating the dance floor. Sharing a look, you and your friend took to the floor, along with four other couples. Standing before your partner, it was the movement from the left side that caught your attention.
Making their last-minute appearance on the floor, both Mattheo and Daphne moved over to stand on your right side. You felt your body stiffen at the sight of them, a sight you had done best to stay clear of. But here they were, shoving it front of you. With the first few notes, you placed your left hand on Lorenzo’s right shoulder while his right hand was placed against your side, his left-hand taking hold of your right hand. Now you were ready to begin The Waltz.
Just like in dance class, Lorenzo led while you followed. You both followed the steps, graceful in your movements on the dance floor. Out the corner of your eye you would see Mattheo and Daphne, your heart sinking further from it. Moving to hold your head high you reminded yourself to not care about them. You didn’t need him.
Lorenzo shot you a warm smile, that you returned. “Forgive me or thank me later”.
You shot him a look of confusion before finishing the square, he then proceeded to turn you out before letting go of your hand. You wanted to protest to whatever he was doing, but the feeling of a hand taking hold of your own and spun you in to face the one person you were trying to forget. Mattheo moved you into position, without a thought you moved your left hand to his shoulder. Confusion written all over your face at what was happening.
Your gazed moved back to your original dance partner, who was now dancing with a confused and irritated Daphne Greengrass. Lorenzo looked to be talking to her, possibly an attempt to calm down the girl. You looked back to Mattheo, who wore a mischievous grin on his face. All the while you both moved in time with the music, steps just as graceful as you had been dancing with Lorenzo.
“What is going on?” You questioned with a sharp tone. “Why am I dancing with you?”
Mattheo chuckled. “I thought we should dance, and since you aren’t talking to me. I got Lorenzo to help me get my dance”.
You glared at the boy before you. “You had no right to swap me from my date”.
“Oh? I think Enzo didn’t mind” he retorted.
“Well, I mind. Not that you care”.
The look of hurt in Mattheo’s eyes at your words wounded you. Any time he was upset hurt you, and the need to cheer him up would kick in. But not this time. You were still hurting from what he has done. Mattheo needed to learn a lesson.
He sighed. “I’m sorry for stealing you away. But you have to admit you have avoided me. You aren’t talking to me”.
“And there’s a reason for that” you fired back looking him right in the eyes. “Until you work out what you done and what you need to do to fix it, I will continue to not talk to you”.
Silence rolled over you both after that. You had said what you had too. Mattheo knew exactly what you were talking about. He knew he had to step up and apologise, which is what he wants to do. He just wasn’t sure how to do it. He was worried he wouldn’t say the right words, and it would only make things worse.
You both continued to move in time with the music, fluid movements filling the remaining time with Mattheo. Without talking you took in the boy before you, now that you have a closer opportunity. Since arriving at the ball, his hair was now messy. Mattheo must have absented mindedly ran his hand through his brown curly locks, something he done when in thought. He had also loosened the tie around his neck, and the jacket of his dress robes unbuttoned. You could have laughed at the untidy appearance, but held it in.
As the song started its descent to an end, you both moved in a square one more time. Only the grip Mattheo held tightened, almost drawing you closer. Mattheo moved his left foot forward, as you stepped back on your right. He then moved his right foot forward, while you moved your left foot backwards. Then you both moved those feet to the side, before bringing their partnering feet to meet with them. Mattheo then led you as be moved his right foot back, as you moved your left foot forward. Then he moved his left foot backwards, while you brought your right foot forward, both moving them to the side and then closing with its partnering feet. Thus, completing the square.
Reluctantly Mattheo loosens his hold on you, as he stepped back. You step back from his hold, your hands coming to rest at your sides. Looking each other in the eyes, you see something unfamiliar flash in his eyes. But he bows to you, cutting eye contact. In a daze of mixed emotions, you curtsy back.
With reality coming back, you felt like there was no air in the room. Standing back up you try to take a deep breath but struggled. Feeling a panic rising in you, you gather up your skirt and quickly move from the dance floor and out of The Great Hall. It was all too much. You would rather have kept Mattheo at arm’s length.
That’s funny, as you just did. Your mind taughtened you. For you had just been dancing at arm’s length.
Exiting into a courtyard not far from The Great Hall, you held your head in your hands while taking a deep breath of cold fresh air. Releasing it slowly, you tried to work out what just happened. Your heart ached with a mix of happy and sad. Your mind a mess from all that has happened so far tonight. The one thing ringing in your mind was Mattheo, the one person who hurts you so much. Even if it was unintentionally.
“Bloody hell!” Huffed an all too familiar voice. “Why did you take off (Y/N/N)?!”
Mattheo had been oblivious of your leaving the dance floor till Lorenzo called out to him. Upon seeing your form missing before him, Lorenzo pointed in the direction you had taken off. And he took off in chase, not second guessing the choice to follow you. He heard Daphne call his name, but no doubt Lorenzo stopped her and would entertain her a little longer. All Mattheo worried about was you.
He watched you quickly walk before him; he did call out to you, but you ignored him. Coming to the entrance to the courtyard, he was greeted with the sight of you, standing with your back to him with hands on your head while looking up breathing slowly. Something told him it was some level of anxiety that had you making an escape. But he couldn’t help huffing out what he said to you.
“Matty…” you sighed. “Please, leave me be. Go back to the ball” you practically pleaded. It broke his heart.
“Talk to me” he took a step closer before stopping himself.
You laughed at his words. “There is nothing to talk about…not until you work out what you did”.
“I know what I did…” he said softly. “I’ve known since it happened”.
Your hands dropped from your head, slowly you turned around to face him with a hurt look upon your face. It hurt him to see you like this, it felt like that hurt was more than just from the other week’s hang out. You didn’t say anything, waiting for the boy before you to continue.
Mattheo took a deep breath, readying himself. “What Theodore said to you, how…pathetic” – he struggled to get the word out – “people would think you were if you didn’t have a date. And I am so sorry for agreeing with him”.
“Why did you agree with him then?” You questioned, guarding yourself to try and save yourself.
Mindlessly Mattheo ran a hand through his curls. “I was stupid. I didn’t want Theodore to turn his sights on me, teasing and running me down. But I hurt you instead. The one person who I hold close”.
The one person who I hold close… You felt warmth rise in you, but you told yourself it was because you were friends. That is all.
“Don’t say that” you pleaded, “don’t say you hold me close. It only gets my hopes up” you said softly, tears pricking your eyes.
Without a thought, Mattheo crossed over to stand before you. He wrapped his hands around your upper arms softly, subconsciously making sure you wouldn’t run from him again. Concern washed over his face as he looked you in the eyes. Everything Theodore said coming back to him.
“You are the one person I hold close (Y/N), you are the only person to be there for me. To help me study, to check on my mental state, to kick my ass if I step out of line” he chuckled. “Don’t ever doubt how highly I think of you”.
You shook your head. “I’m not that good a person…”
“Yes, you are” he pulled you closer to him. “Why do you say you aren’t?”
This was it, the moment of make or break.
“My intentions weren’t always innocent…” you started looking him deep in the eyes. “Sure, we are friends but over time things…changed. And I wanted more of your time”.
“Well, all you had to say was you wanted to spend more time with me” Mattheo butted in.
You shook your head. “Not like that…I saw how you were with other girls. Flirting and being your charming self. I was jealous of them. Then you would bring them around the group, lessening my time with you because you were focused on them”.
Mattheo swallowed. Hating to hear how you felt. Knowing he only did it to distract himself from you.
“Then this ball happened. Stupid me hoping, wishing you would ask me. That’s why in the courtyard I hinted at going on my own. Again, hoping you would ask me. But you asked Daphne…I wasn’t going to come tonight, you know?”
Hearing how you hoped for him to ask you was like a punch to the gut, bringing the guilt he felt back full force. “I-I didn’t know…” Mattheo breathed, hands dropping from your arms in thought.
That movement hit you hard, making you think he was pulling back from you. That he didn’t care for you. You felt a tear escape and make its way down your face, feeling rejected. Your shoulders started to shake while you tried to hold back the tears. Mattheo looked to you, only to see you shake. Thinking you were cold; Mattheo quickly removed his jacket before wrapping it around your shoulders. He pulled the jacket tight in front of you, you looked to the boy in confusion. He on the other hand looked at you with worry and care. Silently he was waiting for you to continue.
“Yeah…well I wasn’t going too; Enzo didn’t even know. But when I spoke to him earlier, I couldn’t bring myself to say I was not going. I didn’t expect him to offer to be my date, but I am grateful he did. He has made tonight bearable”.
Jealousy flashed in Mattheo’s eyes. But they softened when he saw a tear escape your eye, your second tear, before bringing his hand up and gently wiped it away. Both of you looked at the other, savouring this moment. Mattheo moved to cup your cheek with his hand, without missing a beat you leant into the warmth, all the while never breaking eye contact. Without missing a beat, Mattheo leant in and tenderly kissed your lips.
The kiss was gentle, innocent. He noted how soft your lips were, and a tad cold from the night air. Reluctantly, he pulled back and observed your reaction. Shock evident on your adorable face.
“Forgive me (Y/N/N). Forgive me for flirting and entertaining other girls, for parading them around you. Forgive me for spending less time with you, and for agreeing with Theordore’s idiotic notions” Mattheo confessed and pleaded. “And, most of all, forgive me for not being your date tonight. As I would have rather spent my night with you, then anybody else”.
You searched his eyes, looking for any sign that him or his words weren’t genuine. But all you saw was sadness, begging and hope. Not what you would usually see with the Slytherin heart throb. He was baring his all to you, and only you. So, you made your decision.
You raised up on your tippy toes, one hand grasping at Mattheo’s shirt, before you lent in to kiss him. As soon as your lips touched his, he knew you forgave him. No words were needed at this point. He leant down, releasing you from the uncomfortable position of standing on your tippy toes. Mattheo pressed his lips firmer to your own, but not enough it hurt. Soon he slowly pulled back, taking in the tender look upon your face, as you opened your eyes, that you don’t remember closing.
“I have liked you for years now” Mattheo said softly, afraid being too loud would burst this bubble around you both. “But I have been scared you didn’t like me, or it would ruin our friendship”.
You softly smiled at him, understanding how he felt. “I have liked you for years too…”
A bright smile formed on his sinful lips. “Then let us rectify it, what do you say?”
All you could do was nod your head. And once more Mattheo leant in and captured your lips, only this time it was a little more ungraceful. Which made you laugh. And to retaliate to your laughter did the boy before you poke your sides, making you squeal in dislike. Before long he was chasing you around the courtyard, you trying to escape his pokes and tickling. When he finally caught you, Mattheo spun you around before drawing you close.
That was the moment you knew you would have to thank Lorenzo. And it was the start of your personal relationship with Mattheo Riddle.
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yeah, mattheo might beat a guy’s face in for upsetting you
but you’d cast an unforgivable curse to protect him, no hesitation
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papercorgiworld · 2 months
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Toxicity
The dark lord’s favourite always gets what she wants
You use your influence with the dark lord to get a certain someone to behave.
Theo Nott and Mattheo Riddle imagine
Warning: toxic reader, crucio, bit angsty? and suggestiveness
Quick post forecast: today, we’ve got toxic Thursday with Theo and Matt, tomorrow it’s flirty Friday with Enzo and if all goes well we’ll have a smutty Saturday.
Tumblr wouldn’t let me insert the pictures in text, which makes me so sad. 🥺 Sorry, you’ll have to scroll down, I hope I can fix it later… Fixed it!!!! anyways happy readings!
Requested part 2
Theodore Nott
The dark lord smiled with genuine admiration for your work as you handed him Merlin’s spell book. “I knew you wouldn’t disappoint me, you never do. Like your parents you know what loyalty means.” You nod and he continues. “If there’s anything I can do to show my gratitude, please let me know.” You shake no, pretending like you didn’t already have something in mind when you entered his office.
After a few seconds you speak up. “Actually, there might be something, a little annoying matter that I can’t seem to manage myself.” His silence is his way of telling you to state your wish. “There’s a guy in my year, he never shows me any respect. Belittles me all the time. Yesterday, he even stole from me. I can’t do anything about it, Dumbledore doesn’t allow students to curse one another.”
The dark lord circles around you, listening attentively. He already has his suspicions, but nevertheless asks: “His name?” You meet Tom Riddle's eyes. “Theodore Nott.”
Without warning he points his wand to the door and it slams open. “Theodore, join us.” Every hair on Theo’s body raises as soon as he hears his name, but calmly follows orders. Theo’s eyes immediately land on you and a scowl forms on his face, this can’t be good. “I’ve been told your behavior isn’t what it should be.” Theodore’s eyes darken. “Whatever she said is a lie.” The dark lord snaps his head at Theo, not pleased with how he talks about his favorite. “Crucio!” Your eyes widen as Theodore falls to his knees, reaching for a nearby table to keep himself from fully collapsing. “I think his behavior will now drastically improve.” You nod and the dark lord turns towards Theodore. “Return what you stole and don’t leave this room until you’re forgiven.”
As soon as you and Theo are alone he looks up at you with hatred. “You are vile.” You simply grin. “If I were you I would change your tone and maybe throw in a few compliments.” Theodore pulls his eyes away from you. You were probably right. His orders were clear, you had to leave this room happy or whatever was waiting for him would be worse than the curse he had already suffered.
Now that he’s standing again you slowly walk towards him and he quietly stares at you bottling up his anger. “I want my essay back.” You demand. He huffs, but you quirk an eyebrow reminding him to behave. Theo takes a deep breath as he surrenders and reaches for the inside pocket of his jacket. “Here’s the essay you wrote based on my idea.” He offers you the paper and a content smirk tugs on your lips. Theo turns around, pleased to be done with you, but you grab his arm pulling him back.
“You aren’t forgiven yet.” You remind him. “How about you start with a little ‘I’m sorry’.” You suggest, making him close the distance between you two and tower over you. You try to hide the fact that you’re a little intimidated and bravely look him in the eyes. “I won’t apologize.” You lick your lips patiently. “I’m not responsible for what happens to you if you leave this room unforgiven. The dark lord might see you as an unloyal freeloader who only follows orders when it fits him.” Theodore balls his fists as his frustration with you peaks. You want to say something more, but Theo won’t let you. He forcefully grabs your chin and pushes you against the desk behind you. “I won’t apologize to you.” The boiling hate in his voice is undeniable and honestly you don’t blame him. He started playing games with you without knowing how dirty you play and now his ego’s was taking some serious damage. You speak through gritted teeth as Theo’s hold on your chin stays. “If you aren’t going to use that mouth of yours for apologizing, you better put it to good use elsewhere.”
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Theodore jaw clenches and he stares at you debating his options, but you know him better than he knows himselfs. Your core is aching for what is to come. “Fine.” Theo spits as he surrenders to your will, but not without being an arrogant ass about it. With one harsh move he spreads your legs and you grip the desk behind you for support. Your smug grin is irresistible to Theodore, but he’ll never let you know how turned on he gets so he keeps his eyes dark as he slides down on you.
Mattheo Riddle
You are part of the Slytherin friend group but you know that Mattheo isn’t too fond of you. He’s always ridiculing you for something stupid. It was like his hobby was getting on your nerves. However, you’ve had enough of it and tonight his attitude was going to change. You had managed to get your hands on Merlin’s spell book before Mattheo and were currently handing it over to a very pleased Tom Riddle.
“Your extraordinary effort for our cause is admirable and doesn’t go unnoticed by me.” Mattheo rolled his eyes, but kept quiet as he sat at a table with the Malfoys. The dark lord wrapped his arm around you pulling you into a cold but appreciative hug, while whispering. “Anything you wish, my dear?” You look over at Mattheo, but as soon as your eyes meet he looks away and you can’t help but smirk. Softly you whisper something to Tom, making Mattheo look back up with anxious eyes. “Unappreciative, you say?” You nod. “And disrespectful.” You add and the dark lord seems to get more agitated. With a dramatic calmness he points his wand at the table, making everyone’s face flash with terror.
Suddenly, the quiet room is interrupted by a loud smack as Mattheo’s face is forced against the table by a spell. The emotional pain is just as visible as the blood dripping from his nose. With fuming rage and yet a stern calmness his father makes his way to the table, while every other person looks down in an attempt to hide their fear. The dark lord grabs Mattheo’s face forcing him to make eye contact. “You do not mistreat my dear (y/n). She’s loyal. A woman like her should be appreciated and pampered. From now on you’ll be good to her. Understood?”
The grip on his face is too strong for Mattheo to properly nod, but his eyes tell his father everything he needs to know. Mattheo will comply with everything the dark lord demands. When Tom releases Mattheo he looks up at you and you sincerely bow to show your gratitude and respect, thereby affirming your spot as favorite.
After the world’s most uncomfortable meeting you’re pleased to wander the hallways in solitude. You spot Mattheo cleaning his face through the half opened bathroom door and you stop to watch him. When your eyes lock in the reflection of the mirror his whole body tenses, but this doesn’t stop him from giving you a scowl. This makes your pity for him ebb away. You take a few confident strides and join him, taking the cloth from him to clean his face. “He could’ve done worse.” Your words just make him scoff. “Is my pain and humiliation not enough amusement for you?” He grabs your hand telling you to stop, you try but fail to get out of his grip and his attitude starts to frustrate you. “Stop whining, Riddle, and let go of me or I’ll go crying to your dad again.” Mattheo’s jaw clenches, but he reluctantly releases your hand allowing you to clean and heal him.
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After you’ve fixed him up you both make your way back to the other guests. When you enter the room Mattheo is quick to leave you a few steps behind, searching for his friends, but one disappointed and contemptible look from his father makes Mattheo instantly turn back towards you. To your surprise he’s quick to snake an arm around you. You glare at Mattheo for being so obvious about only being nice to you to save himself. “I’m not feeling really appreciated.” Mattheo rolls his eyes at your words, while leaning in to whisper through gritted teeth. “You expect a lot of love and appreciation from a man who never gets any himself.” You look at his dark eyes, while they dart around you. “Just tell me what you want and you’ll have it.” You lay your hand on his cheek forcing him to make eye contact. “Take me to your room and fuck me.” You demand, surprising Mattheo. His harsh and frustrated eyes turn softer as he realises you might not be as unreasonable as he thought.
A/N: Typo’s, grammatical errors, forgotten warnings, worries, disturbances, disastrous thoughts? Let me know, feedback is always welcome!
Picture source: https://pin.it/33fAo21Oe
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pizzaapeteer · 4 months
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FU in my head
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Pairings Mattheo Riddle x fem reader
Summary You can't stop fantasying about Mattheo in class. Word Count 1039 Notes: Hello! This is my first ever fic so please let me know what you think! I based the idea off the song FU in my mind by Cloudy June. The lyrics are highlighted in bold, and the daydreams in italics. Hope you enjoy, I had lots of fun writing it!
The chill of the stool sent a shiver up your spine as you tugged it out from under the tall desk. The scraping of metal echoed in the darkly lit potions room, students chatting amongst themselves. You sat down, slumping onto the desk, holding your face in your hands.
Scanning the room, your eager eyes couldn’t help but search for a certain Slytherin boy. You craned your neck awkwardly as you filtered through the students around you, hoping to catch a glimpse of him. It was the distinctive obnoxious laughter of his friends that captured your attention. Unfortunately, your view of Mattheo was blocked, only allowing you to see the back of his brown curls. You readjusted your neck, realising the desperate state you must look to be in. A quiet sigh escaped you as you reverted back to your propped up position, your chin in your hand. Even though your view was blocked, it did little to stop you thinking of him. In fact, it made a rather insignificant impact, as every intricate detail of his face was already etched in your mind. Blissfully, you found yourself captivated in your realm of sinful thoughts; your eyes fluttering shut as you let the fantasy consume you. Sometimes I fuck you in my head. His fingertips gently traced along your arms, caressing your skin. His hands cupped your chin. The harsh contact made you lift your eyes to meet his. His intense brown eyes tainted with lust consumed you, igniting a fiery passion deep within you. His soft lips crash, colliding with yours, a gasp slips past your lips in a gentle exhale. An interrupting cough brought you back to reality, your eyes opening to reveal the noisy classroom once again. As Professor Snape silenced the class sharply with a clap of his hands, you prayed your daydream wasn't evident on your face. Making an effort to pay attention, you listen to Snape's explanation on the lesson's agenda ahead. You willed your mind to concentrate on Snape's dull voice, trying to hold onto the details and determined to not be captivated by your temptations once again. It was comforting to know that at the very least, no one could read your mind. Unable to help yourself, your eyes darted towards Mattheo, and as if the thought caused the action, there’s the collision of your names, paired together. The ambience of students shifting seats had you subtly moving on your own, nervous to approach your assigned partner. Prolonging the walk to Mattheo's desk, a blush threatened to creep up your skin. Sitting beside him, your arm grazed his own—your anxiety intensifying at the mere touch. You snuck a glimpse at Mattheo, his expression one of boredom as he listened to Snape drawled on. His gaze drifted towards you and your eyes instantly averted, the movement of his hands caught your eye.  You inhaled a quiet breath as your eyes lingered, watching the veins on his hand flex, his fingers playing with his rings. The sudden movement of him reaching for his potions book, signalizing the end of Snape's speech drew you out of your sinful desires. You reluctantly made haste to grab your own book, swallowing a lump as his fingers slid over the paper. He paid no attention to you as you squeezed your thighs, your mind slipping back into your reverie. 
I wanna scream, but hold my breath. The kinda thing that you would rather leave unsaid. 
You bite your lip to contain the whimper threatening to escape, as cold metal ascends up your thigh. His fingers dance along your skin, inching towards the edge of your underwear. His hands halt, trapped between the constraint of your thighs. You glance down, his hands twitching in eagerness, and back up to him, flushing at the devious smirk spread on his face. 
Mattheo's low voice catches you off guard, causing your eyes to drift up to his face. You stare at him unaware of his words, a warmth creeping up your neck, increasing a flush along your skin. He notices your flustered appearance, his eyebrows raised, awaiting your answer.  
Sorry, I think I zoned out, can you say that again? I, I, I am stuttering every time that I'm catching your scent.
His eyes gleamed, a flicker of amusement shown, only to resume their stony demeanour. He spoke again, his voice tinged with annoyance repeating his words. The deepness of his voice along with his irritated tone sent a thrill down your body. Your legs ache at the pulsing pleasure descending down your body, thighs compressing together to ease the tension. You couldn't help how easily affected you were by him, your mind visualising unspeakable things. 
Your back pressed against the hardness of the brick, a gasp escaping your mouth from the collision. His hands scrambled frantically over your body, desperate to feel you. Wet kisses connect on your skin, tilting your head back exposing more of your neck to him. Moans slip from your mouth, your breath rapid. Mattheo mumbles praises to you as his hands explore under your skirt. Your eyes met his cocky grin, his hands expertly adjusting your underwear to expose more of yourself. You can't help but grin back as your fantasy dives in deeper. 
I got dirty wishes on my mind. But you will never ever know that I like to fuck you in my head. 
You shift your focus back to reality at the feel of a penetrating gaze on you. You turn your head to the onlooker, your eyes widening as you met Mattheo's brown eyes. You hold his gaze, his attention fuelling your confidence. Your eyes shift between his lips and eyes, chewing the inside of your cheek. His silence unnerved you, waiting in anticipation, your thighs twitched under his lingering gaze. When he says nothing, your eyes finally fall back to Snape as he dismisses the class. There are no words shared between you and Mattheo as you scramble to gather your possessions. You exit the classroom, not before glancing back once more, your heart racing seeing the cheeky smirk adoring his face. 
Do you feel it too? Are you as obsessed? Give me just a little sign and I'll confess.
Part 2 here
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berryzxx · 5 months
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Matheo Riddle Head canons
Takes AGESS to sleep, like literally stares at the ceiling for two hours to actually fall asleep unless your with him.( He'll fall asleep in 1 hour if your there 😏)
Is a light sleeper and wakes up even if you barely move
Has a resting bitch face. Is literally scaring people off left, right and centre
Likes to have his arm around your waist or shoulders when your walking together
ALWAYS complimenting you. Literally all the time. "You look gorgeous today" "You smell like fucking heaven"
Any time he hears a complaint or that your pissed off he will go out of his way to ask the person "Do we have a problem?"
Will always put something you like in your plate before serving himself
Loves calling you "princess"
Is smirking half the time your with him
He will literally get into two fights a week minimum (you have to stop him before he gets kicked out of the infirmary permanently)
Is really smart at potions and is always asking your opinion on who's better, him or Draco
You say Draco to annoy him (he won't kiss you until you say he's the best at potions) (literally lasts a day until he gives in)
Loves leaving hickeys/marks to show your TAKEN
Stands up for you even if your wrong. Will take the time to explain to you in private why you were wrong
Is literally carrying you from lessons to the quidditch pitch because he heard you say you were tired
When he can't sleep he'll trace your features really lightly, trying to memories you.
Says "I'd rather fucking die than not have you with me" on loudspeaker so everyone can hear. (Ofc everyone is jealous of your cute relationship.)
spends HOURS just listening to you rant and puts in his helpful advice/commentary
Your main source of gossip is Matheo because for some reason he knows everything
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slytherinslut0 · 4 months
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Theodore Nott. | that’s what i said.
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info: your boyfriend was telling you about his day, when he began speaking fluent Italian, knowing damn well you only knew select words. when you asked him to repeat it, he had you come sit on his lap and ended up doing a little more than just repeating it.
word count: 3k
tags: 18+, literally pure smut. pure lorenzo italian daddy type smut. lots of italian translation (apologies to all my italians out there if they’re a little off) lots of praise, riding, piv, dirty talk.
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Reclining across from you, Theodore Nott your lovely boyfriend, exuded an air of relaxed confidence while seated comfortably on the expansive leather couch in his dorm room. His legs were stretched wide, one arm casually draped over the armrest--each of his current mannerisms acting as physical testaments to the ease with which he inhabited the space.
As he delved into the narrative of his day, you, nestled in the love seat opposite him, eagerly absorbed the symphony of his voice. It was a melody that effortlessly traversed between English and Italian, a linguistic dance that had always held a special place in your heart.
His words held an irresistible charm, each syllable cascading like liquid honey off his tongue. The profound rasp of his voice, entwined with his seductive Italian accent stirred something indescribable within your body. The prospect of listening to him like this every day for the rest of your life fueled your anticipation, a certainty that the allure would never lose its magic. It was a sensation you eagerly anticipated, knowing that the richness of his voice would forever remain a timeless delight.
Yet, within the fluidity of his storytelling, Theodore suddenly shifted into Italian, weaving complete sentences with a gaze that lingered through half-lidded eyes, as if this linguistic transformation were the most natural thing in the world. Ordinarily, you might have interrupted him, gently reminding him of your language limitations, but today, well, you just couldn't bring yourself to do so.
You were almost in awe, unable to deny that there was an enchanting quality to the way the words curled off his tongue. That, coupled with the intensity of his stare, seemingly compelled you to stay silent, as if under a trance. You found yourself captivated, clinging to every indecipherable syllable, a familiar heat beginning to kindle between your thighs.
It was as if he momentarily lost himself in the labyrinth of his thoughts, forgetting, if only for an instant, that your understanding of the language was confined solely to select phrases and words. This linguistic detour left you with a quizzical frown, a silent plea for translation in the midst of his enchanting monologue, and finally, noting your confusion after what felt like ages, he paused, cocking a charming eyebrow at you.
"Something on your mind, Bella?" he teased, leisurely spreading his legs further as his gaze meandered from your eyes to your lips, only to return, locking onto your gaze once more. "You appear a touch...lost."
"Theo, I must confess--I haven't the slightest idea what you just said," you admitted, a playful pout gracing your lips. Your eyes sparkled with a blend of curiosity and mischief. "And I know you're well aware that was far beyond my linguistic expertise."
"All this time, and you still haven't mastered my language, Bella Mia..." Theo, with a dramatic flair, feigned a hurt expression, his stormy eyes widening ever so slightly. "You're truly breaking my heart."
Smirking, you teased, "forgive me, amore..."  your fingers traced an absent pattern on the armrest, a subtle invitation. "Please, feel free to repeat it--I love the way it sounds..."
A mischievous glint sparked behind his irises, a playful confidence dancing in their depths. With a self-assured grin, he patted his lap invitingly, his messy brown locks falling effortlessly over his forehead.
"Why don't you come over here," he suggested, his tone velvety, "and I'll gladly repeat it for you?"
Your grin widened, a flicker of anticipation igniting within you as you slowly rose from the chair, not needing a second thought. His burning stare followed your every move as you veered closer to him, an intensity in his eyes that set your senses ablaze without effort. As you approached, a slow, deliberate stride, the air thickened with a tangible tension, your pulse thumping in your throat.
No matter the duration of your relationship with Theo, each touch remained an electric encounter, perpetually reminiscent of the initial spark. His reverence for your body endured, a devotion that unfolded afresh with every caress, as if every moment were a new discovery for his hands and eyes.
Stalling in front of him, you giddily pulled your lip between your teeth as his hands found yours, guiding them to his shoulders as he pulled you down to straddle his lap. The warmth of his embrace enveloped you, his hands finding a natural place on your hips.
"Mm," he purred, burying his head in the crook of your neck, inhaling a sharp breath as his fingers dug into your skin. "So beautiful, Bella..."
You stifled a mewl as he pressed careless kisses along your neck, the playful banter giving way to a charged silence as his teeth softly grazed your pulse--the unspoken language between you both pulsating with desire and connection. The messy brown waves of his hair framed a face now tinged with a sultry charm, and the mischievous glint in his eyes promised a shared secret in the language only you two understood.
As if completely instinctively, you rolled your hips against his crotch, head falling back as his hands slid around to your ass, groaning against your neck as he aided your movements, guiding you back and forth against his growing bulge. You could already feel him throbbing beneath you, your cunt clenching in need for his touch as the only thing separating your heat from his groin was your thin layer of underwear, rubbing against his trousers.
"Ho voluto scoparti tutto il giorno..." he murmured, the same phrase he'd said earlier, the one in which you didn't understand. "...sei tutto ciò a cui riesco a pensare."
Your brows furrowed, about to question him, but exasperation quickly took over as he sank his teeth into your neck. He left vivid, possessive marks on your skin, his hands sliding up and under your skirt, tracing the supple contours of your ass. As you continued to move against him, a whirlwind of desire engulfed you, and you quickly lost yourself in the intoxicating rush.
"You're so fucking sexy," he breathed, his voice a low, deep murmur, reverberating a shudder of desire down your spine, his tongue trailing a flat stripe up the side of your throat. "Ho bisogno di te, mia bellissima piccola troia." (I need you, my beautiful little slut.)
"Theo..." you whimpered, your hands entwining in his hair, fingers weaving through his tousled auburn locks. His mouth ascended, planting tender, moist kisses along the ridge of your jawline. "Please-please-"
"Mm, you like that don't you, principessa?" His voice was a seductive purr, the words wrapping around you like silk as he pulled back a hand and gave you a sharp smack on your ass, eliciting an immediate squeal from your throat. "Tu ami grinding that dolce piccola figa on me like this, hm?..." (you love)(sweet little pussy)
In response to his words, an unabashed moan escaped your lips, louder than you had initially intended. Theo responded with a low growl, his free hand moving to your jaw, cradling it delicately as he guided your lips to his. The ensuing kiss spoke a language of its own--one of desire, need, and an unfiltered passion that surpassed any linguistic expression.
Your hold on his hair intensified as you pressed against him more urgently, the rhythm quickening. His tongue boldly slipped past your teeth, exploring your mouth with fervor. Simultaneously, his hands glided to the hem of your blouse, lifting it along your stomach. The kiss briefly broke as he encouraged your arms upward, swiftly pulling your shirt over your head and discarding it on the floor.
"Così bella..." he praised, his eyes fixated on your chest adorned by the delicate, lacy fabric of your white bralette. The intensity in his gaze felt scorching, as if it could sear your skin to ash. "Così, così bella, amore mio..." (So beautiful)(so, so beautiful, my love...)
His words took your breath away, slamming your chest like a fifty pound brick, the worship in his tone enough to render you speechless. You writhed in his lap, seeking friction, more friction that what you were currently experiencing--wanting him; needing him in every possible way. You captured his lips again, rolling your hips harder, the deep moan that escaped him found itself muffled by your mouth as you worked at the buttons on his shirt, fervently popping them free as quickly as you could.
The second his chest was exposed, you scoured it like a starved animal, the skin-on-skin contact sending a desperate clench to your cunt. You mapped his muscles to your memory as though it was the first time you'd ever seen them--the strength of his biceps, his strong, powerful abdomen, all of it hot and vibrating with need--you were breathless at the sight of his beauty under your palms, a feeling that had never once even partially faltered, no matter how many times you fucked him.
"Are you going to tell me what you said, Teddy..." you murmured, a playful smile dancing on your lips as your fingers skillfully moved to his belt, assisting in its release. "That was the whole reason I came over here, was it not?"
"Words can wait, amore," Theo muttered, his voice husky with desire, his gaze locked onto yours as he undid the zipper on your skirt, watching with blaring eyes as you tugged it off, along with your panties and tossed them to the floor. "Actions speak louder, don't they?"
"Mmfh," you moaned as he pulled you back against his mouth, his tongue running along your teeth as your bodies rocked together, his fingers gripping and caressing and squeezing every bit of your body that they could.
Pulling away, he met your eyes, heavily panting for breath as he gazed at you with a hunger that matched your own. His hands shifted, urging you to back up for a moment as he pulled his pants and boxers midway down his thighs--growling low in his chest as his thick, throbbing length sprung free, glistening with precum as it smacked against his chiseled stomach. You clenched.
He pulled you back against him, gliding you in slicking your soaked cunt along the length of his cock, his eyes burning wounds into your flesh as he watched you, lost in pleasure, lost in your need for him.
"Lo vuoi, amore mio?" (You want it, my love?) His voice barely rose above a whisper as he posed the question to which he damn well knew the answer. "You want this fucking cock inside that pretty little cunt?"
You shuddered, clenching hard in anticipation, nodding as you leaned closer, grazing your lips against his, panting heavily into his mouth.
"I want to hear you say it," he growled, one hand sliding up beyond your shoulders to grip the back of your neck, locking your gaze onto his. "Beg me to fuck you."
Your nails dug into his shoulders, entire body vibrating. "Please-Theo, please fuck me..."
"No, no," he playfully clucked his tongue, delivering a sharp smack to your ass with his free hand. You instinctively clenched again, the sensation electrifying. "In Italian."
"Gods," you groaned, his ceaseless teasing consistently pushing you to the brink of physical exhilaration in all the most delightful ways. Fortunately, this was a phrase he had taught you from the very beginning, a linguistic lesson that lingered since day one. "Per favore-per favore...ho bisogno di te..." (please-please…I need you.)
He exhaled, grunting. "Good girl."
It was a combined effort--he fisted his length, angling it at your core, your hands clutching his shoulders as you sank onto him, his thick girth stretching you wide with ease. You both collectively groaned, your walls pulsing and clenching around him as you took a second to adjust to his length, before rocking your hips in a slow, erotic rhythm; working yourself open on his cock.
Theo's eyes were glued to yours, watching your every movement as though he was afraid he'd miss something if he looked away. With a grunt, his big hands found your tits, palming and groping at the soft flesh with primal urgency, brushing his thumbs against your nipples, teasing them with soft circles. Your eyes rolled, your head falling back on your shoulders as you increased your pace, soft moans slipping past your lips.
"Esatto, piccola angioletta...così perfetta..." (That's right, little angel... so perfect) he murmured, his voice low, torn with husk. "You're so goddamn tight...squeezing me so good...così buono."
"Gods, Theo..." you whimpered, relishing in how deep he was, how big. "You're so fucking big."
Your boyfriend's hands shifted again, finding your hips, sharp fingernails digging into your skin as he thrust upward to match your movements, his cock hitting all the right spots. Your own fingers burrowed into his shoulders while you throbbed around him, lungs desperate for air, and he snarled, increasing his movements, setting a brutal pace that you couldn't match.
Cries fled you, pushed from your lungs by the carnal force of his hips, and Theodore consumed you--lips sucking at your neck, hands bearing bruises into your ass. His dick stretched you wide, fucked you deep, wracking your body with its punishment, breasts bouncing, his breath coming in ragged gasps against your skin.
You tilted your head back, his fervent mouth tracing down to your collarbone, claiming his territory across as much of your skin as possible. His cock pumped into you, beckoning an orgasm from the bottom of your brain--and as if sensing your clit screaming for attention, his hand snaked between your legs, fingers smoothly gliding over it. In response, you squealed, digging your nails into his shoulders with enough force to shatter the skin, body awash with pleasure.
"That's it, amore..." he groaned, breathless, teeth nipping at your earlobe, free hand gripping your ass with enough force to batter the skin. "Ride me like the good little whore you are."
"Fuck-fuck yes," you cried, your hips moving faster, chasing your orgasm as Theo's fingers rubbed tighter circles against your clit, increasing their relentless pursuit in bringing you over the edge. "Don't stop, Theo-fuck, please don't stop..."
"I won't, my love," he murmured, lips pressed against your ear, breathing the words into your eardrums. "Wouldn't fucking dream of it."
Theo's fingers worked magic on your clit as he thrust up into your cunt faster, harder--his cock hitting your g-spot with each aggressive movement. You could feel the pressure building inside your core, your body coiling like a tightly wound spring as he worked you closer and closer to the edge.
"Theo-" you gasped, your voice practically a scream. "I'm going to-I'm going-"
"Going to what, principessa...hm?" He implored, his voice a low, husky whisper escaping through his teeth; your entire essence pulsating, trembling amid his passionate pursuit. "Verrai per me? That tight little pussy going to cum on my cock?"
You wailed, head falling back, chest swelling for air. "Yes!...Theo-please!"
"Fallo. Cum for me." He graced your ass with another harsh smack, placing wet, sloppy kisses against your jawline. "Let me feel you."
With only a few more strokes, you came undone, cunt clamping around his cock, your whole body shaking as your orgasm washed over your entirety, blazing through every nerve ending and every fucking cell. Theo's fingers continued to rub you through it, prolonging the pleasure until you were left gasping for breath, nothing more than babbling nonsensical moans and pleas leaving your lips in the aftermath of his wrath.
Theo grunted, finally peeling his hand off your clit once you were whimpering and squirming against him, gripping the back of your head and drawing your mouth to his, meeting your lips in a sloppy wet kiss, each of you sucking in sharp breaths through your nostrils as you continued to ride him, your walls tingling in post orgasmic rapture.
"Brava ragazza," he moaned into your mouth, his body shaking with the force of his impending release. "So fucking good, bambina."
His movements grew erratic, hips bucking hard as he struggled to hold off his own orgasm, the force of his pace bordering on violent. You gasped, squealed, held onto him for dear life as you rode him, attempting to match his pace, but he was possessed, starved, breaking the kiss to lean back, both hands gripping your hips, holding you steady.
"You want my cum, little slut? Hm?" He gritted out, forehead glistening with sweat, his pupils blown wide with lust. "You want me to fill up this tight little cunt?"
You gasped, nodding frantically. "Yes! Please-please!"
"fuck...I'm gonna cum..." his lids fluttered, dark eyebrows pinching in concentration, his face contorting into a scowl of effort. "Cristo-you feel così buono-shit.."
With a final thrust, he growled, groaned--his movements slowing, breath sputtering from his lungs as he exploded, pumping once, twice, three times--all before coming to a halt, cock twitching inside you as he drained his hot cum deep into your pussy. Sweat beaded each of your foreheads, bliss buzzing between your bodies as you kissed him softly, panting into his mouth as you each worked silently to come back down to earth, pulses pounding in ruthless rhythm.
Spent and fully sated, Theo cradled the back of your head, pulling you into him, his free arm snaking around your back. You wrapped your arms around his neck, keeping him inside you as you two stayed like that for a moment, relishing in the intimacy between your bodies as he softened, his lips placing tender kisses on your shoulder.
"Ho voluto scoparti tutto il giorno..." he murmured softly, a hint of amusement in his tone as he repeated the words he knew you had no idea of their meaning. "sei tutto ciò a cui riesco a pensare."
"Stop teasing me." You huffed, burying your face into the crook of his neck. "It's not very nice of you, Theo..."
He chuckled, a low hum from deep in his chest, smirking against your skin as he tightened his grip around you, brushing loose strands of hair behind your ear.
“I wanted to fuck you all day...” he murmured, lips brushing your temple. “You’re all I can think about..."
You pulled back, meeting his stormy eyes. "Is that-"
"Yes." He interrupted you with a gentle kiss, smiling against your lips. "That's what I said."
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cloveswifey · 6 months
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Tired
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Mattheo riddle x Fem!Reader
Cute fluff
I found myself in Mattheos' dorm room, reclining on his bed while waiting for him to finish his shower.
As I mindlessly scrolled through tiktok, the sound of the door opening caught my attention. Swiftly, I averted my gaze from my phone to see Theo entering the room. He casually tossed his soiled clothes into the laundry basket before making his way over to where I was.
Signalling the end of my TikTok session, I deactivated my phone and placed it on the nightstand.
As Theo flopped onto the bed, seeking solace in my arms, I instinctively wrapped my arms around him, pulling him closer. Gently, I pressed a tender kiss onto his damp hair as he mumbled tiredly against my neck. “I’m so tired”
"Then get some rest," I chuckled, my fingers caressing his hair in a soothing motion.
"You smell amazing," he mumbled, his words barely audible.
With a light-hearted chuckle, I replied, "Why, thank you."
"Is it the new strawberry-scented one I got you?" he asked, nuzzling his head deeper into my embrace.
"Mhm," I murmured, gently tucking the duvet over both myself and Mattheo. As I continued running my hands through his hair, I began to hear soft snores escaping his parted lips. Glancing down, I couldn't help but smile at the sight of him peacefully asleep.
With a final tender kiss on his head, I closed my own eyes and settled in, letting sleep embrace me as well.
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happilykrispypirate · 7 months
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Bloodstained Petals
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Pairings: Mattheo Riddle x fem!reader
Warnings: Swearing, unrequited love, mentions of blood and throwing up, violence, death, and my shitty writing.
Summary: The Hanahaki Disease is a rare disease that causes flowers to grow in the person's lungs. The only way to stop it from killing the person, is to get the one they're in love with, to fall in love with them.
-
Y/n sighed as she watched as Mattheo make an advance on the girl he's been keen on for the last 2 months.
Theo sighed as he saw the look on the girl's face. He had known about her love for the dickhead since the beginning.
Y/n, you're making things harder for yourself," He finally spoke up.
"What's wrong with me?" She asked the question she's been asking him for years now.
"There's nothing wrong with you, love," Theo said, "He's just a fucking idiot."
Y/n sighed again, looking down at her food, feeling too sick to even think about eating anything.
"I'm going to bed, I'll see you tomorrow at breakfast," She said before getting up and walking out.
"I need the room tonight," Mattheo said when he came back to the table, "Where's Y/n?"
"You're a fucking idiot," Theo said also getting up to try and catch up with her, but she was already gone.
-
Y/n woke up in the middle of the night, coughing up her lungs. She ran to the bathroom to get her something to drink so that she'd stop coughing.
After downing a glass or two of water, her stomach churned. She quickly bent over the toilet and threw up.
Her heart sank with fear as she saw the blood and the petals. She then started coughing again, more petals.
Next thing she knew she stormed to the Gryffindor common room, ignoring the fat lady's whining about waking her up, and she ran straight to Hermione's room.
"Thank Merlin, you're awake," Y/n said.
"What's wrong?" Hermione asked worriedly as she looked at the panicked girl.
As if on cue another coughing fit started and petals landed in het hand.
"Are those?"
"Yeah."
"Oh my God," Hermione said, "You have the Hanahaki Disease."
"You say that like I'm supposed to know what it means," Y/n said as she threw the petals into the bin.
"Hanahaki Disease, is caused by unrequited love."
Y/n stayed silent. She brought this upon herself... falling in love with Mattheo.
"It's very rare. It causes a flower to grow in your lungs. The only way to stop it, is to..."
"Is to what?" Y/n asked, looking at Hermione.
"Is to get the person you're in love with, to fall in love with you. They can't just say I love you, and it'll be gone. They have to actually mean it," She said.
"I'm doomed," Y/n said as she sat down on Hermione's bed.
"Y/n," Hermione said. Her words were cut short when Y/n went into another coughing fit. She patted Y/n on the back, to help in whatever way she can.
Y/n then ran to the bathroom to throw up. Hermione ran after her to hold her hair back.
"We have to get you to Madam Pomfrey," Hermione said.
"No, I don't want anyone else to know about this," Y/n said, "Especially not Mattheo or Theo."
"Y/n if you don't do something, you're going to die," She said.
Y/n didn't answer her...
-
Over the next few days everyone noticed that she looked a bit sick. Professor McGonagall had sent her to her dorm after she had ran out of the classroom for the third time that lesson.
So, Y/n, just laid there in her bed and stared up at the ceiling. Her room littered with petals.
Theo had tried to come by a few times every day, but she made sure he couldn't come in.
She had Hermione put a charm on her door after Pansy walked in and saw Y/n coughing up petals. Y/n tried to lie her way out of, but Pansy knew immediately what it was. So now, the only people who can enter her dorm, was Pansy and Hermione.
As Y/n laid on her bed, she heard a soft knock on her door. She thought it was Theo, but when the spoke she knew she thought wrong.
Matheo.
"Y/n, I'm just checking in on you. Are you alright?" He was silent for a few moments, "Theo says you won't even let him in."
"Please, I need to know if you're alright," He said, "You're my best friend, I care about you."
The word 'friend' echoed in her mind for the rest of the day. She was only pulled out of her thoughts when she heard Theo yelling at Hermione.
"Why can't I fucking see her?" He yelled.
"Theo, she's not feeling well," Hermione said, "She said she doesn't want to get you sick."
"You and Pansy are in there every day!" He yelled again.
"Hermione," Y/n spoke, her voice raspy. Her throat was raw because of the coughing. She was weak due to the amount of blood she lost and the lack of oxygen.
Hermione's head poked through the door, "Let him in," Y/n said. She knew she didn't have a lot of time left, so she knew she had to tell him.
Hermione nodded, glad that she was finally telling Theo.
Hermione closed the door and lifted her wand. A few moments later, she turned towards Theo and nodded her head towards the door.
Theo didn't hesitate to storm in. He stopped dead in his tracks as he saw how sick his best friend was.
He saw the petals, and immediately knew about what she had and why she had it.
"Holy fuck, love," Theo said as he knelt down next to her.
"Hey Theo," She smiled weakly.
"Why didn't you tell me?" He asked. Tears were in her eyes; he feared for her life.
"I didn't want to worry you too much," She said.
"You still worried me, love," He said as he took her hand and kissed it.
"I'm sorry," Y/n said, her eyes starting to droop.
"Get some rest, love," Theo said, "I'll be here when you wake up."
Y/n took her hand out of his and placed it on his cheek. A tear fell from his cheek, she wiped it away with her thumb before she closed her eyes.
Theo stayed for a few minutes. He thought, how could someone do this to her.
The anger consumed him. He made sure Y/n was comfortable before he stomped off to find Mattheo.
-
He found Mattheo with that girl. He pulled him up by the collar and pinned him to the wall.
"You motherfucker, you did this to her. She's dying because of you're fucking selfishness," Theo spat in his face.
"What the fuck man?" Mattheo said, "Who's dying?"
Theo said nothing, he dropped Mattheo on the floor before dragging him to Y/n's dorm.
Theo opened up the door and saw Hermione standing over you. She had her wand out, she was examining you.
"Y/n?" Mattheo said. His heart sank. He saw the blood, the petals. He knew.
It was because of him?
"This is all your fault. She's been in love with you for a long time, but you didn't even bother thinking about her. You made it seem like you love her but then you go after other girls," Theo said.
"I've always loved her. I just thought she didn't love me," Mattheo said.
"It's always been you."
They both looked up and saw that Y/n was looking at them. Or, Mattheo.
Mattheo went over to her, and crouched beside her bed.
"I'm so sorry I did this to you," He said, "I love you, I really do love you."
"I love you too, Mattheo," She said, smiling weakly at him. He leaned forward and planted his lips on hers. Neither of them caring about the blood and tears.
They both pulled away when another coughing fit started. Mattheo placed his hand on her back and rubbed circles.
"Why isn't she better?" Theo asked, "Shouldn't she be cured now?"
"I'm afraid, it's too late," Hermione said as tears ran down her cheeks. Pansy stood to the side, trying not to get lost in the tears.
Both the boys' hearts sank. She looked at them both.
"I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner," She said.
"It's alright, love," Theo said as he too crouched down next to her bed, taking her other hand.
"I'll always be with you," She said, "I love you both."
"No, don't say that, you're not dying," Mattheo said, "I finally got to tell you I love you. You're not leaving me now."
She smiled at him, tears running down her cheeks.
She let go of her last breath.
"No, no, no, no, no, no, no," Mattheo begged sobbing. He lifted her up and held her to his chest as he rocked back and forth, sobbing into her hair.
Theo sobbed as he held her hands. His best friend since childhood gone.
Hermione held Pansy as they both cried.
"Don't leave me, please, don't leave me," Mattheo's voice cracked as he begged with every sob.
He blamed himself, he was too late.
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dreamcubed · 20 days
Text
i don't wanna live forever | mattheo riddle x reader
song; i don't wanna live forever [taylor swift, zayn] pairing; mattheo riddle x fem!ravenclaw!reader genre; ex2l, reconciliation, ex-lovers, angst, smut, hurt comfort(ish) word count; 2,8k timeline; half-blood prince  warnings; swearing, toxic relationship, jealousy, controlling behaviour, mattheo is not a good person, neither is y/n, borderline cheating (not on y/n or mattheo), smoking, alcohol consumption, drunkenness, arguments, drunk sex, piv, fingering, degradation, ass-slapping summary; ever since you began dating, you and mattheo had been a fiery and toxic mess of breaking up and getting back together - only, when you finally try and date someone else, you realise that you miss and crave the unhealthy pattern that came with mattheo riddle
MINORS DNI! 18+ content.
i don't typically write smut but this oneshot felt incomplete without it. so, enjoy... 2 year anniversary & 1k celebration gift haha
masterlist
"wondering if i dodged a bullet or just lost the love of my life."
——————————————
"I mean, why did you even date him in the first place?" Cho asked you, chewing on a chip, "He's literally You-Know-Who's son."
You sighed, used to this conversation from every person you knew, "You can't judge someone by their parents."
"The apple doesn't fall far from the tree."
"Cho, his dad went MIA for thirteen years when he was one and his mum was in prison until last year. He hardly knows them."
"But," she said, "He was raised by the Malfoys and he was sorted into Slytherin."
You rolled your eyes.
She shrugged, "I'm just saying, the red flags were there."
You didn't reply, moving your gaze over to the group of Slytherin boys sat laughing with each other while they ate. Your ex-boyfriend, Mattheo Riddle, was sat among them.
It felt too definitive saying ex, however, since you two broke up and made up constantly, and had for the last year and a half, much to your friends' horror. You argued with him, you cried over him, you talked shit about him - but you loved him. And the love you had was a burning flame of passion, but it wasn't healthy. You had broken up a week ago, which was actually the longest you had gone without talking.
Normally, you would have caved by now, but you felt different this time. You felt immensely stubborn.
"It's time you stayed apart for good," Cho said, just as Mattheo's eyes locked on to yours, "He's bad for you."
You knew she was right, which was why you accepted when a nice Hufflepuff boy asked you to Hosmeade that weekend.
***
The bouquet of pink and red flowers being presented to you really should have given you butterflies, maybe even made you squeal, but they horrified you. Nonetheless, you smiled and said, "Awh, thank you. You shouldn't have," before taking Leon's extended arm and letting him lead you to the Three Broomsticks. He pulled the chair out for you, and you forced another smile on to your face.
"I've been wanting to ask you out for ages," he said excitedly, "But you were still on and off with Riddle."
You hummed.
"I'm glad you're done with him. He didn't treat you right."
It was mutual. You were just as toxic as Mattheo.
"But I will."
"Well, thank you, Leon," you said gently, "We'll see, won't we?"
He beamed at you, "You're so beautiful."
Surely such a comment should make you blush, right?
***
"How was the date?" Cho wiggled her eyebrows back in the Ravenclaw dormitories.
"It was... good," you said, placing the flowers on your desk haphazardly.
"Just good?"
"He's really nice, I- I just..."
Cho frowned, "He's boring?"
You shook your head, "No, he's funny and interesting."
"Then what's the issue?"
You shrugged, "I don't know."
"Give him a chance then, babe."
***
Leon wrote you poems, he took you on cute dates, he fed you, he walked you to classes, and he hung off your every word. But your eyes would always linger over to Mattheo - because despite everything Leon did for you, the only time you felt butterflies anymore was when you made eye contact with your ex-boyfriend. That glittery spark had never once burnt out in those long eighteen months you were on and off. Every argument and break up only seemed to make it burn stronger and brighter.
And the thing was, Leon was too healthy for you: too sane, too trusting, too normal. Mattheo had turned you into a raging jealous monster, as you had him, and it was part of the reason you were on and off. Neither of you had ever actually cheated, but if you got too close to a boy? He would start an argument and scream at you until you yelled back that you were over. Two days later, he would corner you, never truly apologising but kissing and making up, muttering how he loved you before fucking you until the sun came up.
And you had done the same thing to him.
That was the issue with Leon: he was friends with everyone. Some of his closest friends were girls. Were you jealous? No. But you knew if you began to develop feelings for him then you would become more jealous than an innocent boy like him could handle. You would ruin him the way Mattheo ruined you, fucking him up for any future romantic endeavours.
It drove you crazy how respectful he was, how he didn't bat an eye at you saying you were going to study with a male friend. You needed more push and pull than what he was giving you: you craved a fight, because you craved the crazed passion that came with it.
Yet, three weeks passed by and Mattheo had made no effort to do anything more than glare daggers at you and Leon from across the room.
Then the Christmas holidays hit.
***
A rich Hufflepuff in your year - not Leon - was hosting a house party at their gigantic home, and you had scored an invite. In fact, so had everyone in your year, including a few people from the year above and year below. Leon had immediately owled you to say that he would pick you up before heading there, but you knew that as you patted on concealer and highlight, you were thinking about Mattheo's reaction when he saw you. He had hated when you dressed too revealing, saying that he could see guys' eyes on you - and he wasn't wrong, you just didn't care.
You had purposefully dressed yourself in a tiny black miniskirt and matching bralette, which as a combination left very little to the imagination. With the fishnets you adorned as well, it was borderline lingerie.
Maybe Leon would finally argue with you and make you feel something.
"Y/N, you look gorgeous," he beamed, not a trace of anger on his perfect face when you opened the door to him.
"Thank you," you said, fighting the urge to sigh, "You don't look so shabby yourself."
"Shall we?" he held out his hand to you, which you accepted.
***
The party was already in full swing when you arrived, and you made a quick motion to catch up by downing two shots. Leon watched you in amazement.
"You want one?" you asked, going to pour another drink.
He shook his head, "I don't drink."
"No?" you paused in your movements, thinking that maybe this would be the time you finally argued, "I drink a lot."
"Each to their own," he shrugged, "I'll look out for you."
"Thanks, then," you said awkwardly, "I'm gonna go for a smoke, you coming?" Had you partially said that as another attempt at angering him? Yes. But you also were craving nicotine.
He shook his head, "I'm good, we'll catch up in a bit, yeah?"
You nodded absently, pouring a third shot for yourself before creating a mixed drink and heading outside to the smokers' area. And, there he was, Mattheo Riddle stood with a cigarette between his lips and a drink in his hand.
Pulling out a cigarette that you had tucked in your bralette, you boldly walked up to the group of Slytherin boys and asked, "Anyone got a light?"
Nott, who was right next you, passed you his, but you never took your eyes off Mattheo. His eyes glided up and down your exposed body as you lit your cigarette and took a long drag, relishing in the taste. You watched his jaw clench.
"You and Duggard official yet?" Berkshire asked, referring to Leon. At his question, a borderline growl erupted from Mattheo.
You shrugged vaguely, "We'll see."
"Will you?" Mattheo asked coldly.
You exhaled some smoke, "Well, he's handsome, smart, funny and attentive to my every need."
"Oh, is he?" Mattheo stepped closer to you.
Chuckling, you said, "He's a very kind man."
Mattheo scoffed, pushing past you with a mutter of, "That's not what you need."
He was right, of course, but he didn't need to know that.
You turned your focus to your cigarette.
"He's not the same without you," Nott said casually, dropping his finished cigarette on the ground and stepping on it.
"No?" you murmured, a smile tugging on your lips.
"He hardly sleeps, hardly eats, is angry all the time," he continued, "So, please, stop your little charade with Duggard and get back with him already."
"Who says it's a charade?"
You heard Berkshire scoff, "C'mon, L/N, everyone sees you stare at Matt all the time. Everyone except Duggard, that is."
Biting your lip, you ashed your cigarette, "Well, maybe Riddle should man up and apologise."
***
The party raged on, and as the alcohol flowed through your system, so did the music. Leon didn't seem that keen on the party atmosphere, so you resorted to dancing with Cho and other Ravenclaw girls. That was until you felt a guy come up behind you and begin dancing with you.
You turned around to see a Gryffindor boy from the year above, and he wasn't half-bad looking, so in your drunken state you allowed it to happen. Cho gave you a sceptical look, but didn't intervene.
A hand tugged on your wrist, and you looked up to see Leon.
"Can we talk?" he mouthed, and you nodded absently, following him to the quieter room that was the kitchen.
"What?" you said a little harshly.
"I'd appreciate if you wouldn't dance with other guys," he said, his tone completely without malice.
Your instinct in these situations was to get aggravated, so you snapped, "Well, if you actually knew how to party, I wouldn't have to."
Leon stared at you blankly, "I'm sorry."
For fuck's sake, why did he have to sound so genuine?
"I'll try and come out on the dancefloor if that's what you want."
"Fucking hell," you cursed.
"What? What is it?" he sounded worried.
"Why don't you argue with me?" you exasperated, tugging at your scalp.
Leon frowned, "That's no way to resolve things."
"It's not about resolving things," you snapped, "It's about passion, it's about the spark, it's- it's..." you trailed off, "Rowena, I feel crazy."
"I understand your relationship with Riddle wasn't the easiest one, but I want to help you learn what a calm and healthy relationship is," Leon said gently, "Because you deserve better."
"Are you even listening to me?" you pulled your hands down your face, "I don't want peace. I want passion. I want twin flame bruises. I want a push and pull."
"I-"
You cut him off, "Mattheo would have beat the shit out of that guy for dancing with me."
"That guy probably didn't know you were taken-"
"Mattheo made sure that everybody knew I was his," you said firmly, feeling tears prick at your eyes, "I just need to argue, Leon - I crave it."
"Well, I can't give that to you."
"Y/N," a voice spoke in a growl behind you.
You span around, being faced with the one man who could make you feel electric. And that was when your emotions crashed all over you: upset and anger expressed through tears and yelling.
"Why are you taking so fucking long?" you screamed.
But he wasn't looking at you - no, he was glaring at Leon. "I think you've had long enough with my girl, Duggard," he drawled.
"She's not your girl anymore," you heard Leon reply, before he said to you, "What did you mean when you asked him why he's taking so long?"
You saw Mattheo clench his fist, and you grabbed his wrist to halt him, "Fucking talk to me, Riddle."
His eyes snapped to yours, "I will never be Riddle to you, princess."
"Considering we've hardly spoken the last few weeks, I'd say you are."
"Guess I'll have to remind you who you are to me, then," he chuckled darkly, pulling you away from Leon. The Hufflepuff boy went to follow you worriedly, but you glared at him and he stayed put. Part of you felt bad: a tiny, sober part.
You found yourself in an upstairs bathroom, pressed against a cool tile wall.
"If you ever pull a stunt like that again, I can't promise I'll be a good person about it."
"You're never a good person about anything," you muttered, relishing in his hot breath fanning on to your face.
He smirked, "We both know that's the way you like me."
You hummed, "Fuck me, Mattheo."
"I'm not sure you deserve a good fuck after everything you've done."
"I never fucked him."
"No?" he chuckled, "Good."
And then his lips were on yours, tasting, sucking, nibbling every centimetre. His hand quickly trailed to underneath your skirt, rubbing your clit through your scandalously thin panties.
He pulled away from the kiss, "Don't ever wear anything like this again," he kissed you again, "At least not in public."
"Whatever you want."
He hummed his approval, pushing your panties aside to push two fingers inside of you.
"Please, I just want your dick."
"Yeah?" he murmured, "How bad?"
"So bad, please," you begged, your tear and mascara stained cheeks enhancing the puppy dog eyes you gave him. Mattheo had to admit, he loved seeing you so desperate for him.
"You really don't deserve this," he sighed, unzipping his trousers.
You licked your lips as you watched him pull his rock hard dick out.
"I can't wait to feel your mouth on it again," he muttered, "But I'm feeling nice, so I'll just give you what you want."
Mattheo bent you over the sink countertop, lifting up your skirt and slapping your ass in the process. He pulled your panties further aside.
"Don't act like you don't just miss being inside me," you forced out, making him slap your ass harder.
To your surprise, he said, "Of course I fucking did."
And then he pushed inside you, quickly and without warning, causing you to gasp loudly.
"So fucking wet."
You arched your ass up to him, moaning.
"I don't think I'm gonna last long."
You were hardly able to reply, as he had begun to run circles on your clit as well. But, you agreed with him, as the absence of this feeling had made your body hypersensitive to Mattheo's every touch.
"Fuck, you're such a whore," he murmured, picking up the pace relentlessly.
"Your whore," you managed to say, your eyes rolling back into your head as you felt your orgasm build up.
"I bloody well hope so," he chuckled.
And then, as you both came closer to ecstasy, things went silent - the only noise being his groans, your moans, and the sound of skin slapping.
"Matty, I'm gonna co- fuck!" you cursed, feeling your release wash over you in red hot passion, your vision going white as your every limb shook. You didn't normally orgasm so easily.
He continued to fuck your overstimulated pussy, gripping your hips so hard it would probably leave bruises. "Gonna fill you up," he choked out, his breathing growing heavier as you finally felt his dick throb inside you, signifying his release.
Mattheo stilled, staying inside you for a moment as you both processed the situation. Eventually, he pulled out, helping you turn over so you were sat on the counter facing him. You were both panting.
"I'm sorry," he said eventually, and your eyes widened.
He had never outright apologised before.
"I'm sorry too," you mumbled back.
"I love you so much," he pressed his forehead against yours, "I just I-"
"I love you too. So much."
He hummed, "I just- I don't understand my father. I don't want to live forever."
You frowned, "Why not?"
"Because," he took your hands in his, "Without you, I'd just be living in vain."
A smile stretched widely on your face, "Want to leave this stupid party?"
"I thought you'd never ask."
And as you left the party, hand in hand and evidently in a post-sex haze, Mattheo said - loud enough for a few close people to hear - "I'm gonna marry you, you know that?"
And you did.
———————————————
masterlist
written; 25/02/2024 —> 09/03/2024 published; 09/03/2024 edited; —/—/——
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beingsuneone · 5 months
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The One
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SYNOPSIS: it would’ve been fun. If he would’ve been the one.
FANDOM: Harry Potter
PAIRING(S): Mattheo Riddle x Fem!Reader
RATING: G
CHARACTERS MENTIONED: Goyle, Crabbe, Draco, Theo, Pansy, Enzo, Blaise, Tom, Voldemort
GENRE/AU: Angst, Unhappy ending, Arranged Marriage Au!, reader is married to Goyle (not by choice),
WORD COUNT: 2.4k
WARNINGS: Angst
A/N: *cough* the 1 by Taylor Swift was my inspo. *cough* header and dividers made by me. I would also like to make a part two to this. Note: Voldemort/Toms son Tom Jr who looks exactly like him! (Pre-Voldemort)!AU hope this helps.
DEDICATIONS: the people who voted for him in the poll :)
CREDITS: N/A
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The silver band on your finger glistens in the bright lights of the wedding hall, looking anything but enticing; instead of a symbol of love and comfort, it was like a shackle that tied you to a man you didn’t love forever.
Your eyes scan the crowd for the millionth time this evening, trying to seek out a pair of familiar brown eyes— your heart drops for the millionth time this evening, and you realize all over again that no matter how many times your eyes search for his, it will not make him appear.
He won’t come, you know that now as your new husband leans over to ‘kiss the bride’.
You try to wipe the disappointment off of your face, let go of his messy brown curls and smooth words, his rough hands and intoxicating scent.
Mattheo Riddle wasn’t yours to think about anymore; the man in front of you was.
Why your father thought a marriage alliance with Gregory Goyle would help your family, you’ll never know.
Worse, Goyle was, at one point, at least a decent friend of yours; You, Mattheo, Draco, Theo, Enzo, Blaise, Tom, Goyle, and Crabbe, used to strut around Hogwarts like you owned the place— let’s be honest, you damn near did. You and your protective group of Slytherins.
You allow your lips to touch Goyle’s for only a moment before you pull back and smile cordially; the two of you walk arm-in-arm down the aisle until you reach the doors at the end.
The moment you’re through, you push him away.
“I’m sorry, Y/n.” He says sadly. “If I could have said no, I would have.”
You shake your head, not even listening. “He didn’t even come, Goyle. I thought he’d at least try.”
Goyle sighs. “It wasn’t up to any of us. Not even Mattheo.”
Your eyes sting so you force your face to go deadpan and stare at Goyle. “I will always love you as a friend, Goyle, but I will never love you as anything more.” You say, retreating towards your dressing room.
He says nothing in return. He doesn’t need to. The feeling is mutual.
You enter your dressing room and release a strained breath, resting your head against the door after you close it.
Taking a deep breath, you allow yourself to daydream; to think what this day would be like if Mattheo was the one wearing a suit, the one saying his vows and sliding a ring onto your finger. You let yourself imagine all of the things you would’ve shared with him in this alternate reality, all the joy you might’ve felt. The future you might’ve been able to look forward to.
A tear slips silently down your cheek as your throat closes, suffocating you in the feelings you wish you were feeling.
Someone clears their throat and your eyes fly open, as your whole body snaps stick straight.
It’s your father, sitting eery and alone in a dark room. “You had to grow up one day, Y/n,” he says as his cold gaze sweeps over you. “Stop running around with that Riddle kid and risking your future.”
You shake your head. “The only real future I had was with him, Father.” You tug on the skirt on your wedding dress, and then your hair. “All this— this glamour and camaraderie is you, father, you playing puppeteer with real live people. I don’t know what status you think you’ll get from Goyle, of all people.”
Your father just sneers and pulls up his sleeve— an elaborate tattoo meant to symbolize his allegiance to Voldemort. The dark mark. He says, “You know exactly who that boy’s father is, and exactly where that puts me in relation.” He pauses. “This is what the Dark Lord wanted, Y/n.”
“…what?” Your mouth hangs open, and you wonder why the dark lord would want to torment you personally. “Why would he… I don’t understand.”
Your father just brushes past you and twists the door open. “If the Dark Lord doesn’t tell, you do not ask.”
……
“You’re going to marry him, right?” Pansy asks, smiling at you in the way that friends do when you have a crush on someone.
You shrug, playing it cool but despite your heart going a thousand miles a minute; excitement courses through your veins at the thought of Mattheo. “I think we’d have to become an actual thing first, Pansy.” You laugh.
She winks at you playfully. “I don’t think that’ll take too long, Y/n, He is whipped for you.”
You shake your head. “He is not.” Your heart still flutters.
“He is.” A new voice cuts in, and it sends a shiver down your spine. You turn to face Mattheo, who is now leaning in the doorframe.
What an entrance.
Pansy looks between the two of you and smirks mischievously. “I‘ll leave you two alone and go bug Blaise.” She slips past Mattheo.
You can’t meet his eyes as you grin stupidly at the floor, and the shirt in your hand.
“You talk about me often?” He says, settling on the floor next to you; he breaks you out of your stupor by gently tugging the shirt out of your hands.
You finally look at him. “No, only when Pansy brings you up. Which is always.” You bite your lip as you smile. “I don’t mind it though, you’re one of my favourite subjects.”
“That’s good,” he agrees, toying with a lock of your hair. “I think the guys are sick of hearing about you.”
“Of course they are,” you banter, “They already know everything about me.”
Mattheo leans in closer. “I don’t think they know everything.” His head dips down until his lips are just millimeters from yours. “They wouldn’t know what your lips feel like, would they?”
He bridges the gap and the two of you spent what is probably several minutes just kissing, and when he pulls away you’re breathless.
“No, I don’t think they know that.” Your voice comes out high-pitched, still trying to catch your breath both mentally and physically.
“I hope they never find out.” He says quietly.
You nod absent-mindedly. “Me too.”
….
You sigh deeply and set down the box in your new living room. Trying to put a positive spin on it, you think about how it won’t be terrible living with a friend instead of your parents, who were never there when they needed to be and always there when you needed them to leave.
Emotionally and physically.
You and Goyle are throwing a housewarming party, per his mothers request; so, technically this box really shouldn’t be in this room right now. It needs to be prepped for the party.
Goyle walks into the room. “Malfoy wants to know if he should invite Mattheo.”
You shrug. “Tell him to invite him, I don’t think he’ll show up either way.” Getting over Mattheo has not been easy, and when you think about him, his absence still sends several intense stabs through your heart.
You can still feel the ravines where the cracks in your heart formed. If he did show up, it would either put you on the path to healing or destroy you all over again and possibly forever.
You were fully prepared for the latter if it meant seeing him one last time.
But he won’t show, just like he wasn’t there when you really needed him just a few months ago, when some other man’s ring was being slipped onto your finger and you were near powerless to stop it.
Goyle stares at you for minutes, as if you’re fragile and need to be handled gently. “It is short notice.”
You pick the box back up and walk past him, just to stop at the foot of the stairs. “That’s not what I mean and you know it.” Then, you go upstairs and place the box in the guest bedroom. You have all this space in your new house and absolutely nothing to do with it.
Rooms filled with expectations and soured dreams.
….
Parties should be fun; this cake, considering it’s your favourite flavour, should taste good. You’re surrounded by the faces of your closest friends, all your family— though you aren’t fond of many of them— and all of Goyle’s family. Yet, all you feel is unfulfilled aching for Mattheo.
You feel so pathetic, always thinking about Mattheo, always relating everyone moment to your first love.
But you had wanted him to be your last. Your only. Your everything.
Draco is here, and he’s the one who asked about inviting Mattheo, so you’re pretty sure he’s not coming and you know you absolutely shouldn’t ask.
Instead, you stare at Draco as you eat the tasteless cake, wishing he’d somehow understand what you wanted to know.
Doesn’t help that he’s across the room.
“Y/n, come upstairs for a minute.” Pansy says, dragging you away from the party and into your bedroom. Or what will be your bedroom, anyways.
When the door has shut and she’s locked it, she turns back to you. “You can’t spend the whole party pining over the possibility of Mattheo showing up, Y/n; I know how much he means to you but you have to accept that you’re married and it’s over. You’re only going to hurt yourself more if you keep obsessing over this.”
You reel back, though you’re thankful for how bluntly Pansy says it. “I know, Pansy, I know. I just— I don’t know if can ever get over him. I mean…” You trail off trying to find your words. “Goyle was probably the last person out of our group that I would’ve chosen if I couldn’t have Mattheo. Truly, I think I could live if it was Enzo, or Theo, or even Draco, but not Goyle.”
She sighs. “But it’s not them, and it is Goyle.”
“So, what now?” You huff. “I’m just supposed to… I don’t know, keep his house and have his kids?”
Pansy’s eyes soften but she doesn’t respond; its a rhetorical question and there really isn’t any proper answer for it.
Then, there is a knock at the door. Pansy unlocks and opens the door, just enough for her to see who it is.
When she does, she says nothing. You watch her slip out the door before you even see who is behind it.
And then he steps in.
Mattheo Riddle.
“Hello, Y/n.” He says, so plainly as though he hasn’t just affected you in more ways than you could ever possibly count.
You look away. “You actually came.”
He clears his throat. “I did.”
You can almost picture him a few years back, standing in your dorm room door, smiling at you in that teasing way that made you knees weak.
Except he’s not smiling, and there is absolutely nothing blissful about this moment.
“There’s something I have to tell you.” Mattheo shuts the door behind him. “If it changes anything at all.”
…..
“There’s something I want to tell you, y/n.” Mattheo says one day, cryptically. “I’m just not sure if I should yet.”
You brush his hair out of his face. “Whatever it is, you can tell me, whenever you’re ready.”
He shakes his head, but he’s not disagreeing. “I’m worried you’ll see me differently.”
“There is nothing in the world that could make me see you differently, Mattheo.”
He seems sated by your words, and pulls you into a hug, resting his chin on top of your head. The two of you stay like that for a long while before he finally says, “I’ll tell you, but not today.”
You nod silently and focus on the feel of his arms around you, not wanting to take a single moment with him for granted.
…..
“What is it, Mattheo?” You say exhaustedly while you sit down on the mattress. “What could you say that would change anything?”
He takes a deep breath and sits beside you. “I know why this is happening, why Voldemort singled you out.”
You look up at him. “Mattheo…” trailing off, you stare at his sleeve in horror, dreading what you think he’s going to say. “Please tell me you didn’t.”
He furrows his eyebrows, following your gaze; when he realizes, his eyebrows shoot up again. “No! No, That’s not why I know.”
You visibly deflate with relief. He instinctively curls his arm around you but then quickly pulls it away. “Okay,”
He chuckles dryly. “My reason is actually much worse.” Mattheo pauses, blowing out a breath. “I’m his son.”
.
.
.
After a moment's hesitation, you shoot up from your spot, your eyes blown wide with disbelief. “Mattheo, you cannot be serious.”
He stands up, and sits you back down, trying to keep you calm. “It’s not like I want to advertise that my father is the most notorious dark wizard in history.” He reaches out and pushes a strand of hair out of your face, like you used to do to him so many times. “But he didn’t want you with me, Y/n, all of this is happening to you because of me.”
He sinks down to his knees in front of you and takes your hands in his.
“So,” You start. “I was personally targeted by the dark lord because you couldn’t bother to mention what’s probably a very important detail.”
His fingers tighten around yours. “I was so scared that you wouldn’t love me anymore if I told you, and then, by the time you were engaged, it was too late.”
You push his hands away. “Mattheo, I would have loved you no matter what you told me.” The hurt in your voice makes him back away from you and you can see the pain swirling in his eyes too.
“I told you. You know. Now, we can fix this.”
“No, Mattheo,” You stand up and push him towards the door. “It’s too late. You’re too late.”
He shakes his head rapidly. “No. No, it’s not.” Mattheo tries to stop you from opening the door but ultimately you push him over the threshold. “Please, Love, We can make it work— we could run away, do anything— please.”
You can’t look at him as you speak, while tears flow freely down your cheeks. “We were something, don’t you think so?”
His face falls, and you can see his heart shatter— you can feel your heart mirror his.
Perhaps, though, the most painful part is when he replies; “Yeah, we were.”
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