Pompeygirl89 - Untitled - Tumblr Blog

Run Your Mouth - Mattheo Riddle

Summary: Your relationship with Mattheo might not be the healthiest in every way, but you're in far too deep to do anything about it.

Based on: Run Your Mouth - The Marias

TW: not proofread, implied spiciness (MDNI)

Dark brown eyes stared back at you, eyebrows raised ludicrously with inquisition. Awaiting your response, waiting for you to do, say anything. But the fact of the matter was, you had shut down as you sat on a trunk of Quidditch balls, eyes lulling, head empty.

It was a vicious cycle.

You would do something (or supposedly do something) that piqued Mattheo's jealousy, he would get upset and avoid you for a day or two - depending on the "severity", only to come back to you when he thought fit, mostly to give you a piece of his mind. Usually (always) ending the night undressed, limbs entangled, hands caressing soft skin in his Slytherin green bed sheets. Kisses and whispered apologies filling momentary silences, the soft candle glow lit up the stone walls of his dorm room - as if nothing had happened.

Currently, he was awaiting the answer as to why you had let Graham Montague pick up the scarf for you that you had been wearing, the scarf the wind had wisped away from you as you sat watching Mattheo during his quidditch practice - the scarf (which was Mattheo's) that he gave you to wear, marking you as his girl.

You'd never seen him hop off that broom so fast to hustle your way, grabbing your arm and pulling you to the broom shed with haste. Where you still happened to be - adjusting your seat on the uncomfortable trunk, wishing you were anywhere but here at the moment, as he hissed his disbelief of Graham. "What makes him think he can do that? And why did you look so okay with it?" He shook his head.

He continued his ranting as he paced back and forth inside the rickety old broom shed, drafts of wind howling through the cracks between each wooden board that still stood it's ground.

You watched quietly, letting him get it all out - your thoughts wandering, anything from tomorrow's herbology exam, what would be for dinner, weekend plans, to how wanton the sweat on his brow had made you feel inside. Memories of your fingers swiping the damp hair that stuck to his forehead as he readjusted his position between your thighs, looking down at you in assurance.

Shaking your head of the thought, he kneeled in front you - clearly winded from his long, one-sided conversation. Rough, wind-chapped hands grabbing his own scarf from your hands, wrapping it around your neck, before he tightened it ever so slightly - pulling your face down to meet his. "So?" He asks, his warm breath creeping across your lips, eyes locked on yours.

"You talk too much." You quip with a soft sigh, a smirk growing on your face - only to be mirrored on his face, a tut leaving his lips before he leaned in capturing yours in a deep, craved kiss.

𝐒𝐤𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐧 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐧 𝐈𝐜𝐞

fluff | Bestfriend!Mattheo Riddle | 💙🫂🦋❄️| Masterlist | Taglist | requests are open

SUMMARY: Y/N jokes with Mattheo about his frustrations, but her offhand comment leads to a heated moment between them.

AUTHORS NOTE: Inspired by the book Unsteay written by Peyton Corinne.

Y/N lay sprawled across her bed, her head propped up on her arm, lazily flipping through an old textbook as Mattheo Riddle lay beside her, one arm draped over his face as he stared up at the ceiling. His usual cocky demeanor was dimmed, and for once, he seemed… frustrated. His brow furrowed, lips pressed in a firm line, and every now and then, he'd let out an annoyed grunt that made Y/N roll her eyes.

"What's with you?" she asked, not bothering to look up from her book. "You're acting like someone stole your favorite wand or something."

Mattheo shifted next to her, letting out a heavy sigh. "Just been a long day," he muttered. "Too much shit in my head."

Y/N finally turned to him, an amused smile tugging at her lips. "Maybe you just need to get laid."

Mattheo froze, then slowly turned his head towards her, his dark eyes widening slightly as if he'd misheard her. "I-what?"

Y/N chuckled, closing the textbook and tossing it aside, turning to face him fully with an exaggerated shrug. "I wasn't offering, hotshot. Trust me, that's just… not a good idea."

His momentary shock melted into laughter, the sound of it filling her small dorm room. He always had this laugh—deep, rich, and infectious. She smiled, about to make another snarky remark, but before she could, Mattheo moved.

In a split second, he was on top of her, his strong arms caging her in against the soft mattress. He hovered over her, his familiar smirk playing at his lips as his dark curls brushed against her forehead.

"Right," he whispered, his voice low, sending a shiver down her spine. "For the record, I am offering."

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat, her heart beating just a little faster as she met his intense gaze. His body was warm and close, much closer than usual, and it was impossible to ignore the shift in the air between them. She bit her lip, trying to play it cool, but her pulse betrayed her.

"Mattheo," she warned softly, though there was a playful gleam in her eyes. "You're skating on thin ice."

His smirk grew wider, his eyes flickering down to her lips for a moment before returning to her eyes, a mischievous glint in them. "Good thing I like danger."

For a moment, neither of them moved, the tension building between them as the weight of his words lingered. But then, Y/N, being Y/N, couldn’t resist.

She laughed, pushing against his chest playfully, breaking the tension. "You're such an idiot."

He grinned down at her, his expression softening as he rolled off of her, flopping back onto the bed beside her with a dramatic sigh. "Yeah, but I'm your idiot."

Y/N shook her head, smiling as she turned to face him again. "Lucky me."

𝐖𝐡𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐊𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭

Oneshot | Theodore Nott | 🤺⚔️₊˚⊹♡| | Masterlist | Taglist | requests are open

SUMMARY: Theo Nott surprises Y/N with a charming introduction as her "white knight," even though they’ve known each other for years. A flirtatious exchange ensues, complete with a hand-kiss and a few Italian words that leave Y/N unexpectedly flustered.

AUTHORS NOTE: Inspired by an Edit of Seth Cohen lol

The music was loud, the room buzzing with laughter and chatter as students from all houses gathered for a party in the Slytherin common room.

Y/N stood near the fireplace, her smile bright as she joked with her friends. Across the room, Theo Nott watched her, his heart pounding harder than it should have. He'd always admired Y/N from a distance. She had this effortless charm, a way of lighting up any room she entered. But he'd never quite managed to say more than a few words to her. Not because he didn't want to, but because… well, he was Theo Nott, and small talk wasn't exactly his forte.

He took a sip from his drink, trying to muster up the courage. Tonight might be his chance.

Y/N’s laugh echoed through the room, pulling his attention back to her. She was mid-conversation with a group of her friends when she said, with a playful smirk, "Honestly, everyone needs a white knight sometimes, don't you think?"

Theo felt a smile tug at his lips. Without overthinking, he straightened up, fixing the sleeves of his shirt as he made his way over to her. His heart raced, but there was a surge of confidence coursing through him. Maybe it was the energy of the night, or maybe it was just… her.

Y/N noticed him approach, her head tilting slightly in curiosity as he stopped right in front of her. The group of friends fell quiet, intrigued by the sudden interaction. Theo met Y/N’s gaze and, with a soft smirk, offered his hand. “Theo Nott,” he said, his voice smooth but with a hint of teasing. “White knight, at your service.”

Y/N blinked in surprise, a playful smile spreading across her lips as she looked at his outstretched hand. Y/N raised an eyebrow but placing her hand in his anyway. “Nice to meet you, Theo Nott, white knight. even though, we've only been going to Hogwarts together for, what, six years now?”

He didn’t miss a beat. Instead of shaking her hand, he leaned down, brushing his lips lightly against her knuckles. His gaze never left hers as he straightened up, still holding her hand gently in his. “Piacere di conoscerti, bella,” he said softly in Italian, his voice low and warm, the words rolling off his tongue effortlessly.

Y/N’s cheeks flushed, the unexpected flirtation catching her off guard. “What did you just say?” she asked, her curiosity piqued by the unfamiliar language.

Theo’s smirk deepened, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “It means, ‘A pleasure to meet you, beautiful.’”

Her friends let out a series of “Oohs,” making her laugh despite the way her heart fluttered at his words. She couldn’t help but smile back at him, shaking her head in disbelief. “Smooth, Theo. Very smooth.”

Theo grinned, still holding her hand. “I’m just stating the truth,” he said softly, his eyes locking with hers in a way that made her stomach flip.

For a moment, the noise of the party seemed to fade away, and it was just the two of them standing there, hands intertwined. Y/N felt a warmth spread through her, something new and unexpected as she realized maybe, just maybe, Theo Nott wasn’t as quiet and mysterious as she’d always thought. There was something deeper there, something that made her want to know more.

“Well,” she said, her voice a bit softer now, “I suppose every white knight needs a damsel in distress, right?”

Theo’s smirk turned into a full smile, his thumb gently brushing over her knuckles. “I'll be there if you need me bella.”

𝐒𝐡𝐮𝐭 𝐔𝐩 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐅𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰 𝐌𝐞

fluff | Mattheo Riddle | 💙🫂🦋❄️| Masterlist | Taglist | requests are open

SUMMARY: Y/N demands Mattheo follow her without question, but he only responds with flirtation.

AUTHORS NOTE: Saw this bit of dialogue from the Book King of Sloth by Ana Huang on TikTok and it gave me Mattheo Vibes so wrote this.

The moon was high, casting a silvery light over the dense trees, shadows dancing ominously along the path. Y/N walked briskly ahead, her eyes set with determination, but her frustration was palpable. Mattheo Riddle trailed behind her, his usual smirk in place, clearly amused by her urgency.

"Where exactly are we going, princess?" Mattheo’s voice broke the silence, laced with that infuriating, cocky tone he always seemed to use.

Y/N didn't break her stride, her boots crunching against the forest floor. She threw a glare over her shoulder. "Just shut up and follow me."

Mattheo’s smirk deepened, his eyes gleaming with mischief. He sauntered after her with far less urgency, clearly entertained by her commanding tone. "Yes, ma’am. I love a woman in charge."

Y/N rolled her eyes so hard she could practically feel them in the back of her skull. She didn’t bother responding, knowing he thrived on her irritation. He always had a way of getting under her skin, finding amusement in every little reaction she gave him.

"You know, if you wanted to boss me around, you could’ve just asked," Mattheo added, his voice low as he closed the distance between them. His hand brushed her arm as he fell into step beside her.

"Or," Y/N shot back, not slowing down, "you could just stop talking for once and actually do what you're told."

Mattheo chuckled softly, but said nothing more, the sound of his laughter lingering in the air between them. She could feel his eyes on her, that smirk probably still plastered on his face, but at least he was quiet now. Small victories.

They continued deeper into the forest, and though she’d never admit it, there was something oddly comforting about having him there. Even if he was a pain in the ass.

KINKTOBER #3– SUNKEN AND SPELLBOUND / mattheo riddle

october 8th breath play , slight blood play , outdoor intimacy

part one part two

mattheo riddle x fem reader

summary: mattheo’s drawn to the siren he met at the black lake. so drawn, in fact, that he’d let her claim him.

warnings: siren!reader, reader mostly takes control, unprotected piv, blood play, breath play, reader kind of almost drowns mattheo a few times (he’s fine), outdoor sex, oral (m receiving), 18+ content

words: 5.5k (smut starts after a little bit of plot)

a/n: sorry this was posted a day late…. anyways i’d appreciate if you read part 1 first!!

navigation kinktober masterlist

Recklessness was not unfamiliar to Mattheo Riddle; it was practically second nature. It clung to him like a shadow, a constant companion in his pursuit of the unknown. But as he plunged into the icy, unforgiving depths of the Black Lake, even he felt the weight of his decision.

The cold pierced his skin, seeping into his bones as the Black Lake swallowed him whole, its inky depths tightening around his chest like a vice. Yet, the deeper he sank, the more alive he felt. The water muffled the world above, leaving only the beat of his heart and the pull of something darker, more magnetic, beneath the surface

The biting chill clawed at his skin, but none of it mattered—not the cold, not the darkness surrounding him—because you were right there, your presence burning like a beacon in the depths.

You stared at him in disbelief as he floated in front of you, your mouth slightly open as if you hadn't expected him to follow through. But he had. Of course he had.

He surfaced again, shivering but with no regrets as he stared at you. Your eyes widened in shock as he swam closer, the cold surrounding him but doing nothing to diminish the heat burning inside him.

“What the hell are you doing?” you whispered, your voice barely audible, laced with both awe and fear.

“I’m here,” he said, closing the distance between you, his breath coming in ragged gasps as the cold tightened its grip on him. “I’m with you.”

You stared at him, and for a moment, he thought he saw something break in you, a crack in the armor you wore so tightly. But before he could say anything more, before he could reach for you again, you moved.

With a soft gasp, you dipped beneath the water, disappearing into the depths as though trying to escape him, trying to protect him from the monster you believed yourself to be. Mattheo’s heart clenched as he watched you go, the water swallowing you whole.

But he didn’t stop. Without hesitation, he plunged beneath the surface after you, the icy cold stealing his breath as he kicked down, following the faint shimmer of your form in the dark water. His lungs burned, the pressure building with every second, but all he could focus on was the blurred outline of you just ahead.

And then, suddenly, you were there. His hands found your waist, pulling you to him, your bodies suspended in the dark water. His eyes were closed in on your tail, your pearlescent skin, as if he couldn’t believe such a vision of beauty could ever be real. You stared at him, wide-eyed, your chest rising and falling as if you couldn’t believe he had followed you this far.

For a heartbeat, neither of you moved.

And then your lips were on his.

The world around him dissolved. The cold, the darkness, the water—none of it mattered anymore. The only thing that existed was the press of your lips against his, the taste of salt and cold, the electric connection that surged through his veins like fire.

It wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t soft. The kiss was desperate, hungry, filled with the kind of longing that felt like it had been buried for centuries, waiting to be unleashed. His arms wrapped around you, pulling you closer as the water swirled around you both, the world above forgotten. His lungs screamed for air, but he didn't pull away. He couldn't. This was everything he'd been waiting for, everything he hadn't even realized he needed.

But as the need for air clawed at Mattheo’s chest, a panic began to unfurl. The world around him blurred, the darkness closing in. He pressed one final kiss to your lips, a silent promise hanging in the air, before he tried to pull away, desperation coursing through him.

But you didn’t let him go.

In an instant, the heat of the moment shifted. Your grip tightened around his wrist and he felt you pull him deeper. The instinct to fight surged within him, battling against a rush of fear. He thrashed against you, confusion mixing with dread. This wasn’t the girl he had kissed moments ago—the one who had seemed so vulnerable, so full of life. No, this was something else. This was your true nature, and it terrified him.

With a surge of adrenaline, he brought his hand to your face, desperate to reach the girl he knew was still there beneath the surface. Your eyes flickered for a moment, the predatory gaze breaking, revealing a glimpse of terror and guilt. But it was fleeting, lost in the depths of your siren instincts.

The realization crashed over him, mixing with the burning sensation in his chest. You were fighting against it, battling your own nature, but he could feel you slipping further away. He thrashed harder, panic flooding his system as he tried to push past the instinctive fear that clawed at him.

Then, as if you sensed his desperation, your focus shifted. The guilt flashed in your eyes again, and you acted instinctively. You wrapped your arms around him, propelling both of you upward, your strength overcoming his flailing movements.

When you broke the surface, Mattheo gasped, lungs burning as he inhaled the fresh air, each breath like a lifeline. He could feel you beside him, but the panic lingered, a raw edge of terror.

With a sudden burst of power, you pulled him forward, your body gliding through the shallows. You dragged him onto the muddy shore, tail splashing against the dirt as you clumsily crawled onto land. Mattheo lay gasping, his breath ragged as he fought to calm the storm of emotions within him.

“Why?! Why would you do that?!” you screamed, your fear for him coming out in anger. “You could have drowned!” you continued, the anger spilling over. “You could have died!”

Mattheo's chest heaved as he struggled to find his breath, his heart pounding with the remnants of panic, but there was no regret. He felt it as sure as the ground beneath him—solid and real—just like the girl lying beside him, your chest rising and falling with rapid, shallow breaths. The damp earth clung to your skin, your once-sleek tail now replaced by legs, though they shimmered in the dim light, pearlescent scales still clinging to your thighs as if they, too, couldn’t fully let go of the water.

You looked wild, like you belonged to the night itself, hair wet and clinging to your face. Slowly, he dragged his gaze up from your scales, following the soft curve of your legs and up to your face, the moonlight casting delicate shadows across your features. You were otherworldly—beautiful in a way that words couldn’t capture, a creature that belonged to the deep, dark waters. But you were also something more, something terrifyingly human in this moment, lying beside him in the dirt, torn between two worlds.

You didn’t look at him, your breath still uneven as you stared at your legs, your hands brushing across the silvery scales as if you could wipe them away, banish them along with the instincts that had nearly overtaken you. He could see it—the guilt, the fear of what you’d almost done. Of what you still could do.

He shifted, dirt sticking to his damp clothes as he sat up, still watching you with a mix of awe and something deeper, something that twisted in his chest. He didn’t want to look away—couldn’t look away.

Your eyes flickered toward him then, and for the briefest moment, something vulnerable and raw flashed across your face. It was gone as quickly as it appeared, replaced by a hard edge of anger, but Mattheo had seen it. You were terrified—not of him, but of yourself.

“I’m fine,” he finally said, voice rough but steady as he tried to calm you, to reassure you. But the words did little to ease the tension in you. You weren't fine. Neither of you were.

Your lips parted again, your breath shaky, but you didn’t speak. Not yet. Instead, you pushed yourself up, knees sinking into the dirt, and turned your gaze back to the lake, your expression torn between longing and dread. The water still called to you, still tempted you to return. Mattheo saw it in the way your body tensed, the way your fingers curled into fists.

“You don’t have to go,” he wanted to say, but he held the words back, unsure if that was what you needed to hear. Slowly, you moved. You turned back toward him, your eyes locking onto his.

“You shouldn’t have followed me.” Your voice was quiet, hoarse, but it carried a weight that hit him square in the chest. “You don’t understand... what could’ve happened.”

He swallowed hard, his throat still raw, but his gaze didn’t waver. “I don’t care.”

Your brows furrowed, frustration flashing in your eyes, but underneath it, he could see the fear—the guilt eating away at you. “You don’t get it, Mattheo. I could’ve killed you.”

“But you didn’t.”

Your hands curled into the dirt at your sides, knuckles whitening as you fought whatever battle was raging inside of you. “I almost did.”

He leaned forward, his hand reaching out to touch you, but he stopped just short of your skin, waiting. “But you didn’t.”

Your gaze snapped to his, wide and desperate, as if you didn’t know whether to push him away or pull him closer. “Why did you go in the water?” you whispered, your voice cracking. “Why do you keep coming back?”

“Because I can’t stay away from you,” he said, and his voice was so quiet, so raw, that he barely recognized it as his own.

Your breath hitched, your eyes searching his, something fragile breaking apart between you. Mattheo leaned closer, the dirt beneath him grounding him as he closed the distance between you. He could feel the warmth radiating off you, a tantalizing contrast to the cool night air. Your eyes widened slightly, but there was no fear in them, only a mixture of uncertainty and something that felt like yearning.

He captured your lips again, his heart racing at the sensation, the intoxicating taste of you lingering on his tongue. He couldn't shake the thrill that coursed through him, the twisted attraction that tugged at his core.

You had almost drowned him, and yet here he was, completely captivated. It was almost sickening, how easily you pulled him in. The girl who haunted his thoughts, the one he barely knew but felt closer to than anyone else.

"I want you so fucking bad, Y/N," he breathed against your lips, the words spilling out before he could hold them back.

Your breath hitched, eyes flickering with a mixture of surprise and something deeper, something that resonated within him. "Mattheo..."

"You're so fucking beautiful, you don't understand,” he mumbled desperately, a man reduced to a pathetic mess of need. "I can't stay away from you. I can't. You haunt me.”

The truth of it crashed over him like a wave, pulling him under once more. You were a siren, and he was lost in your song.

"Let me have this," he urged, voice low and intense, a plea wrapped in desperation. "Just for tonight."

"I don't want to hurt you," you whispered.

"I trust you," he replied, his conviction strong. It was a risk, he knew that, but every moment spent away from you felt like torture. "I won't let fear stop me."

The night was eerily still, save for the soft rippling of the Black Lake lapping against the shore. The weight of your lips on his made Mattheo's pulse hammer against his skin. You were intoxicating, your every breath, every touch, pulling him deeper into your web.

Your control over him was palpable. Mattheo was used to having the upper hand, used to getting what he wanted, but not here—not with you. Your kiss was laced with dominance, your siren nature swirling in the air between you, wrapping around his limbs like invisible chains. You toyed with him, your lips a whisper away, teasing him with just enough contact to drive him wild but never fully giving him what he craved.

When you finally pulled away, the cold night air rushed between you, making the heat of your body even more tantalizing. Your fingers, delicate yet undeniably strong, trailed along the back of his neck, sending shivers down his spine. He leaned forward again, wanting more, needing you closer, but you held him back, a small smile tugging at your lips.

You leaned in close, your breath brushing his ear. "Do you trust me?" you whispered, your voice a soft, dangerous melody.

"I... I do," he breathed, the words slipping out before he could think. He wasn't sure if they were true, but something about you-wild and untamed-made him powerless to resist.

Before he could react, your hand pressed against his chest, and with a forceful shove, he was falling backward into the freezing water. The shock seized his lungs, the icy grip of the lake wrapping around him. His mind screamed for air, but before he could surface, you were on him, pushing his upper body down into the shallow water.

Your fingers tangled in his hair, and you kissed him fiercely beneath the surface. The cold water closed in from every angle, heightening the heat of your lips against his.

Every nerve sparked with sensation, the icy water and the warmth of your body creating a whirlwind of contrasts.

But then the burn in his lungs began. He tried to pull away, desperate for air, but you held him there, hands tightening, nails grazing his scalp as you deepened the kiss. A thrill coursed through him, mingling with fear, as his body struggled beneath you, thrashing against the weight of your grip.

And just when he thought he couldn't take it any longer, you pulled him to the surface.

He gasped, breaking through the water, chest heaving as he sucked in air. But with the fear ebbing, something else took its place-a need, an aching want for more. He wanted you. All of you.

Your voice, soft and hypnotic, drifted to his ears. "I told you I could be dangerous," you whispered, your lips grazing his ear like a secret only for him.

He turned, breath still shaky, but his voice steady. "Then be dangerous," he growled, hands already reaching for you again.

Your eyes darkened with something untamed, and a wicked smile curved your lips. Without warning, you shoved him back under the water. This time, he didn't resist.

When your lips claimed his again, it was a collision of heat and desperation, a kiss that left no room for gentleness. He matched your ferocity, his teeth grazing yours, tongues battling as his need for air warred with his need for you.

When he surfaced again, he was met with your soft laughter-low, teasing, full of dark delight. "You're reckless, Mattheo," you teased, eyes gleaming. "What would you do without me?"

"Maybe I wouldn't need saving if you let me breathe," he shot back, the tension between you palpable.

"Do you want to breathe?" you challenged, your voice dipping into something more sensual. "Or do you want to drown?"

A slow grin spread across his face, his gaze locking onto yours with an almost obsessive hunger. "Both," he whispered, his voice rough with desire. "I want to drown in you."

He surged forward, crashing his lips into yours. His hands roamed over your body, rough and insistent, nails digging into your skin. You responded in kind, your claws extending, raking through his shirt and leaving lines of crimson across his chest.

Pain mixed with pleasure, every sensation more vivid in the cool water. He shuddered as blood began to trickle from the fresh cuts, staining the surface of the lake. You licked your lips, eyes gleaming as you eyed the crimson marks with a predatory hunger.

"You taste exquisite," you purred, your tongue flicking out to lap at the wounds. He groaned, head falling back, every touch sending fire through his veins.

Your hands traced the lines of his body, lingering on the fresh marks, each touch claiming him, marking him as yours. When your lips found his again, they were tinged with the taste of his own blood, the mix of salt and copper intoxicating.

You pushed him back onto the bank, your body pressing down on his, pinning him beneath you. Your hair fell like a curtain around him, the world disappearing, leaving just the two of you-raw, primal, and connected.

You kissed him with a hunger that was more than physical, a need that was both possessive and intimate. He held you close, his fingers tangling in your hair, anchoring himself to you as you devoured him.

When you finally pulled back, leaving him gasping, you trailed your lips down his throat, pausing to nip at his pulse. "You're mine," you whispered against his skin, the words vibrating through him. "Every breath, every drop of blood... it's all mine."

Then, slowly, you shifted, fingers deftly working at the fastenings of his trousers, your gaze never leaving his, the connection between you deepening with every beat of his heart.

Mattheo gasped, his breath catching in his throat as your fingers grazed over the hardness straining beneath his trousers. His chest rose and fell in quick succession, eyes locked with yours, the promise of what was to come thick in the air. There was a tenderness in the way you teased him, your claws leaving faint, stinging trails on his skin-not meant to hurt, but to remind him he was yours.

"I want you to beg," you whispered, your lips hovering over his, your words filled with more emotion than threat. "I want to hear you ask for me."

His chest tightened at your touch, not just from the sensation, but from the overwhelming need for connection. There was a flicker of something in your eyes— something more than lust. Slowly, deliberately, you hooked your claws into the waistband of his trousers, peeling them away from his body with excruciating slowness. The cool night air brushed over his exposed skin, but it wasn't the cold that made him tremble.

It was you.

You looked at him, really looked at him, your eyes drinking in every inch of him like he was something to be cherished. Your fingers, delicate yet firm, wrapped around his aching length. The featherlight touch had him arching into your hand, but you kept your movements maddeningly slow, savoring every reaction as though it mattered.

"Please..." Mattheo's voice cracked, his pride crumbling under the weight of his desire. But more than that, there was something in his tone—something raw, vulnerable. “Fuck,” he whispered

A smile tugged at your lips, but it was softer this time, touched with affection. "Oh, I intend to," you murmured, leaning down to press a kiss to his thigh. Your lips lingered there, warm and gentle against his skin, the contrast to your earlier dominance making his heart pound harder.

You lavished attention on his tip, circling your thumb around his slit as he found the urge to thrust up into your fist.

“Give me more,” he choked out, his voice raw with need and desperation. “Please.”

His breath hitched when your mouth finally hovered over him, the warmth of your breath against his sensitive flesh sending shivers down his spine. But when you took him in your mouth, he felt like he was about to implode.

Mattheo's hands fisted in the dirt, his body going rigid as he fought the instinct to push you deeper, to lose himself in the wet heat of your mouth; but you were in control.

Mattheo threw his head back with a guttural moan, his hips jerking involuntarily as you bobbed up and down his length. The wet heat of your mouth engulfed him, your tongue fluttering along the underside, hitting that spot that made his vision go white.

Your mouth moved with practiced precision, and every flick of your tongue sent him spiraling deeper into pleasure. He could feel the tightness building in his stomach, the desire overwhelming him as he fought to maintain his composure. He didn’t understand how you seemed to know him, know his body, in a way no one else ever had.

His voice came out ragged, filled with more than just desire. "You have no idea what you do to me."

"You're so fucking perfect," Mattheo breathed, the words slipping out before he could catch them, raw and unfiltered. His eyes fluttered shut as you continued your slow torment, his body tightening with every teasing stroke. He could feel himself teetering on the edge of bliss, so close to losing control-until, with a wicked smile, you pulled away.

The cold air hit his overheated skin, a sharp contrast that left him gasping. His eyes snapped open, meeting yours as you simply looked up at him with that maddeningly innocent smile.

"You don't get to finish yet," you whispered, amusement lacing your voice as your hand moved lazily over him, keeping him right there on the edge, denying him the release he craved. It drove him wild.

"Y/N..." His voice was hoarse, rough with desperation, but you only laughed softly, leaning down to press a kiss just below his navel, your lips brushing against his skin like a promise.

"You'll take what I give you," you commanded softly, and the words sent a shudder through him.

Something in him snapped. With a growl, Mattheo flipped you onto your back, his larger frame pinning you beneath him. His breath came hot and fast against your cheek as his intense gaze locked onto yours, the air between you charged with unspoken challenge.

"You think you can toy with me? Make me beg, then deny me?" he growled, the words low, full of dark promise.

You smirked, leaning back as the moonlight caught the delicate scales still faint on your legs, your eyes flashing. "You think you're in control here, Mattheo?"

His grin was predatory as he grasped your wrists, pinning them firmly above your head. "Let's find out," he murmured, his voice dangerous, sending a thrill through you. He relished in the way your body responded to his touch, the way your breath hitched, your lips parting in surprise.

With deliberate slowness, he leaned down, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. "You've been playing games, love... but now, it's my turn."

You gasped, your heart pounding as his grip tightened, pinning both your wrists above your head. The thrill of helplessness, mixed with the burning desire coursing through you, made your pulse race. "Please," you whispered, the word slipping from your lips before you could stop it.

Mattheo's dark eyes gleamed with satisfaction. "You'll have to be more specific," he teased, savoring the sight of you-flushed, desperate, teetering on the brink.

"Don't make me say it," you mumbled, but his smile only grew, his lips brushing against yours in a tantalizing near-kiss. The tension between you felt like it could snap at any second.

"Tell me what you want," he urged softly, his voice like silk, smooth and coaxing. "Beg for it."

Your heart warred with your pride, but the aching need between your legs won.

"Please... I need you inside me. I need to feel you."

His eyes darkened, satisfaction rolling through him as he released your wrists, his hands sliding down your sides with deliberate slowness, savoring every inch of you. In one swift motion, he flipped onto his back, pulling you on top of him.

"Take what you need," he rasped, his voice thick with desire.

Your hands trembled as you reached down, feeling his length throb against your palm. With a slow, deliberate motion, you tugged your panties to the side and guided him to your entrance, teasing both of you with the anticipation.

Mattheo's low groan reverberated through the night air, his fingers gripping your hips as he felt your heat envelop him. "Fuck... you feel incredible," he breathed, his eyes locked on yours, a fire burning in their depths.

Slowly, inch by inch, you sank down onto him, the delicious stretch and fullness making your head spin, both of you caught in the intensity of the moment.

Mattheo's grip on your hips tightened as you sank down fully, his thick length filling you completely. For a moment, you both savored the intimate connection, reveling in how perfectly your bodies fit together.

Then, you began to move, rolling your hips in a slow, tantalizing rhythm that made his head spin.

"F- fuck," he breathed, his eyes dark with desire as he watched you ride him. "You—god, you're perfect."

With every thrust, he bucked up to meet you, driving deeper into your slick heat. The intoxicating sensation of being filled by him made you crave more, and you quickened your pace, chasing that elusive peak of pleasure.

"Oh, fuck... you feel incredible," he groaned, his hands roaming over your curves, tugging your bra down to tease your nipples and squeezing your ass. Each rough caress ignited a fire within you, and you could feel the coil of pleasure tightening in your core.

Suddenly, he surged upward, pressing soft kisses along your neck, whispering apologies for the bites he left behind.

But you broke away, a playful glint in your eyes. "You want to play?" you purred, your voice sultry and inviting. "Let's see how long you can hold your breath."

With that, you pushed him underwater, testing his limits as you continued to ride him, denying him air.

Beneath the surface, Mattheo's body went rigid, panic flaring in his eyes. But even as desperation clawed at him, the pressure of your sex against his throbbing cock sent jolts of pleasure through him, heightening his desire despite the urgency of his situation.

His mind raced, desperate for a way to breathe, but the overwhelming sensations stole his willpower. As the need for air grew unbearable, he surrendered, succumbing to the intoxicating pull of your body.

Just as his vision began to blur, signaling blackout, you finally pulled him up. He gasped for air, clinging to you like a lifeline. "Shit, Y/N," he panted, voice shaky with relief and lingering arousal. "You're going to kill me."

Mattheo's chest heaved as he gulped in air, heart racing wildly. "You're insane," he gasped, a mix of awe and disbelief coloring his tone.

"Absolutely fucking insane."

Yet even as he spoke, he knew there was nowhere else he'd rather be than right here, lost in the depths of your daring game.

His hands slid up your slick skin, resting on your hips as he pulled you flush against him, grinding his hardness against your aching core. "I told you a million times. I’m not scared of you.”

A wicked smile curved your lips, your eyes sparkling with mischief. "That’s why I like you," you purred, tracing a finger along his jawline before gripping his chin firmly.

With a sudden yank, you wrenched his head back, exposing the delicate column of his throat. Your teeth sank into the tender flesh, marking him as yours, and he let out a guttural moan, the pain blending seamlessly with the pleasure radiating between you.

"You wanted me to be dangerous, didn't you?" you taunted, nipping and sucking at his pulse point. "Is this what you imagined?"

Mattheo could only whimper in response, his cock twitching inside you as you found a particularly sensitive spot.

"No," he managed to choke out, voice strained with a heady mix of pain and ecstasy. "It's better. So much fucking better."

Mattheo's hands gripped your waist tightly, his nails digging into your skin as he fought to retain control. But with every wicked twist of your hips and sharp nip of your teeth, his resolve crumbled, surrendering to the relentless waves of pleasure crashing over him.

"More," he pleaded, his eyes wild and desperate. "Please, Y/N. I can take it."

His desperate plea ignited a primal hunger within you, a desire to push him further and test the limits of his endurance.

With a feral growl, you released his throat, your mouth trailing down to his collarbone, biting and sucking the soft skin there. You quickened your pace, riding him with abandon, your inner walls clenching around his pulsing cock.

Mattheo arched beneath you, a hoarse cry escaping his lips as he neared the edge.

"Fuck, Y/N! I'm gonna-"

You silenced him with another brutal bite, your teeth sinking deep enough to draw blood. The coppery taste fueled your frenzy, driving you to ride him harder, faster, determined to prolong his pleasure.

A wicked smirk curled your lips at his plea, and you obliged with sadistic delight.

Gripping his hair, you forced his head back, exposing more of his throat to your merciless attentions. Each bite left its mark, and you reveled in the way his body trembled beneath you.

"Look at you," you purred, voice laced with disdain. "So weak, so desperate."

Mattheo's face twisted in a blend of pain and pleasure, tears welling in his eyes as he struggled to process the overwhelming sensations. "I'm not—mmnph… not weak. I'm just—fuck! Letting you have your fun."

You leaned in closer, your hot breath ghosting over his ear. "Is that so? Then why do you look like you're about to pass out?"

He shook his head, fighting through the haze of pleasure. "Because you're torturing me," he groaned, a hint of admiration threading through his voice. "Not because I'm weak."

"Whatever you say. Keep telling yourself that."

As if to emphasize your point, you resumed your relentless pace, riding him with renewed vigor. The wet slap of flesh echoed through the air, punctuated by Mattheo's ragged gasps and moans.

Suddenly, his hips bucked erratically, fingers digging into your skin hard enough to bruise as his orgasm crashed over him. "Fuck, Y/N!" he cried, back arching off the dirt, waves of pleasure consuming him.

But you showed no mercy, riding him through the aftershocks. The sensation of his pulsing cock combined with the overstimulation of his release was almost unbearable, yet you persisted, driven by an insatiable need for your own peak.

"Shut up," you snapped, pushing his head back under the water when he tried to speak. "I'm not done with you yet."

Mattheo's mind spun as you rode him mercilessly, ignoring his spent state. The water filled his lungs, darkness creeping into his vision, yet he clung to consciousness, enduring the exquisite torture.

His body jerked beneath you, overwhelmed by the relentless friction and the knowledge that you wouldn't stop until you wrung every last ounce of pleasure from him. Despite the desperation, a twisted thrill surged through him at the sheer depravity of it all.

He could feel you tightening, your movements growing erratic as you neared your own climax. The thought of bringing you over the edge fueled his fading strength.

You gasped through gritted teeth, your pace frantic as you chased your release.

Mattheo felt your walls clenching around him, pressure building to a breaking point.

With a final, brutal thrust, you slammed down onto him, crying out as your orgasm tore through you. Your body convulsed, milking his spent cock for every last drop as you ground against him.

Even as the waves of pleasure ebbed, you remained impaled on him, your weight pressing him into the dirt as you caught your breath. Mattheo lay there, dazed and utterly spent, wondering if he'd ever be able to move again.

As you slowly regained your breath, your heart still racing from the intensity of your release, you looked down at him. The moonlight danced on his skin, illuminating the wild, desperate hunger in his eyes. There was something intoxicating about the way he gazed up at you, as if you were the only thing that mattered in that moment.

“You meant it,” you whispered, brushing a damp strand of hair away from his forehead. “When you told me that you weren’t afraid to drown”

His breath came in ragged gasps, and the truth hung in the air between you. “No,” he admitted, voice hoarse. “Maybe I just want to be near you, guppy.”

That drew an unexpected, breathy laugh from your lips as you stared down at him, trying to process that he was real.

“Don’t call me that,” you mumbled.

“Whatever you say, guppy.”

kinktober taglist: @mattheoriddles-slutt @theeslutintheroom @esmerai-artemis @gigival @cloudyyydayzzz @sn000py @abeoavita @yesiamthatwierd @shaquilles-0atmeal @roseofsharron438 @iouinotes @romantasyreader28 @c3liaaaaa @sleepiibunniiii @chemtrailsoverhogwarts @daenerystorgaryen @emma-grace0 @tori-303 @ilovehpb0ys

𝐂𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐌𝐞, 𝐌𝐚𝐲𝐛𝐞?

fluff |Mattheo Riddle | 💙🫂🦋❄️| Masterlist | Taglist | requests are open

SUMMARY: Y/N decides to test Mattheo Riddle's dedication during Quidditch practice by calling him, expecting to leave a voicemail. To her surprise, he answers on the first ring, pausing his training just to talk to her, proving that for him, she always comes first.

AUTHORS NOTE: Based on a scene in Red my lips by Lila Herron

The sun was beginning to set, casting a warm glow over the Hogwarts Quidditch pitch as Y/N sat by the lake, her fingers idly playing with her phone. Tom’s words from earlier echoed in her mind.

"Mattheo won’t answer if he’s at Quidditch training," he had told her with certainty. "His phone will be in his locker or shoved into his bag, and believe me, he won’t hear it until hours later."

Y/N knew that Mattheo was passionate about Quidditch; it was one of the things that made him so captivating to watch.

But today, something in her wanted to test it. She wasn’t even sure why she reached for her phone.

Maybe it was to prove Tom right, or maybe she just missed hearing Mattheo’s voice. Either way, she opened her contacts, scrolled down to his name, and pressed the call button.

She expected it to ring, maybe even go to voicemail. She was ready to hear that automated message and laugh to herself about how silly she was for interrupting him.

But the phone rang just once before she heard the line click open.

"Hello?" came the deep, unmistakable voice on the other end. The familiar sound of wind rushing past broomsticks and distant cheers filled the background.

Y/N’s breath caught in surprise. "Mattheo?"

"I like seeing your name show up on my phone," he replied smoothly, his voice low and warm despite the noise around him. It was like the world had stopped for him, even though she could hear the chaos of training in the background.

Y/N blinked, glancing down at the time on her phone. "Wait… aren’t you at Quidditch practice?"

There was a slight pause, then a soft chuckle. "I am."

As if to prove his point, she heard the distinct whoosh of someone flying by on their broomstick, followed by a distant shout. It sounded like Theo Nott.

Y/N shook her head in disbelief, leaning back on the grass. "Wait, did you actually pause training just to answer my call?"

Mattheo’s laughter echoed through the phone, and she could imagine the smirk that must’ve been playing on his lips. "You called, so I answered."

Her heart fluttered at his words, warmth spreading through her chest as she imagined him standing on the pitch, surrounded by his teammates, holding up a hand to quiet them just so he could speak to her.

"But I didn’t want to interrupt you," she said softly, suddenly feeling a little guilty. "Tom said you never answer when you’re training…"

"Tom’s right," Mattheo replied, and she could hear him shifting, maybe stepping further away from his team. "I usually don’t."

"Then why now?" she asked, her curiosity getting the better of her.

There was a moment of silence on the other end, as if he was debating how much to reveal. When he spoke again, his voice was a little lower, more intimate. "Because it’s you, Y/N. I don’t care if I’m in the middle of training or dueling with a dragon. If you call, I’ll answer."

Y/N’s face flushed, her heart racing at the sincerity in his voice. She felt the corners of her lips tug up into a smile, her earlier nerves completely forgotten.

"You’re going to get in trouble with your team," she teased lightly, trying to hide how much his words affected her.

Mattheo chuckled again, the sound sending a shiver down her spine. "They can wait a minute. You’re more important."

Before she could respond, she heard Theo yell in the background. "Oi! Riddle, get off the phone! We’ve got a game to win!"

Mattheo’s voice was playful as he called back, "Yeah, yeah, I’ll be right there!"

"Go," Y/N laughed softly. "I don’t want to be the reason you lose."

"I’d rather lose the game than miss a call from you," he shot back with ease, making her heart skip a beat.

"Mattheo," she whispered, her voice softer now, feeling her emotions start to swirl. "You're ridiculous."

"And you love it," he replied smoothly, his voice teasing but filled with warmth.

She couldn't deny it. "Yeah, I do."

"I’ll see you later, alright?" Mattheo said, and she could hear the smile in his voice, the affection that laced his words.

"Yeah, later," Y/N replied, her heart full as she ended the call.

As she tucked her phone back into her pocket, she couldn’t stop the smile that spread across her face. Tom had been right—Mattheo normally wouldn’t answer during training.

But for her, he always would.

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐁𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭

fluff | Mattheo Riddle | 💙🫂🦋❄️| Masterlist | Taglist | requests are open

SUMMARY: Y/N and Mattheo Riddle, sworn enemies, find themselves locked in a kiss that neither of them can deny. As tensions shift into something deeper, Y/N realizes that kissing the son of Voldemort is the best part of her day.

AUTHORS NOTE: Based on dialogue in the book Today, Tonight and Tomorrow by Rachel Lynn Solomon.

The air was thick with tension, the kind that had been simmering between Y/N and Mattheo Riddle for what felt like an eternity.

They had never been able to stand each other—or so they claimed. But now, in the dim light of the empty corridor, something had shifted.

They had been standing too close for too long, and suddenly, Y/N found herself caught in a moment she couldn’t escape from—or didn’t want to.

Their lips met, soft but hungry, a kiss that was both unexpected and inevitable. His hands found their way to her waist, pulling her closer as the kiss deepened, and for once, neither of them was fighting it.

The world around them seemed to fade, leaving only the two of them in that moment, lost in each other.

But then Mattheo pulled back, his breathing uneven as he gazed at her, eyes dark and searching. His voice was hoarse when he finally spoke, “What… what is happening?”

Y/N blinked, a small smirk forming on her lips. "Kissing you," she said simply, her voice teasing but steady. "Should I stop?"

For a moment, Mattheo just stared at her, his brow furrowed as if he were trying to make sense of something completely foreign to him. Then he shook his head quickly, swallowing hard.

"No! Umm…" He glanced away for a second before his gaze locked back onto hers, his vulnerability showing for just a fraction of a second. “Just wanted to make sure you know it’s me you’re kissing.”

Y/N grinned, her heart racing at the sight of him being so uncharacteristically unsure. She leaned in and pressed a soft, teasing peck against his lips. “Yes,” she whispered against his mouth, her breath warm against his skin. “And that’s the best part.”

Mattheo’s eyes darkened with something she hadn’t seen before—desire, maybe, or something deeper—and that was all it took.

He crashed his lips back onto hers, his kiss more urgent this time, like he had to make up for every second they had spent fighting whatever this was between them. His hands slid up her back, pulling her even closer, and for the first time, Y/N didn’t care about anything else.

Not about the fact that Mattheo was the son of Voldemort, not about their rivalry or what anyone else would think. All she cared about was how right this felt in that moment.

Kissing him.

And nothing else mattered.

Desperation

Photos ltr: Pinterest by gabrielle_lcrx here, Pinterest by jkswxt here, Pinterest by Tish_9426 here | Divider by @saradika here

Mattheo Riddle x Reader

Word count: Approx. 3.2k

Summary: Mattheo Riddle was the only guy you'd ever felt desperate for. You were never expecting the tables to turn all these years later.

Warnings/be aware: Gryffindor!Quidditch Player!reader, fem!reader, confident reader, reader is mentioned as wearing makeup, alcohol consumption, reader being hit on, mentions of reader being laughed at/embarrassed in the past, pet names

A/N: Yes this is yet another impulsive fic I wrote before finishing my Theo series oops! I just love a confident reader so much. Experimenting with this character dynamic was quite fun and I do hope you enjoy!

The roar of music echoed in your eardrums, bass thumping in your chest and deep red lights obscuring your vision as you played along with some ill-conceived game that Ginny Weasley had concocted. She stood next to you, shooting ping-pong balls into beer-filled cups that the opposing team – Harry and Ron – were shuffling across the table. It was all you could do to keep up, attempt to successfully land your ping-pong balls inside the cups, and chug when she told you to. Occasionally she would cheer victoriously, so you supposed the two of you were doing well.

To celebrate Gryffindor’s victory in the Quidditch match played earlier that day, you were playing party games in your dimly-lit common room, clad in a dark red bodysuit, black jeans, and black strappy heels. You were attracting your fair share of attention, and not just because of the eight goals you’d put up that day as a Chaser.

“Heads up, Malfoy’s staring.” Ginny’s voice lilted playfully and you could picture the smirk on her lips even as you struggled to bounce your ping-pong ball into the cup in front of you. Across the table, you heard distinct scoffs from Harry and Ron.

“Relax, boys, you know that blonds aren’t my type.” You wore a smirk of your own as you sank a shot into the cup and passed it back across the table. So long as the male population of Hogwarts stuck to looking and not touching, you didn’t mind the attention. However, you weren't looking for a dance partner, and you definitely wouldn't be searching in the corner where Malfoy and his teammates resided.

“Don’t look back, eye contact with him is liable to turn you to stone.” Ron’s lip curled in displeasure as he glanced across the dance floor, eyes searching until he found Draco across the room. In a less-than-subtle move, he stepped to the other side of Harry to block the Slytherin Seeker’s view of you.

“Very mature.” With a derisive glare, you accepted the cup of alcohol that he slid across the table.

“Yes!” Ginny cheered as she sank a shot before her gaze whipped towards you. “Come on, come on!” Thankfully, your ping-pong ball immediately sank into the cup. “Yes, yes, yes! We win!”

Your mouth fell open in surprise and you leapt up to high-five her. “Let’s go! Take that, boys!”

“Oi, she’s manipulating the rules!” Ron gestured at his sister, who stuck her tongue out at him. “I demand a rematch.”

“Absolutely not, that beer you put in there is foul.” Harry shook his head ardently. “I’m going to go drink anything else.” He stepped away from the table and towards the drinks.

“Ditto.” You nodded in agreement. “Harry, while you’re over there, will you get me a glass of water?” He shot you a thumbs-up as he departed and you turned to Ginny. “Dance floor?” Taking your hand, she strode eagerly across the common room.

You didn’t make it far before you heard a voice calling your name. Sharing a look of exasperation with Ginny for a brief moment, you braced yourself and turned around. In front of you stood Seamus Finnegan with a red cup in his hand, swaying slightly to the music.

“Hey, pretty girl. Great match today.” He winked, running a hand through his hair.

“Thanks, Seamus.”

“Care for a dance?” The fellow Gryffindor shot you what you supposed was intended to be a flirtatious smile, but looked more like a wince in the dim lighting.

“You know me, Finnegan, I'm flying solo.” You brushed off the request with a grin.

He let out a playful sigh. “You’re going to kill me someday, you know.”

“And yet you always come back.” Giving him a teasing wink, you caught up with Ginny, a little swing in your hips. She turned towards you as the two of you stepped onto the dance floor, a knowing glimmer in her eyes.

“Shooting down Finnegan again?” She practically had to shout into your ear to be heard over the thump of the bass that resonated in your chest.

“Would you believe me if I told you that I’ve tried to put that guy out of his misery? Repeatedly.”

Her brown eyes rolled back into their sockets as she scoffed. “Don’t I know it. Corner was the same way until I finally caved. You’ve got the right idea, I’m telling you.”

Around Hogwarts, you had a bit of a reputation for putting guys through the ringer, never letting anyone too close. It wasn’t entirely earned, you had given one boy a chance in the past year or two. Granted, that one guy was Roger Davies, Ravenclaw Quidditch captain and school heartthrob, but so what if your standards were high? Unfortunately, once Roger had left Hogwarts to play professional Quidditch it had proved too difficult to maintain your relationship. That didn’t mean you were in a rush to find someone else, though. You knew your worth, and anyone intent on catching you would need to prove that they deserved to keep you. Until then, you were content to dance alone while they stared after you.

Soon Harry joined you and Ginny on the dance floor. The three of you sang along to the songs blaring over the speakers after you downed your water and a shot of Firewhiskey. With the party in full swing, the dance floor was packed, and you lost track of the world around you. Jumping and dancing to the music was the only thing that mattered, the floor buzzing beneath your feet. At some point, Lavender and Parvati squeezed in next to you, and you soaked in the company of your little Gryffindor girls corner while you celebrated your victory.

“You look so gorgeous!” Parvati eyed your outfit before taking a sip of her drink. “Where in the world did you get those jeans?”

“My sister sent them to me from Muggle London! I’ll see if I can get you both a pair.”

“Never mind that,” Lavender dismissed with a wave of her hand. “You’ll never believe who’s been eyeing you up all night.”

“Lav, unless it’s literally Dave Franco I couldn’t care less.” You reached out your hand, trying to encourage her to dance with you instead of telling you about more boys.

“Oh, I promise it’s good.” She eyed you intently and you let out a heavy breath, reluctantly giving her a nod of assent. Drawing close to you, she leaned over and whispered in your ear. “Mattheo Riddle.”

You froze, your eyes wide.

She looked back at you, grinning. “See, didn’t I tell you?”

Mattheo Riddle was, quite possibly, the most attractive guy at Hogwarts. Unfortunately, the two of you had a rather…regrettable history.

“Well of course he is, this is a great outfit.” Smoothing your jeans, you couldn't quite make yourself believe your words. You were horrified at how quickly your usual self-assurance had faltered at the mention of him.

During your first year at Hogwarts, when you were a shy and awkward new student still trying to plant your feet in the magical world, you’d developed a huge crush on Mattheo. Every time he’d enter a room you were in, it was like he’d stolen the breath from your chest – your voice grew quiet and your hands shaky. You’d never felt such a strong attraction to anyone, and you’d thought that you might die if he didn’t notice you. Though you initially expected the feeling to fade, it only grew stronger until you were spending endless lessons sneaking glances at him from across the classroom.

In your third year, you’d finally summoned the courage to ask him on a date. With a deep breath, you’d smoothed your frizzy hair and your wrinkled school robes as best as you could and approached him and his friends at the Slytherin table during breakfast. Your voice quiet and shaky, you’d asked if he would like to go to Hogsmeade with you. He’d asked you to repeat yourself, and, with your face burning, you’d done so. Then he’d looked you in the eye and laughed in your face, all of his friends laughing with him. By the end of the day, the whole school knew what had happened. It was the most embarrassing moment of your life.

“What are you waiting for?” Lavender’s voice snapped you back to reality and you blinked. “Go over there and flaunt how good you look in his face.” She nodded towards the corner where several members of the Slytherin Quidditch team stood, including Mattheo.

You raised an eyebrow. “If he wants to see me so badly, he can come over here himself.”

She eyed you incredulously for a moment before laughing with a shake of her head. “You’re my hero.”

It was safe to say that you were nothing like the timid little girl you’d been back then. Fourth year was when things really began to change for you – improving your flying skills and joining the Gryffindor Quidditch team had done wonders for your confidence. You’d also grown more assured in your magical skills, discovering a natural talent for Ancient Runes and delving into the world of cursebreaking. To top it all off, during the summer between fourth and fifth year, you and your older sister had started doing weekly self-care nights together and you’d fallen in love with your new skincare and makeup routine. Once you returned to Hogwarts for your fifth year, you seemed to glow from the inside out. You were so content with your little world – your friends, your teammates, your future plans – that you didn’t even notice the stares that you’d begun to attract until the other Gryffindor girls pointed them out to you. Since then, the attention of boys wasn’t something you had to wish for in the Great Hall, looking longingly at the Slytherin table. You could choose to take it or leave it on any given day; it was always available in spades.

One thing hadn’t changed, though. You still avoided Mattheo and his friends, even though you were now in your seventh year at Hogwarts. Though you could occasionally feel their cold stares on your skin along with those of others in class and at parties, you never ventured anywhere near them and they never approached you. When you’d dated Roger, he would wrap his arm around your shoulders and glower in their direction when he saw their eyes wandering, but you didn’t need his protection anymore. Your confidence alone kept them at a safe distance.

This confidence suddenly began to waver as you turned around to continue dancing and saw the occupants of the dance floor hastily parting to make way for a familiar head of curly black hair.

“No way.” Parvati stared at the approaching figure, eyes wide. “Come on!” She pulled Lavender to the side, away from you in an effort to, presumably, make room for Mattheo.

“No, guys, don’t leave, I –” Your protests were futile as they disappeared into the crowd. Spinning around, you frantically searched for Ginny, but saw that she was some distance away now, her arms twining around Harry’s neck. Your stomach sank. There was no way you were going to cross her mind anytime soon. Reluctantly, you turned back around and your chest tightened as you found yourself face to face with Mattheo Riddle.

You let out a deep breath. He’s literally just some guy.

“Riddle.”

A spark of pride ignited in your chest as you heard the sound of your own assured, even voice in the air. You raised your eyebrows, sizing him up. To his credit, he didn’t waver from your gaze.

“Sweetheart.” It would've been flattering if you hadn't heard him call a thousand girls stupid nicknames in passing. His voice was flat and unreadable, and Firewhiskey swirled in the cup he held in his hand. His deep brown eyes swept up your body, sending a tingle across your skin. “Enjoying yourself?”

“Always.” Your ego rose forward in your voice. There was a siren singing in your chest, begging you to dash this man across the rocks if he gave you the opportunity. You were ready to indulge her. “What brings you over to my little corner of the world?" Trying to push down the swirl of emotions in your mind, you took a step towards him.

“Figured you’d prefer my company to Smith’s.” His voice twinged with bitterness as he nodded to your right. You glanced over your shoulder to see the approaching figure of a stumbling Zacharias Smith. Mattheo met your step forward with one of his own, and suddenly he was close enough to touch.

“You sound awfully certain.” Your lips lilted upwards in a slight, amused smile.

“Looking good, gorgeous!” The alcohol-soaked tones of Smith’s voice drifted across the common room over the music. With a smug glimmer in your eye, you saw Mattheo’s frown as you turned towards the Hufflepuff boy instead.

“Feeling good, Zachy!” You stuck out your tongue playfully and he shot you an approving grin. However, your expression quickly sobered as you felt Mattheo’s fingers digging into the flesh of your hips possessively. You had half a mind to smack him, but Zacharias had already changed course away from the two of you. Once Smith had cleared the area, Mattheo turned back to you.

“Zachy?” His low drawl was disapproving as his dark eyes bored into yours. He raised one incredulous eyebrow. Meeting his gaze, you rested a hand on his chest. You didn’t miss the way his eyes darkened as your fingers grazed his skin.

“What?” You eyed him innocently and he scoffed, shaking his head.

“You’re unbelievable.”

Your sweet smile fell like a proscenium curtain. “I should be very believable to you, all things considered.” Fixing him with the same dry glare he was giving you, you looked him up and down. The whole school knew about Mattheo’s tendency to snog a different girl in a broom cupboard every week – he had remarkably little room to judge. “Get to the point or go away, Riddle.”

You were certain that he would pick the latter, and frankly, part of you felt relief at the thought of him disappearing into the crowd. His unexplained presence in front of you, his dark eyes boring into your psyche, his strong hands wrapped tightly around your hips as if he wanted to claim you, though you weren’t his…it was all too much. Being around other guys didn’t feel this way. To your surprise though, he just gave a wry laugh.

“The point was keeping you safe from the likes of Smith.”

You rolled your eyes. “You know perfectly well that I don’t need a bodyguard. I promise some Hufflepuff won’t end me.”

He gritted his teeth ever so slightly. “It’s not about that.”

“Then what is this about, hmm?”

Pausing, he seemed to deliberate before opening his mouth again. “You looked great on the pitch today.”

“Why, thank you.” You gave a nonplussed nod, knowing that he was still holding back. “If you’re in the mood to talk Quidditch, you ought to go have a chat with Weasley. She put up even more points than I did.”

His grip on your hips tightened as he pulled you flush to his chest, making you inhale with surprise.

“Is this all just a game to you?” His hot breath tickled your ear, sending a chill down your spine as his hand rose to your face, his thumb stroking your cheek and his fingers coming to rest on the back of your neck. “You know exactly why I’m here.”

That siren in your chest could feel her desire in her grasp, but it wasn’t enough. You hungered for him to lay all of his cards out on the table, to know the vulnerability you’d once felt every moment you were in his presence.

“I haven’t the foggiest, actually.” Your eyes flicked up to meet his and you fluttered your eyelashes at him. The stormy look in his eyes, as dark as the Black Lake when thunder rang out above the castle, told you that he saw right through your innocent act. Still, he had no choice but to play along or walk away. Lip curling ever so slightly, his hold on you tightened impossibly further.

“You look so good, I feel like I’m going crazy.” His lips grazed your ear imperceptibly, his strained whisper echoing in your mind. "You want to hear it? Fine. That's why I'm here, even though from the first step I took I knew you were going to laugh in my face.”

For a moment, you paused, allowing the victory to radiate through your body like warmth. Yet with it came an anger – at his nerve to even approach, at the fact that his presence had caused memories of your past to come flooding back, at the infuriating arrogance and short temper he’d never managed to shake. Stirring beneath was a fear, too. Though you pushed it down, the desire he awoke in you was agonizing. Composing yourself, you leaned back, hanging off his neck so that you could look him in the eye.

“Aww, Matty.” With a mocking pout, you gently patted his shoulder. “I would never.”

The words hung powerfully in the air despite your banter. No matter how many admirers you kept at arm’s length, you would never act like he did, never stoop so low. As he looked back at you, you could tell that the implication of your words wasn’t lost on him.

“Then dance with me.”

“I would never do that either.” The desire in his gaze quickly gave way to a brief flash of anger as you untwined your arms from around his neck and stepped out of his grip. He quickly hid the emotion under his usual unfeeling veneer. You turned your back on him before looking over your shoulder. “There. Is that settled?”

You could tell he was coming after you before you even felt his fingers wrap around your wrist. Somehow, though, you still felt your body tense with shock when you found yourself pulled back to him.

“Please.”

The simple word seemed to silence the room for a split second. Mattheo Riddle didn’t ask nicely for anything – you wondered how many times he’d used the word in his life and whether he might be able to count them on one hand. But in his voice, wavering ever so slightly, there was a hint of the desperation you’d once known so well, the feeling that only he had ever been able to bring out of you. The word he'd spoken had so many possible implications – forgive me, let me have a second chance, don’t hurt me – but for Mattheo, you knew it had only one meaning. Give me what I want.

Your eyes flicked to his lips, ever so slightly parted, then back up to his deep brown eyes as he pulled you in closer.

“Show me how badly you want it, then.”

KINKTOBER #3– SUNKEN AND SPELLBOUND / mattheo riddle

october 7th no smut in this part

part one part two

mattheo riddle x fem reader

summary: mattheo can’t helped but be absolutely entranced when he meets a siren at the black lake. are you luring him in on purpose or is he just obsessed with you?

warnings: siren!reader, tension, no other warnings really, this is just context and build up for the smut in part 2

words: 4.1k

a/n: if this wasn’t for kinktober, i would’ve made it into a full series tbh. also PLEASE watch this video, it heavily inspired this fic and i want you to picture the scene just like this <3

navigation kinktober masterlist

The darkness was palpable. Shadows from the towering trees crept along the edges of the Black Lake as if warning him not to venture too far. The moon hung low, veiled behind wisps of cloud, casting a pale, silver sheen over the still waters. In the center of it all, Mattheo sat alone in a canoe, a single lantern flickering at the bow, its faint glow reflecting off the black water like a shimmering ghost.

He didn’t know what had drawn him here tonight. The Black Lake was no place to linger after dark, not with its depths harboring creatures only whispered about in the corridors of Hogwarts. But something called to him—something unspoken, something that pulled him like an invisible thread until his canoe drifted in the heart of the lake, surrounded by the inky expanse.

That was when he saw you.

At first, it was just a ripple. A disturbance on the otherwise glassy surface, as if the lake itself had shuddered. His eyes sharpened, scanning the water, but there was nothing there. Nothing he could see.

Until there was.

Beneath the surface, just at the edge of his vision, a figure moved. Fluid, graceful, like a shadow cast by the water itself. His heart quickened. He leaned forward, squinting into the depths, but the light from his lantern barely penetrated the water.

And then you rose, your fingers pearlescent and slender as they curled around the edge of his canoe, your skin illuminated in the soft glow. The water slipped off you like silk, your form rising slowly, carefully, until your face emerged from the blackness.

He recognized you at once. Y/N. The quiet girl who sat near the back of the classroom, who rarely spoke and often slipped into the background. But here, in the moonlit silence, you weren’t just a girl anymore. You were something else entirely.

Your eyes glistened like jewels in the dark, reflecting the lantern’s dim light, and your hair clung to your skin, wet and gleaming. He noticed your lips parted, but you said nothing, only staring up at him, as though expecting something.

Mattheo’s breath hitched. What the hell were you doing here? His mind raced. The Black Lake, in the dead of night, in its freezing waters…

His heart pounded, confusion swirling through him. He should have turned back, he should have rowed away, left you there in the cold and silence of the lake. But he couldn’t move. He was stuck, entranced, his eyes locked on yours.

Without a word, you began to sink again, fingers still holding onto the edge of the canoe. Your eyes never left his, even as you descended, your face tilting ever so slightly beneath the surface, lips dipping just below the water’s edge.

No. He couldn’t let you disappear like that. He had too many questions. He just needed to remember how to speak. He leaned forward, his body tilting dangerously, lantern in hand, face following yours, his breath shallow and ragged. He should have stopped. He knew it was reckless. But something about you, something in the stillness of your expression, the way you slipped away like a ghost—he couldn’t let it happen.

Closer. His face hovered over the water, his lips mere inches from where yours had been just moments before. His hand trembled, his fingers clutching the lantern like a lifeline, but still, he leaned further, chasing you as you sank lower and lower.

Then, in an instant, you were gone.

The water rippled where you had been, as if you had never existed at all.

Mattheo’s chest tightened. He blinked, staring into the empty space where you’d vanished. The cold air bit at his skin, his fingers aching from gripping the lantern too hard. His mind whirled.

He’d just witnessed something no one else had. Something no one knew.

Y/N—quiet, kind, reserved Y/N—was a siren.

He couldn’t tear his eyes away from the water, as if waiting for you to resurface, as if hoping for another glimpse of you in that strange, beautiful, terrifying form. His breath fogged in the night air, his heart pounding in his ears. He should have been scared. He should have been terrified. But despite the fact that he hardly knew you at all, all he could feel was an aching need to see you again.

And he did. Night after night.

Every evening, just before the moon reached its peak, he would return to the lake.

“I know who you are,” he’d called out one night, his voice low, echoing across the lake’s stillness. His words hung in the air, unanswered, as his eyes searched the dark water, desperate for any sign of you. His heart thudded heavily in his chest, each beat punctuated by the endless silence that stretched between them.

For a long time, there was nothing. The lake remained eerily calm, as though it had swallowed every secret and refused to give anything back.

Then, a movement.

Barely there, just beneath the surface, your head lifted. Your eyes—those same, hauntingly beautiful eyes—peeked up at him from the depths, shimmering in the moonlight. You didn’t rise, didn’t reveal yourself fully, but your gaze met his, intense and unblinking.

And in that moment, everything else ceased to exist.

“Talk to me,” he pleaded softly, hoping you could hear him when your ears were still beneath the surface.

The air between you crackled with unspoken intensity, a tension he couldn’t explain but didn’t want to escape. You were so close, yet so far—just out of his reach, just beneath the water where no one could follow. Your hair fanned out around you like tendrils of darkness, floating in the cold lake. The way you watched him, unblinking and unreadable, sent a chill down his spine.

But this time, you didn’t run. You stayed.

Mattheo’s breath quickened, the cold air burning in his lungs. He didn’t understand this—whatever this was. The fear he had felt that first night was gone, replaced by something far more dangerous. Curiosity. Hunger.

"Y/N," he whispered, his voice barely audible over the soft lapping of water against the canoe. He wanted to say more, to ask you the questions that burned in his mind—What are you? Why are you here? But all of it felt useless in the face of this moment.

You blinked slowly, your gaze unwavering. Then, as if in response to his voice, you rose just a little higher, your lips barely brushing the surface of the water. It was a silent invitation, one that made his pulse quicken and his body move forward of its own accord.

Mattheo leaned down, his face just inches from yours now. His breath ghosted over your skin and he could feel the pull towards you like gravity, something deeper than desire, darker than fascination.

“You should go,” you murmured, your voice soft but firm, like the pull of the tide. Your words clung to the air, drawing out the tension between you both, but Mattheo didn’t move. His brow furrowed as he stared down at you, the cold biting his skin, though it was nothing compared to the chill he felt from the thought of leaving.

“Why?” he whispered back, eyes searching your face for answers you seemed unwilling to give. You remained silent, lips parting as if to respond, but no words came. Instead, you sank lower into the water, your fingers beginning to slip from the edge of the canoe.

Mattheo’s hand shot out before he could think, fingers wrapping around your wrist, cold and slick from the lake’s depths. For a moment, you froze, your gaze snapping back to his, your dark eyes widening slightly at his boldness.

“You keep coming back, Mattheo,” you said finally, the words heavy with meaning. “Why?”

He smirked, the corner of his mouth quirking up, but there was something darker behind his grin. “Maybe I’m just a glutton for punishment.”

Your expression didn’t change. Serious, still unreadable, but there was a flicker of something in your eyes—something he couldn’t quite place. “This isn’t a game.”

“Who said anything about a game?” Mattheo leaned closer, his voice dropping to a low, teasing murmur. “I think I just like seeing you like this. Out here. Alone.” His grip on your wrist tightened ever so slightly, thumb brushing along your skin in a way that sent shivers up your arm. “You sure you’re not the one who keeps pulling me back?”

You held his gaze for a moment longer before shaking your head slowly, pulling your arm free from his grip. “You don’t understand,” you whispered, your voice almost too soft to hear. “You shouldn’t keep coming back.”

A chuckle escaped his lips, light and playful, contrasting the tension hanging between you. “Yeah, well, too bad. It’s a little too late for that, guppy.”

The nickname, meant to irritate, had the desired effect. Your eyes narrowed, and you clicked your tongue in disapproval, pushing yourself a little further from the boat, but you didn’t leave. “Don’t call me that.”

“Why not?” He leaned back casually, resting one arm on the side of the canoe as if he had all the time in the world. “It suits you.”

You huffed, though the irritation in your gaze didn’t seem as sharp as it could have been. “It’s not funny.”

Mattheo raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying himself. “Didn’t say it was.”

Despite your stern demeanor, there was a faint softness to the way you watched him now, as if the constant back-and-forth had become something familiar. Something comforting, even if you wouldn’t admit it. He couldn’t help but smirk.

“Mattheo,” you warned, though your voice had lost some of its edge.

“I’ll stop… when you give me a better name,” he shot back, winking. “Something less aquatic.”

You rolled your eyes but said nothing, sinking just beneath the surface once more, your hair floating like dark silk around you. Yet you stayed close, your presence lingering, even though you weren’t speaking.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” he murmured to himself, staring down at the rippling water where you hovered just out of reach. He knew you were still there, watching him, listening. He always felt it. And no matter how many times you warned him, no matter how many nights passed, he would keep coming back.

He didn’t even fully understand why—just that he couldn’t stay away.

One night, as he settled into the familiar quiet by the water’s edge, he noticed you already waiting, your head barely visible above the surface. This time, you weren’t shrouded in mystery, not hidden beneath the waves like before. Instead, you floated lazily, your eyes trained on him as he approached, a faint frown tugging at your lips.

“You’re persistent,” you muttered, the water rippling slightly with the movement of your arms.

Mattheo shrugged, smirking as he crouched down by the edge of the lake. “I’m starting to think you like seeing me here every night.”

You scoffed, but didn’t swim away, staying just close enough for him to see the way your eyes sparkled in the low moonlight. “I think it’s more that you like coming back, no matter what I say.”

“Maybe,” he admitted with a nonchalant grin. “But let’s be honest—if you really didn’t want me here, you’d have dragged me into the lake by now.”

You didn’t respond immediately, your gaze flickering toward the horizon as if weighing his words. The silence stretched, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. Over time, you’d both grown accustomed to the quiet moments, the unspoken conversations that said more than words ever could.

Then, without warning, his smirk widened, and his eyes gleamed with mischief. “So, how’s the water tonight, guppy?”

Your eyes snapped back to his, narrowing instantly. “Mattheo, don’t—”

“What?” He feigned innocence, sitting back on his heels, hands raised in mock surrender. “I’m just asking a simple question. I’m curious.”

“You know I hate that name,” you muttered, glaring at him.

He chuckled, clearly unfazed by your frustration. “That’s why I keep using it. I like seeing you get all prickly.”

There was a flicker of something in your eyes—annoyance, maybe, but also something softer. Familiar. You huffed, turning your head slightly as if you could hide the faint amusement creeping into your expression. “You’re impossible.”

“I get that a lot,” he quipped, leaning closer to the water’s edge. “So… what’s the deal? Am I going to get the cold shoulder tonight, or are you going to tell me more about that little secret of yours?”

You sighed, floating a bit closer, your wet hair trailing behind you like dark ribbons in the water. “You really don’t know when to quit, do you?”

“Not when it comes to you, guppy.” He winked, clearly enjoying himself, though his tone carried an undertone of something deeper. Something real. You shook your head, but the smile that threatened to break through was unmistakable.

Here, in the light, you seemed harmless. Beautiful. Enigmatic. But he knew what sirens could do—what they were capable of. The stories of sailors who had been lured to their deaths, enchanted by their beauty, their voices, their pull. The line between danger and desire blurred when it came to creatures like you. When you were human, when the water hadn’t yet overtaken your mind, it felt safe. At least, that was what he told himself.

But now, seeing you here, suspended in the dark waters of the Black Lake, your true form only a whisper beneath the surface, he couldn’t shake the question that haunted him.

What were your limits?

Would you hurt him if he got too close? If he dared to touch you, would you snap, the water consuming you, pulling you into the primal instincts that lived in your siren blood? You hadn’t tried to harm him, not yet. You hadn’t sung—hadn’t used that infamous voice that could drive men mad, make them lose themselves in you.

But what if you did?

Would you sing for him? Would you lure him closer, draw him into the water, and drown him without a second thought?

He leaned his body down closer to the water over the edge of the canoe, his chest tight with anticipation, his heartbeat thundering in his ears. Your lips parted slightly, just a breath away from the surface, your eyes never leaving his.

His voice, low and rough, broke the silence. “Why are you hiding from me?”

Mattheo wondered if this was how it would end—whether he’d be the next victim in a long line of men who had fallen for your kind, chasing after something they could never fully grasp.

But you weren’t like the others. Were you?

And for the first time, Mattheo didn’t care if he drowned.

“I wonder,” Mattheo whispered, his voice barely above the soft lapping of the water, “would you try to drown me if I got closer?”

For a moment, you said nothing. The only sound was the soft ripple of water against the canoe. Then, slowly, you began to rise, hands holding onto the wood of the canoe and pushing you up, your face mere inches from his, water dripping from your hair, your lashes.

“You don’t know what you're asking,” you murmured, your voice low, dangerous, yet strangely gentle.

Your breath brushed against his skin, and for a moment, Mattheo didn’t care about the danger. Didn’t care that you could destroy him in a heartbeat. He leaned closer, his face inches from yours.

“What if I do?” His voice was rough, a challenge wrapped in a whisper.

Your eyes darkened as your fingers reached for his, brushing against his hand, cold and wet. His breath hitched, every nerve in his body screaming for him to pull away, to break the spell you had over him. But he didn’t. He couldn’t.

Because at that moment, he wasn’t sure he wanted to escape.

Your touch was freezing, a sharp contrast to the heat that coiled in his chest. Mattheo’s breath hitched, his heartbeat a thunderous echo in his ears. You were dangerous. Every part of him knew it, but he couldn’t bring himself to pull away.

Your eyes flickered, a brief flash of something—was it hunger? Or was it fear?

Your hand lingered against his, the touch ghosting over his skin as if testing the boundary between you, seeing how far you could push before he would flinch. But Mattheo didn’t flinch. He couldn’t. He wanted to know—needed to know—what you were thinking. Were you holding back, controlling the primal urges that lived inside you, or were you toying with him, drawing him deeper into your web until it was too late to escape?

His lips parted, breath shallow as he whispered, “Why don’t you sing?”

Your gaze snapped to his, sharp, calculating. For a moment, he thought you might laugh, or lash out, but instead, your lips curved into the faintest of smiles, one that didn’t quite reach your eyes.

“Because I don’t need to,” you said, your voice as smooth as the surface of the lake, a dark promise lurking beneath. His pulse quickened at your words.

You didn’t need to sing, didn’t need to lure him with your voice, because he was already yours.

You had him in the palm of your hand without needing to utter a single note. The realization hit him like a punch to the gut—he wasn’t in control here. He never had been.

Your fingers trailed up his hand, your touch sending a shiver down his spine as you slowly, deliberately, let them travel up his wrist. Your eyes never left his, locked in a gaze that felt like it could see straight through him, peel back every layer of his defenses until there was nothing left but raw need.

He knew what sirens were famous for. But this—this felt different. you weren't luring him, weren’t pulling him under the water. You were just... watching. Waiting. And that was almost more terrifying than the alternative.

His chest tightened, the weight of the unknown pressing down on him. He was playing with fire, dancing on the edge of something he couldn’t fully understand. And yet, despite every instinct telling him to pull back, to run, he leaned in closer, his lips almost brushing yours as he whispered, “What are you going to do to me?”

“Whatever I want,” you murmured.

His hand reached out before he could stop himself, fingers brushing against your wet skin, slick and cold beneath his touch. You didn’t flinch. Didn’t move. Just watched him with those dark, unreadable eyes as if daring him to go further.

“You’re here every night,” you said, your voice soft, carrying across the stillness of the lake. There was something different about you tonight—something more vulnerable, almost hesitant. “Every night, you return with your silly little lantern and row into the middle of the pitch-black water. Why do you return every night?”

Mattheo swallowed hard, the knot in his throat tightening. He didn’t have an answer, not one he could put into words. Why did he come back? Why did he risk everything—his sanity, his safety—just to be close to you?

“You think you could follow me?” Your voice was cool, almost mocking, but there was an undercurrent of something else, something darker. “You’d drown, Mattheo.”

“I know how to swim, guppy.”

Your lips curved into a sad, knowing smile, your eyes dropping for a second, as if what you were about to say cost you something. “You know that’s not what I meant.”

The silence between you stretched, the air thick with tension, your gaze searching his, calculating like always—but this time, there was a flicker of doubt. Your voice softened, barely a whisper as your words faltered for the first time. “I… I could…”

Mattheo leaned forward, his heart pounding in his chest, his voice quiet but urgent. “What could you do?”

“I could take you under.” Your eyes met his, wide and filled with a fear he’d never seen in you before. “And I don’t know if I’d let you come back up.”

The words hung in the air, a cold truth that settled deep in his bones. Mattheo’s breath caught in his throat. He knew the danger—he felt it. You weren’t just telling him that you could kill him, that you could drown him and drag his body down into the depths forever. You were warning him that if he got too close, if he pushed too far, you might not have a choice. That your nature might take over, and he would be lost.

But instead of pulling back, instead of retreating like any sane person would, Mattheo felt a wild thrill rush through his veins. He leaned in closer, his voice low and reckless. “And what if I want that? What if I want to drown?”

“You’re playing a dangerous game, Mattheo.”

A dangerous game. Of course he was. This whole thing had been dangerous from the start. From the moment he saw you in the water that first night. He wasn’t stupid—he knew that sirens lured men to their deaths. But the more he watched you, the more he realized something was different.

You hadn’t tried to hurt him.

Not yet.

“I’ve been coming here for weeks,” he said, his voice almost teasing, though the tension still held him in its grip. “Shouldn’t you have tried to, I don’t know, eat me or drown me by now? Or whatever it is that you sirens do?”

Your lips twitched, the faintest hint of a smile tugging at the corners. But it didn’t reach your eyes, which remained dark and heavy with unspoken fears. “You don’t know what you’re talking about,” you whispered.

“I care about you,” he said, his voice quiet but firm, the words slipping out before he could stop them.

Your eyes snapped to his, the vulnerability back, your lips parting as if to argue, but nothing came out. You just stared at him, frozen for a beat too long before moving forward to grip the edge of the canoe once more. “You don’t even know me.”

He laughed softly, shaking his head. “I’m obsessed with you.”

Your grip on the canoe loosened, fingers dipping beneath the surface again as you drifted back, your face slowly sinking into the water once more, his eyes holding yours until you were just a shadow beneath the surface.

The moon reflected on the water, casting a pale glow over the lake, and Mattheo leaned forwards over the edge of the canoe, his chest rising and falling as he tried to calm his racing heart. His mind whirled with thoughts of you, with the danger, the thrill, the temptation. He could still feel you, the ghost of your touch lingering on his skin, and it drove him mad.

He was playing a dangerous game, but he didn’t care.

Mattheo's breath hitched, his gaze locking on your lips, so close yet agonizingly out of reach. He wanted nothing more than to dive into the cold, murky depths of the lake, to feel your skin against his, to be surrounded, enraptured by you in every way possible.

"I need to be closer to you," he whispered, his voice rough with the raw desire he could barely contain.

Your eyes flickered with something that looked almost like fear. You backed away just the slightest, your fingers loosening their grip. "Mattheo, you don't understand what I am," you murmured, voice barely above a breath, the hesitation clear. "I can be dangerous."

The way you said it—like you were something to be feared, like you were the monster lurking in the shadows—only made him want you more. His heart pounded in his chest, every beat urging him closer, whispering that this was exactly where he was supposed to be.

"Then be dangerous," he answered, leaning forward, closing the gap between the two of you. He could see the inner struggle in your eyes, the battle you fought against yourself. But he wasn't afraid. He never had been. “Be dangerous, Y/N.”

You stayed still, lips parted as if you wanted to speak, to warn him again, but no words came. And then, with a quiet exhale, you pressed yourself closer to the canoe, your face just inches from his. "You see beauty," you whispered, voice trembling as your eyes searched his face. "But there's darkness in me, Mattheo."

His heart clenched at the vulnerability in your voice, the admission you'd been holding back for so long. you weren't telling him something new—he knew. He'd always known. But it didn't matter to him.

"I'm not afraid of the dark," he murmured, his words steady, resolute.

He didn't give you a chance to respond. Before you could stop him, before he could second guess his decision, Mattheo pushed the lantern aside and let himself slide off the edge of the canoe.

kinktober taglist: @mattheoriddles-slutt @theeslutintheroom @esmerai-artemis @gigival @cloudyyydayzzz @sn000py @abeoavita @yesiamthatwierd @shaquilles-0atmeal @roseofsharron438 @iouinotes @romantasyreader28 @c3liaaaaa @sleepiibunniiii @chemtrailsoverhogwarts @daenerystorgayren @emma-grace0 @tori-303 @ilovehpb0ys

⛧༺ NO BODY, NO CRIME ༻⛧

EPISODE 02: no, there ain't no doubt

pairing: theo nott x potter!reader

summary: you and theo begin to investigate the murder, while trying to keep the operation under wraps and each other save from the killer

warnings: extremely big trigger warning for the whole series, in this chapter: mentions of blood, a corpse, murder

note: hello guys, welcome back to the second episode of nbnc!! i hope you like it so far! if you have any theories, do not be shy and share them in the comments!!!

you were staring at the wall across from you. dumbledores office was different than you would have imagined. you could hear the teachers voice, but it didn’t really reach your eyes, your mind wandering back and forth between what had happened prior.

professor burbages face was such a clear image in your mind. way too clear, way too disturbing. you could feel her eyes linger on you, feel the pain that had etched itself onto her features and the wetness of the blood on your fingers, that you had picked up as you had fallen back into the snow.

you felt theo’s arms around you, as he pulled you into the castle. you had felt his quick heartbeat against your ear, his shaky breath had been louder than yours and you hadn’t been able to stand on your own. 

“it’s okay” he had muttered, pressing you to his chest, as if to shield you from every bad thing in the world. “you’re okay” his voice was muffled as he spoke into your hair, hiding his own face as if to gain some sort of comfort from the close proximity.

“did you see anyone?” mcgonagalls voice reached your ears and your mind broke free off the memory.  

you shook your head, not having the ability to speak. theo send a worried glance in your direction. you were fiddeling with your hands in your lap, the look of terror still on your face. 

“there was no one there” theo said. “we didn’t hear or see anything apart from what we told you” his voice had grown aggravated through all the questions you had had to answer. “can we please continue this another time?” 

“just a few more questions, mr. nott” dumbledore said softly, holding a bowl filled with lemon drops towards you. both theo and you shook your head. 

theo sighed, but nodded at the professor’s request. then, all of a sudden, he reached over and took your hand in his, so you could hold onto something and knew that he was there. 

you looked up and theo send you a reassuring smile. 

you ended up at the common room at half past three. the questioning had continued all throughout the night, with the teachers grappling to find answers. you were sure that they knew more than you, as they exchanged mysterious glances at everything theo and you told them. 

you couldn’t stop thinking about it and you were so incredibly scared. you wished theo was there, he was the only one that understood what you were going through. 

you climbed the stairs to your dorm, deciding that it was to no use to sit around the common room all alone. hermione was fast asleep when you opened the door. the teachers had probably informed them that you were being held back, but probably without disclosing the real reason. 

you got rid of your uniform and changed into your pyjama. you took another glance at hermione, before you quietly walked to her bed and crawled under the blanket. she stirred a bit in her sleep, but didn’t wake up, as you pushed your face into the pillow next to her. 

you needed some sort of comfort and just knowing she was there was enough to send you to sleep, the exhaustion taking over before your mind could wander back to the nights events again. 

the next morning, the castle felt strangely quiet. you awoke after hermione, who had probably already left for breakfast or something else. for a moment, you simply lay there, staring at the ceiling, letting the stillness linger. but the memories crept back in as they always did—professor burbage’s face, the coldness of the snow, and the horror that gripped you when you realized something was terribly wrong.

you slipped out of hermione’s bed, there was no point in staying any longer, pretending that a few more hours of sleep could wash away what had happened. your limbs felt heavy as you dressed, your mind replaying the details over and over. every time you closed your eyes, it was there again—her face, twisted with fear, and the blood, so much of it, on your hands.

downstairs, the common room was empty, except for theo, who was waiting for you. his back was turned, his posture rigid as he stared into the fireplace.

“theo” you said in surprise. he turned around and send you a soft smile. 

“i couldn’t sleep much” he muttered, “thought you might want some company”

“but the password?”

“it was way too easy to find out” he shook his head, laughing softly. “you guys should better change it” he added, a bit more worried, realizing the danger a security breach like that held. 

you quickly nodded, your eyes wandering over his features that softened when he noticed  the tears brimming in your eyes. 

he stepped closer, opening his arms, so you could cry against his chest. 

“i’m sorry” you muttered, ruffling your nose. “i’m sorry” 

“what for?” theo asked, voice calm and warm like he could send all your fears to sleep with a simple word. “you saw something terrible and rightfully it messed you up, it messed me up too” 

“i’m glad you here” you whispered and you could feel him nod his head. “you’re the only one who understands” 

“just like you” he smiled as you stepped back. “but i’m also here because of something else” he waited for your permission to explain. 

“go on” you urged, cleaning the left over tears from your face with the back of your hand. 

his hand went into the pocket of his trousers and he took out a folded piece of paper that he then held in your direction. you took it and opened it up. “professor burbage had that with her. outside” 

your eyes studied the symbol on the paper. it looked familiar, but you couldn’t quite place it. the lines were sharp, forming an intricate design that seemed purposeful, almost like a rune. your heart started to race as you stared at the symbol, trying to pull the memory from the back of your mind.

“i’ve seen this before” you whispered, but your voice was uncertain. “i don’t know where, but i’ve definitely seen it”

theo leaned closer, his eyes scanning the paper along with you. “i thought the same thing when i found it. it was clenched in her hand. almost like… like she was trying to hold on to it.”

“did dumbledore see this?” you asked alarmed. “why did you take it?” 

“i didn’t think properly before i did, it was the first thing that i saw, i realized only later that she had probably held it in her hand. otherwise it would’ve been wet”

“this is evidence, theo” you shook your head, brushing back your hair with the piece of paper still in your hand. “you can’t just take evidence from a crime scene!” you scolded.

“well, i didn’t know it was a crime scene when i took it” he excused. “apart from that, maybe the rune entails a secret message or something? something the killer could’ve used to get burbage outside” 

your eyes widened, before you quickly nodded. “okay” you pushed the paper back into his hand. “what do we do now? go to dumbledore and tell him?” “because that worked so great before” theo said softly, but you could hear the annoyance in his voice.

“he just said that we can’t be sure it’s a murder” 

“well it looked like a bloody murder, didn’t it?” he grimaced, “all the blood” 

“yeah” you agreed. “it definetly did. but what do you suggest if we won’t tell dumbledore? who could we tell then?”

“no one” theo shrugged. “we keep it between us, until we find out more”

“find out more?” you asked surprised. “do i look like sherlock holmes to you?”

“no, but you come close to doctor watson” 

“ha ha” you shook your head and crossed your arms, before you thought fot a second. “alright” you finally said “let’s get some breakfast, i might know someone who can help with that” 

he nodded, ready to leave the common room, but you held him back by his arm. “but not together, no one should know what we’re trying to find out. and no word about professor burbage, we don’t even know if it’s public knowledge yet”

“okay” theo muttered. “for someone who claims to have no idea about this, it comes to you pretty naturally”

“i’ve read a lot” you shrugged, but couldn’t bite back the smile that crept onto your face. “come on” 

theo and you split up. you sat down at the gryffindor table next to ron and across from harry, while theo wandered off to the slytherin table to join his own friends.

“morning” harry greeted. “where have you been so long?” he wondered, before he raised his brows and touched your cheek. “have you been crying?” 

you shook your head, quickly wiping over your cheeks to get rid of the remaining wetness. “no” you muttered. you couldn’t even trust your own voice. theo and you had sworn not to tell anyone what you knew and that probably included your brother. he would find out soon enough anyway.

“good morning” dumbledores voice rang out loud and clear throughout the hall, before harry had the chance to question you further. “something terrible happened yesterday” he paused for a second, before he added. “professor burbage has been found dead”

ein raunen??? went through the hall, as gazes were exchanged and heavy whisper broke through. 

you looked at theo across from you. neither of you had thought that the teachers would share the news so fast.

“we can’t be sure what happened yet, but professor slughorn is currently trying to inform the aurors in the hope that we will soon have an answer to every question you might have” he smiled softly. “for now, please remain calm and—“

the door to the great hall flew open, revealing professor slughorn, who quickly hurried inside. “albus!” he called loudly, not caring who was listening “the castle—, it’s been” he shook his head, as if to try and rearrange his mind. “a terrible snowstorm has cut every tie to the outside world” he finished, having reached the teachers table, face reddened and trying to catch his breath. 

no one in the hall dared to matter a word, not even ron, as the three of you stared up at the teachers table where dumbledore and slughorn were hurriedly whispering with each other. 

“alright, alright” dumbledore nodded finally, as slughorn sank down in his seat. mcgonagall slightly tapped his shoulder in comfort, but slughorn looked like he was about to faint as he wept a hand through his thinning hair. 

“it seems like another problem just introduced itself” dumbledore’s smile was unwavering, but you noticed a hint of discomfort it in his face. the same discomfort he had worn the day before, when you had told him about professor burbage. “it’s seems that a magically forged storm has reached the hogwarts grounds. there is no need to worry, as this will be taken care of. as stated before, please remain calm and make sure to stay together and continue on with your day” 

“magically forged?” harry muttered. “and what about professor burbage? what does she have to do with everything?”

“i don’t know” you replied warily, locking eyes with theo across the hall, before you nodded to the door. “i have to go” you told harry and ron, before you got up to leave. 

“what? where?” harry tried to reach for your hand, but you drew it back quickly. “you’re acting strange, y/n. what’s going on?” 

“nothing” you shook your head, quickly searching for an answer that would leave him satisfied. “well, i have this uh— girl problem that i need to talk to hermione about” you eventually replied, acting as if you were embarassed. 

“oh” harry muttered, while ron’s cheeeks quickly grew rosy, as he averted his eyes. “okay, then go on” harry encouraged uncomfortably. “but, let me know if you need, uh, any help, yeah?” 

you nodded and finally left the hall with a last wave to your friends. “bye” they answered your greeting, before they quickly turned their heads, falling into conversation with neville and ginny. 

theo, who had caught your hint, met you in the corridor outside the great hall. “did you know they would tell everyone?” you blurtet out as soon as he arrived. 

“what? no” he shook his head. “what’s even worse is the storm. do you think there’s a connection?” 

“maybe the killer is not finished” you muttered, finger pressed to your chin, thinking. 

theo kept silent, watching you with wide eyes, as he thought about what you said. “that means—“

“yeah” you nodded “he’s still here and his next victim is too” 

“shit” theo shook his head, his hair moving and a few curls falling into his eyes. he tried to push them back, but it was to no use. his hair perfectly displayed how he was feeling on the inside. he sighed. “you might be right, but we have a chance to stop him, before anyone else gets hurt, so what do we do? you said you knew someone who could help with the rune?”

“hermione” you simply answered. 

“of course” theo smirked. “who else?” 

as you had expected hermione hadn’t been at breakfast, not so late in the morning at least. not even the approaching christmas feist was an excuse for her to rest. 

you found her in the library, sitting at a table, accompanied by various stacks of books. she was concentrating on a piece of parchment, as her finger expertelly swerved over the book in front of her. 

“wait” theo said, holding your arm, before you could walk around the shelf you were standing behind. 

“what?” 

“maybe i should wait here” theo shrugged. “we agreed to tell no one that we are trying to find out more, remember?” 

“yeah, uh, of course” you nodded, outstretching your hand to take the piece of paper with the rune on it into your own hand. 

“i’ll wait here” theo promised and you smiled at his assurence. 

hermione didn’t even look up when you called her name. she blessed you with ignorance, as she turned the page of her book. 

“oh, y/n” she finally said, when you repeated the calling. she pushed one of the stacks of books to the side, so she could have a proper look at you. “are you alright?” she asked, brows furrowed as she stared at you in deep concentration. 

you answered her question with a stunned expression to which she sighed, concluding she had to explain herself. “well, you slept in my bed last night, which you only do if you’re feeling unwell or scared” she paused and took another look at you “and you’re in the library before eleven” 

“maybe i just wanted to sleep next to someone?” you muttered, cheeks turning red as you thought about theo hearing that you had been so scared the night before you had to sleep in someone elses bed.

hermione shot you a look that clearly said, con’t be ridiculous. 

“okay, fine” you nodded. “professor burbage was found dead. i found her” 

“i know” hermione said as if you were talking about the weather. 

“how?” you asked confused. “dumbledore only announced it before i came here”

“you speak in your sleep” hermione informed. “i went here as soon as i finished eating. i’m trying to find out something about the magically forged snow storm outside”

“how did you—“

“my parent’s letter arrives every tuesday, eight a.m. sharp. this morning it didn’t” she shrugged. “that could only have two reasons: first, my parents forgot to send it, which they never did in six years and let’s be honest, they’re dentists”

you nodded, as if you understood the correlation between the punctuality of letters and dentists. 

“or” she went on “somehow the owls had a problem coming through, which they never had before, not in a thousand years” she pointed to the edition of a history of magic in front of you. “then i took a look outside and there it was: snowstorm” 

“yeah, okay” you nodded, impressed that she had found out all of that on her own. 

“so, what do you need my help with?”

“how do you—“

hermione sighed. heavy. “library, you, eleven a.m., remember?”

“sorry” you winced, before you held the piece of paper in her direction. “professor burbage held this in her hand when i found her”

“this is evi—“

“it’s just a copy” you quickly lied, not willing to risk her going to dumbledore about this. she was your best friend, but she was still hermione. 

hermione inspected the paper, before she sighed once more. “would you please tell nott to stop hiding behind the shelf? his eagerness is distracting me”

you didn’t even question how she knew about that, as theo stepped around the shelf and into the open. “hey, granger” 

“hello” hermione didn’t even aknowledge the boy, instead she kept staring at the rune. “so you were there too, huh?” she finally said, as she gave the paper back to you.

“huh?” theo muttered, taken aback by her question.

“how did she look?” hermione continued without being fazed by theo’s lack of an answer, it seemed that she had already made up her mind about his involvement. “was there blood?”

“a lot” you nodded.

“well, it was obviously murder” hermione concluded. “but not by magic as it seems.”

“so you don’t know what this is?” you asked. she had not mentioned anything about the rune. “i think i have seen it before, it seems familiar”

“of course i know what it is” hermione replied almost offended. “and you recognize it, because you have seen it before. it was the coat of arms for an old underground organization at hogwarts— the nocturne society”

“of course” theo smiled in recognition. “it apparently got forbidden a few years ago”

“and rightfully so” hermione nodded, as she pushed one of the opened book into yours and theo’s direction. “here. they had connections to the dark arts, sometimes ended in some real trouble”

you overflew the passages, which talked about various incidents where the doing of the organization had led to injuries or other incidents in the school and grounds around it. 

“well, why whould someone draw the coat of arms on a piece of paper and give that to professor burbage?” you wondered. 

“maybe to threaten her?” theo shrugged. 

“actually” hermione interrupted, her voice cutting through the room as she glanced between you and theo. “it’s warning a warning. there have been rumors that the organization had returned, with new members of course, but this was always their way of warning those who came too close to their business”

“so professor burbage might have found out about something she shouldn’t” you concluded. “but would one of them go as far as murder? i mean if it’s someone from the nocturne society it has to be a student, right?”

hermione nodded. “a students with a broken moral compass and no fear of rules”

“i think rules are the least of their worries, granger” theo laughed. 

hermione crossed her arms, unimpressed. “well, i wouldn’t know about any of those deliqeunts” she looked between the two of you, before she added “but i hear your friend riddle has a special appreciation for the dark arts—and certainly no less for forbidden underground organizations.”

you and theo exchanged a glance, before you nodded. “thank you hermione, you’ve been of great help” 

“of course” hermione smiled and you and theo got up to leave, but she held you back. “be careful with him” she send a pointed look against theo’s back. “someone who’s so close to people who practice the dark arts might not be far from practicing it himself. he could be dangerous, y/n” 

“i’ll be careful” you promised, intentionally ignoring everything else she said. “don’t mention it to harry”

“i won’t” hermione assured. “as long as you get out alive” 

you caught up with theo, before he had even noticed you were missing. hermione continued her research on the magically forged snowstorm as the both of you left the library and her behind. 

you found mattheo in the corridor to the slytherin corridor. he wasn’t alone, but heavily making out with a girl, which turned out to be millicent bulstrode. they didn’t noticed either theo or you as you approached. 

theo had to physically tear them apart, as repeatedly calling mattheo’s name didn’t work. 

“nott” mattheo groaned loudly, millicent still in his arms. she didn’t even acknowledge you.

mattheo furrowed his brows, as he noticed you behind theo. “potter” he exclaimed surprised. “came for a kiss, i suppose?” he kissed the air in front of him.

“hey!” millicent muttered, slapping a hand against mattheo’s chest, but making no move to leave. 

“we need to talk to you” theo said coldly, not impressed by mattheo’s attempt to flirt with you. 

“we?” mattheo laughed. “who’s we? you and potter dating now or what?”

“no” theo muttered between clenched teeth and even though you didn’t knew him well, you could tell that he was beginning to get angry. “we need to talk” he repeated. 

“well, you can talk to me later” mattheo smirked unimpressed. “i have other things to do” he took a look at millicent, before he returned his eyes to theo and you. “everyone has to wait their turn.”

“you disgust me, mattheo” theo spit, before he took your arm to lead you out of the dungeon. “come on, we’ll come back later”

you nodded, quickly tearing your eyes away from millicent and mattheo, who had already begun kissing again. “is he always like that?” you asked and theo sighed, before he nodded. 

“usually he is a bit more likeable” 

“i hardly believe that” you laughed and theo smiled at you. “but maybe we can use the spare time to look for more clues in professor burbages office”

“you think that is a good idea?” theo quirked a brow, clearly challenging you. 

“well, you thought investigating a murder was a good idea, so i won’t take any judgement from you” 

theo laughed and you thought it was the most beautiful sound in the world. you found it almost unbelievable how close the two of you had grown over the span of hours. theo had been practically a stranger all those years you had spent in the same school, but now he felt like he was the closest friend you had. trauma was a really bonding experience it seemed. 

professor burbages office was right behind her classroom. a small staircase led up to the door, that held all the clues you were searching for. 

“it’s locked” theo concluded when he tried opening the door. 

“did you bring your wand?” you asked, but theo shook his head and you had to do the same, after he returned the question. 

“well” you smiled, kneeling down in front of the keyhole. “then we need to do it the muggle way” you grabbed one of the bobbypins out of your hair and pushed it open, leaving a long and thing metal stem. you picked the lock expertly and the door sprung open in a matter of seconds. 

“where did you learn this?” theo asked surprised by the unusual skill. 

“my aunt loved to look the kitchen when harry and i were children” you shrugged. “sometimes we were so hungry, there was no other way”

theo nodded and you missed the look of compassion on his face, when you walked into the office before him.  

once in the office, you split up, each of you searching a different half of the room. 

you sorted through a stack of paper in the cabinet that stood at the back of the room, when you heard theo sigh loudly. 

“this is just a bunch of school stuff” he muttered. “i had hoped for something clearer”

“like what?” you laughed. 

“i don’t know” he shrugged, as he opened another drawer. “maybe a death threat?”

“i think the killer might be a bit smarter than that” you exclaimed, right as your eyes fell on an opened bottle on the dresser next to you. you raised your brows, before you took the bottle into your hand.  

to burbage— for when the pressure gets too much. consider this a parting gift.

you frowned, rereading the cryptic message. "parting gift?" you glanced at the wine again, and suspicion clawed at your thoughts.

suddenly, a sickening realization dawned on you. the note wasn't a friendly gesture—it was ominous, almost mocking. as you examined the bottle closer, a faint but unmistakable scent lingered in the air—bitter almonds.

poison.

“theo,” you called, your voice tight as you held up the bottle. “come look at this—”

but before you could finish, a loud noise echoed from outside the office. both of you froze. heavy footsteps approached. they weren’t casual, nor hesitant. they were deliberate.

theo shot you a sharp look, his hand instinctively moving toward professor burbage’s wand that was still laying on top of her desk. you quickly placed the bottle back on the dresser, your heart pounding in your chest.

the footsteps grew louder, closer. someone was coming. someone who might have known exactly what you were about to find.

theo moved to the door, his face tense as he mouthed. “what now?”

before you could answer, the handle to the office door rattled.

taglist: @melsunshine @shereadsandcries @ch3rry-lips @the-sylver-dragon @mayamonroem @allurearia @prongsprincessworld @brokenpoetliz @winterbarnesblog @mysummerwinesblog @cowboy-luvr @ahead-fullofdreams @mietlynn @maxsisly @too-efn-old-to-be-here @reverse-soe @insideoutjulie @thestrawberrythatgotaway @dvartesgfs @chimchoom @eggsysstuff @uku-lelevillain @lexi2005

(let me know if you want to be added/removed)

The Stupid Closet (19)

Happy Sunday release day everyone! This is personally one of my favorite chapters, the drama and spiciness is top notch ;)

enjoy!

-----------

The next week of classes was super busy, stressing you out quite a lot. You hadn’t been able to spend much time with Mattheo, or anyone for that matter.

You and Draco had spent time together but it had been studying. You had midterms coming up next week and both of you were gunning for top of the class along with Hermione. Thankfully, you had a chance to relax this weekend and enjoy the Halloween party. You showered, shaving every part of your body in the process before getting ready, taking up a big chunk of time.

Hogwarts didn’t do a costume party, but slytherin always threw the best rager after the Halloween feast in the great hall. Everybody who was anybody knew about it and it was the best kept secret from the professors, even the ghosts were in on it.

You pulled on a black long sleeve bodycon dress that had a low scoop neckline before putting on strappy, open-toed black high heels.

Your naturally wavy hair was almost dry, leaving it silky and full. 

You apply mascara and a smokey eyeshadow look before grabbing dark red lipstick. You lean over the counter to apply it before hearing a voice.

“Wow, what a view.” You turn around to see Mattheo standing in the door frame with his hands in his pants pockets, a smirk plastered on his face.

You looked him up and down as he did the same with you. He was wearing black dress slacks and a white button down, the top few buttons undone. His hair was perfectly curled, as always.

“Holy shit” you mutter quietly.

“Are you sure you want to go to this thing? We could just stay here and I can get you out of that dress a lot sooner.” He walks forward and wraps his arms around you, landing his hands on your ass.

“Not so fast Mr. Riddle. Even though it’s tempting, I love going to this party.” You coo.

Halloween was your favorite holiday and you hadn’t missed a single one of these parties. You definitely weren’t going to miss your last one.

“God you’re so beautiful.” He replies, staring at your lips, clearly hungry for you.

“You don’t mind me wearing this?” You ask, looking down at your dress and back up.

The shape of the dress revealed all of your curves and the hem was quite short both on the chest and the legs, Theo would’ve minded.

“Nah I can fight. Nobody is going to touch my girl except me.” Mattheo responds, smirking.

“Hmm…” you trail off for a second, “I’m gonna make you work for it tonight.”

“Oh really?” He raises his eyebrows, “we’re playing that game tonight?”

“Yup.” And you back away from him, heading to the door, “and if you win…you can do anything you want” you emphasize.

“Anything?” He asks, starting to follow you.

“Anything.” You blow a kiss as you walk out the door, “see you at the party.”

You walk down to the party and head for the drink table, pouring yourself some vodka as Mattheo comes up and makes his own just a foot over.

He watches you, which you are very aware of as you slowly take a sip.

Draco walks up to you and starts to pour his own drink, “what’s happening here?”

You turn to him, “just a little fun. Wanna play along?”

“Will I end up in a ditch that Mattheo put me in?” Draco asks.

“Possibly but it’ll be so fun.” You reply, smirking, obviously being mischievous.

“Alright, come on.” Draco grabs your cup and puts both of them down on the table before leading you over to a group of slytherin boys.

You knew almost all of them, Blaise present in this group as well, but that wasn’t the point. The point was to make Mattheo jealous and really earn it.

You engage in their conversation, Mattheo watching from across the room. He stood alone, his head bending downwards as he sips from his cup randomly. 

“Is it working?” Draco asks subtly, you look over and see Mattheo staring a hole through you, watching your every move. 

“Yes. Follow me?” You say before the two of you walk back over to the drink table.

You take a shot before slowly wiping around your lip, watching Mattheo in your peripheral vision.

You could tell he wasn’t going to last much longer, he was ready to pounce.

A ravenclaw guy, who you didn’t know, came up beside you, “hey how’re you doing sexy?”

“Oh god.” Draco speaks up from across the table, about to laugh.

“Yeah you might not want to do that…go away” You respond simply. The ravenclaw looks shocked but walks away without another word.

“That was quite the entertainment.” Draco chuckles. You continue to make your drink until you go to look up at Draco but instead see something happening across the room.

Melanie. Melanie Zorra, the girl that Mattheo slept with while trying to stay away from you. She was all over him.

Despite his best efforts to push her away and send a message, she wouldn’t stop touching him. Throwing herself on him, it was honestly embarrassing. You watch them intently, not looking away.

Draco notices your gaze and follows it over to them, “oh shit.”

“What is she doing here?” You ask flatly.

“I don’t know who invited her…” Draco adds, knowing exactly how you were feeling.

You were about to walk over there before he whispers something in her ear. After he backs away, she walks away without another word.

“Ok, screw it.” You say picking up your drink and going over to Mattheo.

“What was that about?” You ask.

“Oh, are we jealous? Does that mean I win?” He smirks.

“Mattheo.” You say seriously, not acknowledging the competition you had going on.

“I told her to beat it. I said that she was a fling and I didn’t want her nor do I care about her.” Mattheo explains quietly.

“I didn’t like her touching you.” You say flatly.

“Baby, come on. She is not a threat, you know that.”

“I know.” You look up at him, staring into his eyes, “I saw you staring at me earlier.”

“Around those guys? Please, I have nothing to worry about.” Mattheo says.

“Exactly.” 

“Are you ready to leave now? I think we’ve had enough.”

“Maybe you have but I haven’t” you lie. You lean into his ear and whisper, “jealous sex is the best sex after all.”

You back away smirking before heading towards Pansy and her group. You hadn’t been interested in the gossip before now but maybe it would drive Mattheo crazy that you were passing on him for this.

“Daphne, I think Blaise likes you! He always gets so flustered around you I swear.” 

“And that isn’t Blaise. He never gets flustered.” You speak up.

“Oh look who’s joining us.” A gryffindor says, as none other than Melanie walks up and sits down across from you. “Mel, I saw you with Mattheo earlier, are you back together?”

You listen quietly, trying not to get involved. You wanted to win the jealousy game.

“Oh well I wouldn’t say that but…he totally has feelings for me.” Melanie claims.

“Really? I knew he looked happier lately!”  the gryffindor responds. Pansy glances over to you, clearly waiting for your response to the lie.

“He was just telling me that he wanted to have sex right here, right in front of everyone.” Melanie adds.

You chuckle, “he has more tact than that bimbo.”

“What?” She asks, noticing you.

“You heard me.” You say, setting your drink down on the table, “Mattheo wouldn’t want to have sex in the middle of a party, let alone with you. He’s more private than that. If you knew him at all, you wouldn’t have told that lie because anyone who does know him, knows it’s not true.”

“Do you have a problem with me?” Melanie asks.

“Actually I do.” You respond, sitting up straighter.

“I’ll catch up with you guys later. I don’t need to hear this.” Melanie says before standing up and walking away.

You follow her, “Hey I wasn’t done with you.”

She stops in the middle of the party and turns around to face you, “did you know that I was the one who was there when he couldn’t stop crying over you? I was the one who he took to bed at night while you were with his “best friend”. Remember that? He will never forget that and when it hits him, he’ll be back to me.”

“Alright that’s it.” You walk up and right hook her, punching her on the nose.

Draco and Mattheo come up and hold you back, “say that again bitch!” You yell as they keep you away from her.

She holds her nose, it bleeding profusely down her face. A couple gryffindors come over and help her up.

“You’re crazy!” She says as she starts crying.

“You’re so fucking lucky.” You say, backing away, twisting yourself out of Mattheo and Draco’s grasp. 

You were livid as you stood there, taking deep breaths, trying to regain your composure.

taglist: @helendeath @mayamonroem @princessluvssleep @hatakemrs @feistyfox47 @malydiavsss @schaebickel @swamp-box @iamdnb

Hidden strengths

Feeling hurt after being called weak, you make it your mission to prove them wrong only to get hurt in the process. Mattheo luckily knows just how to comfort you and squash the insecurity once and for all. Find the request here! @slytherinslut0 hope you enjoy it pookie! <3 Again seem to kind be incapable of writing something short for requests, enjoy a little angst but mostly fluff in 1.8k. There is a few instances of y/n.

“Please, Y/n has the strength of an ant she’d lose in a fight against a bow truckle.” A chorus of hysterical laughs fill the corner occupied by a bunch of Slytherin males. “My moneys on the twig!” Someone else pipes up, adding their two cents, earning another round of snickers, the sound stinging your heart. 

Weak. Fragile. Frail. The hurtful jabs aimed at your lack of strength, impairs deeply, wrecking your heart like a broken ship. Your absence of physical strength had always bothered you, a scared insecurity that was rooted deep in the family. Both your mother and hers were women of weaker stature, not one for sports lacking the coordination and stamina to keep interest in one. 

The comments had irritated you more than you were proud of, spreading through your mind like a disease for the rest of the day. They festered, growing like a tumor, reaching a point where you felt aggressively determined to prove you were strong, to them or at least yourself. You gathered a list of activities you could take part in to show your strength, which became easily discarded when the most brilliant idea sparked you. 

Who's tougher than a beater? The violent position on the Quidditch team whose job was to defend players from the nasty, powerful and wildly reckless bludgers. Using strength to direct with a blast of force towards the opposition, and there was only one person you wanted to approach. 

Mattheo was easy to spot, his broad shoulders slouched slightly in his meander down the hall, hands shoved in his pockets, his face resonating deep in thought. Making a beeline to catch up to him, your walk turns into a brisk run with determined energy, and you move around in front of him, alerting him of your presence. His eyes flicker up at the sudden obstacle in his path, his eyes lighting up at your company. 

“Mattheo, I need you to teach me to hit a bludger.” The words spit out straight to the point, before he can even greet you, your eyes flickering eagerly watching for his reaction. 

His casual expression contorts with a wrinkle of his brows and he takes in your request, adjusting the way his bag sits on his shoulder. “Ah what?”

“I said I need-”

“I heard what you said.” He raises a hand, interjecting the repetition while he looks you over, expecting to be revealed that you’re pulling his leg. But all he’s met with is an adorable but driven look that has his brows arching in curiosity and intrigue. “What..like right now?” 

You nod. 

He huffs out a quiet laugh and runs a hand through his hair in thought. “Alright, come on then.”

He doesn’t bother asking you why the sudden interest in the violent sport, observing how your usual carefree manner is replaced by a look of utter determination. He makes small talk, an edge of excitement slipping out, happy to just be spending time with you and discussing the intricacies of being a beater. He explains how a bludger works, saving time so the two of you can jump straight into the goal at hand. 

“Clearly you need a level of strength to strike a bludger with coordination, hence why I'm a clear candidate.” He jokes flexing a muscle, enjoying how your focus gets distracted and lingers on his biceps, constricting against his shirt. “But it also takes fast reflexes, a keen eye, and you need a good sense of balance.” His eyes flicker down to you, making sure you’re back to paying attention to the importance of his words. He gives a smile when you nod in understanding. 

Once on the pitch, he discards his bag and grabs the case, withholding the Quidditch balls carrying it with ease a few meters into the middle of the field. He crouches, lifting the box up, grabbing out two bats, handing you one while placing his one on the ground. The reality of what is about to happen tickles his conscience and a moment of doubt flickers, he doesn’t want you to get hurt.

“Are you sure about this?” He asks his voice held with concern questioning, still crouched down in front of the box.

You nod firmly, needing him to get on with it and release the bludger already before you chicken out. “Yeah, do it.”

He finds your determined tone adorable and a hint of pride flushes in him as he nods, flicking the latch and releasing it from its case. He stands moving back quickly as the sound of a low pitched buzzing whirls by him; the bludger flying out of its hold and up into the air. He grasps a bat and pushes gently on your arm to keep you at a safe distance while he prepares to explain the technique.

“Right, so it’s coming back now. Make sure you grip the bat firmly and prepare to swing at the last second.” His voice drops off as the bludger locks targeting on you and Mattheo, and he propels his arm forward with a force that echoes a loud whack across the field at first contact.   

He grins, watching how the bludger accelerators away, loving the adrenaline the violent sport brings him. “Alright alright, it’s coming back. You think you’re ready?” He’s speaking quickly but clearly, needing confirmation you're prepared as well as himself to remain focused in case he has to jump in.

Watching how easily Mattheo could bat the bludger away has you gripping the bat harder in anxiety, questioning your ability in yourself, realizing you may be a way in over your head. But you’re still determined, driven by the need to prove yourself. Nodding you replicate the positioning Mattheo had shown, sweaty hands grip the bat and your eyes stay trained on the rapid blasting bludger that's now redirected back towards the ground.

With a desired concentration, you swing with two hands and all your might at the whizzing bludger; the bat connecting, smashing it high away from the two of you. Mattheo’s yell of excitement regains your focus, “Atta girl!!” 

The look of pure pride illuminates his face with a shit-eating grin that sends a flurry of vibrating flutters to your chest. The satisfaction that ruptures through you makes you drop the bat in overjoyed enthusiasm, becoming giddy that you had done it. 

He watches the pure delight overtaking your body and distracts him from the shooting bludger boomeranging back. The powerful iron ball whirls at light speed and crashes, colliding hard against your arm. There's a loud snap and you wail upon impact. Mattheo’s eyes widen at your cry of pain and he seizes his wand quickly. “Immobulus!” 

The bludger falls to the ground with a thud and he moves towards you, panicked, “Shit. Shit, shit c’mere.” He’s cursing himself with guilt for being distracted by your cute reaction, now crouching down beside you, assessing your limp arm. “Fuck, that’s definitely broken. Come on, we gotta get you to the infirmary.” Your earlier triumph is washed away with the continued tears that spill, Mattheo’s arm around your waist hurriedly helping walk you to the medical wing. 

After the small fussing from Poppy skeptically scrutinising Mattheo as he defensively explains it was a bludger that injured you and not himself. She relaxes, muttering a small note of approval that he brought you straight here, wisely aware that he deals with his own injuries alone. 

Skillfully, she casts Brackium Emendo, a healing incantation that, if done incorrectly, can cause the backfiring of removing bones. She instructs you to wait the mandatory twenty minutes before you can be dismissed. Mattheo’s frantic, guilt-ridden apologies fill time up till you’re able to shut him up with forgiveness, and the space falls quiet between you two. 

“So, you gonna tell me what this is really about, then?” Mattheo speaks again, addressing the elephant, sensing your sudden shame and defeat. He’s feeling grateful that you’re all fixed up and you’ve stopped crying, though his heart aches in guilt for his getting you hurt.

Sighing with embarrassment, your head drops mumbling, “I wanted to be strong for a day.” The insecurity stays planted despite having actually achieved your goal. Though you no longer felt proud, it had taken all your might and in the end you had still got hurt and cried, and it had made you feel weaker.

Mattheo barely catches your words and pulls in a face of confusion. “Strong?” It's clear he doesn’t understand your predicament. You may not have been physically the strongest person he knew, but you were strong to him in many other ways. “What's going on? Y/n.” He reaches out to comfort you, angling your chin up to meet his eye. 

“I’m sick of being weak. I overheard people making jokes about how fragile I am.” Your voice is strained trying to keep your tears back as you admit the truth to Mattheo. His brown eyes display a hue of warmth that encourages you. 

His expression turns sour at your words. “Who the fuck said that?” His grip on your chin tightens. “Cuz it's bullshit y/n. You’re immensely strong.” 

You pull your face away from his grip, not believing him. “You’re lying.” 

He moves his body around the bed, positioning his face so you can’t ignore him, speaking with a softer tone. “Hey hey, I'm not. Not all strength is physical. Have you seen your brain, the shit you come up with for assignments? You’re determined as hell. Look at you today! You handle that with resilience, took on the challenge, and you succeeded”

He reaches out and grabs your hand this time, startling you by the confident comfort. He can feel his heart racing as he keeps talking. “I was so proud, you smashed that bludger.” He watches a smile creep on your face and he mirrors it. “And I know right at your heart, it's as strong as a deeply rooted tree. Even if you get knocked down, you’ll always regrow and build yourself up even stronger.” He squeezes your hand. “It's one of the reasons I like you.”

Your head snaps up, comprehending his admission. “You like me?” 

Mattheo stands up and makes himself comfortable on the bed beside you, “course I do, and your lack of physical strength has never bothered me. I like all the qualities you already have.” 

Your heart swells, the insecurity shrinking smaller to the size of a speck under the weight of Mattheo’s comfort and care. With quick thinking you launch forwards, squeezing him into a tight hug enthralling a hearty chuckle from himself. He reciprocates, throwing his arm over your shoulder and snuggling you tightly into his side, “does- uh this mean you like me too?” There's a hint of nervousness in his tone, a creeping fear you don't feel the same. 

A shit-eating grin of your own appears, lighting up your face as you nod. “Yeah yeah I do.” Snuggling into his side at the reality of what's occurred, and how a simple mistake has led to something wonderful. 

“Oh thank fuck..” He lets out a sigh of relief, his hand caressing your arm in gentle motions. “I'm so glad, and I don't want you getting hurt again...So maybe just stay in the quidditch stands from now on though, yeah.” 

Pizza's Deliveries | Pizza's 1k | General Masterlist

𝐴𝐹𝑇𝐸𝑅 𝑇𝐻𝐸 𝑆𝑇𝑂𝑅𝑀.ೃ࿐

↳ bf!mattheo riddle x fem reader (slight angst ? fluff) requested by @ilovematteoxx ♡

↳ 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑑 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑡 : 1.2k

𝑠𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦 : you can’t find your boyfriend after an argument, but the castle is on lockdown and surrounded by dementors

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

the argument had started over something small. ridiculously small, actually. you couldn’t even remember the details anymore, but somehow, the two of you had managed to let it escalate and before you knew it, mattheo and you were throwing sharp words like hexes.

your boyfriend, as loving as he was, had a way of getting under your skin sometimes. he was all about teasing smirks and cocky grins that usually made you laugh, but tonight you weren’t laughing. tonight, you were tired and on edge from a long week of classes and when he joked about you taking things too seriously, something inside of you snapped.

“not everyone has the luxury of not giving a damn, mattheo.” you’d answered with your arms crossed. “not everyone has parents who don’t care.”

the moment the words left your lips, you swore you could’ve felt the air shift. it was like time froze, everything suddenly stood still and went way too quiet. mattheo’s expression shifted, the usual soft gaze he saved for you disappearing. you saw how the hurt flickered in his dark eyes, before he quickly covered it with cold indifference.

“forget it,” he said sharply before walking out, turning his heel and disappearing out of the common room before you could even get a word out.

you stood there, frozen, the weight of your words slowly sinking in. merlin, you hadn’t meant it like that. in fact, you hadn’t meant to hurt him at all. but you had and now he was gone, and you didn’t even know where.

you couldn’t focus on anything for the rest of the evening and as wandered around the castle - silently hoping you’d bump into him around the corner - the hallways felt emptier than ever. dinner passed in a blur too. every time someone entered the great hall and sat down at the slytherin table, you quickly looked up, only to realise it wasn’t him.

you spent the rest of the night alone in your dorm, laying in bed and staring at the ceiling, trying and failing to get any sleep. your last conversation kept replaying in your head, what if you’d really hurt him this time ? what if he didn’t come back ? sure, mattheo had his walls, but he never stayed mad at you for long… your mind spiralled. outside the window, everything was dark and still. inside your heart, everything was twisted in knots.

and then, just as you were finally drifting off, a loud noise jolted you awake. it wasn’t just you either, you heard frantic footsteps outside your dorm, and voices raising as well. you sat up, heart pounding and confused. it wasn’t long before a frantic knock echoed through the door, and your best friend pansy came in.

“you have to get up, everyone is being taken to the great hall. now !” she said quickly. “what’s happening ?” you asked in a panicky tone as you got out of bed. “dementors,” she muttered, pulling you outside and rushing you to join the many students making their way through the dark halls. “they’ve been spotted outside.”

your heart skipped a beat. dementors.

the crowd of students rushed to the great hall, tension filling the air, already thick with worry and whispers. you scanned the faces around, searching for any signs of mattheo. but he wasn’t there. he wasn’t anywhere.

“pansy,” you breathed, tugging on her sleeve as realisation dawned on you. “i don’t see mattheo. where is he ?”

she shrugged, concern flickering in her eyes “don’t know, i haven’t seen him since this afternoon”

you swallowed hard, your chest tightening. where was he ? the last time you saw him was when he’d left after the argument, angry and hurt. what if he was outside when the dementors had left ? what if… what if the last thing you said to him was the stupid comment about his father ?

your breathing picked up and theo noticed it from across the room, before making his way over. “what’s going on ?” he asked with furrowed brows.

“i can’t find mattheo,” you whispered with a trembling voice. “we had a fight earlier and now he’s probably out there, and-“

theo exchanged a knowing look with pansy before cutting you off by gently pulling you into a reassuring side hug “he’s fine, amore. probably just running late, you know him, always slipping off to do merlin knows what.”

but you weren’t reassured. not when the castle was in lockdown. it when dementors were around. not when mattheo was nowhere to be seen, and the last thing he heard from you was something you didn’t mean.

“i didn’t mean it,” you whispered with regret. pansy rubbed your back to comfort you but it didn’t stop the tears from welling up in your eyes as you reached the great hall. the place was crowded with panicked students and teachers, but you still felt terribly alone in your world of fear.

“i shouldn’t have said it,” you choked out, wiping your eyes and ignoring the people running around and bumping into you. “i shouldn’t have-“

before you could finish, a heavy sound echoed through the hall. the giant wooden doors swung open with a gust of cold air, and every head turned toward the entrance.

mattheo stood in the doorway, along with some others students you didn’t even glance at. his curly hair was damp with the rain, and his robes slightly disheveled. he looked like he’d been through a storm, but he was there.

without thinking, you ran. you pushed through the crowd, not caring who you bumped into, your heart racing as you closed the distance between you. by the time you reached him, a tear had managed to roll down your cheek, but you didn’t care. you threw yourself into his arms, your hands fisting his robes as you breathed him in.

“mattheo,” you gasped, holding onto him like he might disappear. “i’m so sorry. i didn’t mean it, i swear i didn’t mean it.”

his arms came around you immediately, pulling you close, his chin resting on top of your head. “hey, hey, it’s okay,” he murmured, his voice low and soothing. “it’s okay, love. i’m not mad.”

you pulled back just enough to look up at him, your slightly red eyes searching his face. “you’re not?”

he shook his head, his hand coming up to cup your cheek. “no. i just… needed some time. but i’m not mad. i promise.”

you bit your lip, trying to stop the flood of emotions threatening to overwhelm you again. “i thought—i thought something happened to you. i was so scared.”

mattheo’s gaze softened, and he wiped the tears away with his thumb. “i’m sorry i scared you. i shouldn’t have just left like that.”

you shook your head quickly, you knew your boyfriend’s habit of walking out during arguments was just to help manage his anger. it was something he’d started doing when he realised you were the only good thing in his life, and he didn’t want to take his negative feelings out on you.

“no, it’s my fault. i shouldn’t have said what i did.” he leaned down, pressing his forehead against yours, his breath warm against your skin. “it’s okay,” he whispered. “i’m here. i’m not walking away this time.”

for the first time that night, you felt the tightness in your chest ease. the panic, the fear, it all melted away in his arms, replaced by the steady, grounding warmth of his presence. “nice pajamas by the way,” he chuckled, and you rolled your eyes.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

tag list (comment if you wanna be added) @tateshifts @redeemingvillains @helendeath @jolly4holly @larmesdevanille @dexoq @shiftingwithmars @shiftingwithleah @fbvreadingblog @moonlightreader649 @bellatrix-lestrange5 @sp7-mr @sunkissedscribbles @chelawrites @myunperfektstorys @iris-qt @yikesitslush @clar2aa @deadsnakey @deadghosy @slut-for-fictional-men @romantasyreader28 @witchsrecs @mattiesgf

a very short sneak peak of peonies part 4 <3

“Theo,” you murmur, pushing the bathroom door open, the soft creak of the hinges filling the quiet room. He’s sitting on the edge of your bed, exactly where you left him, his elbows resting on his knees as he stares at the photos on your wall. At the sound of your voice, he looks up, his eyes softening as they meet yours. “I need help with my dress.”

He doesn’t say a word, just stands, and you instinctively step back, letting him push the door open. The bathroom feels even smaller now, barely enough space for two, and the air grows thick as you turn to face the mirror. Theo moves in behind you, his presence warm and overwhelming. You hold your dress up, fingers trembling slightly against the fabric, your gaze fixed on the reflection of his eyes meeting yours. His hands hover near the zipper, and though your breath hitches softly, you know he’s heard it—the way his eyes flicker with the same tension that tightens in your chest.

You feel the gentle tug of the zipper, but his eyes never leave yours. Those dark, watercolor eyes that always seem to unravel you, leaving you feeling unsteady, weak in a way that only he seems to be able to. It would be so easy to just turn your head, to look at him fully, to close the small space between you. But the thought alone sends a wave of nerves through you, a flutter of tension that makes your heart race. You stay facing the mirror, knowing that meeting his gaze head-on might be too much, too revealing.

With each slow tug of the zipper, more of your skin is exposed, and the air between you grows heavier, thick with a kind of tension you’ve never felt before—one that prickles along your spine and makes your pulse quicken. “There,” he murmurs, his voice deep and smooth, like honey, sending a shiver through you. You suck in a breath, the sound of his voice far too close, too intimate. “Do you need help with anything else?” His words linger in the air, and the question feels heavier than it should, making your heart race even faster.

the man on the moon—

╔═══*.·:·.☽✧ description ✧☾.·:·.*═══╗

death eater!regulus black x fem!reader

regulus is bound to a fate predestined for him by his family and their notion of profound duty bestowed upon the noble house of black. he cannot escape it now. he wishes nothing but for you to be kept safe, innocent and joyous—and to achieve this he must keep a dark secret. a secret that will lay claim to his life, and a secret that will prove to be a tiresome burden.

A chapters are small flashback chapters. B chapters are the main, plot driving chapters.

╔═══*.·:·.☽✧ chapters ✧☾.·:·.*═══╗

༉‧₊˚. chapter 1A — solace | 1B — emergence

༉‧₊˚. chapter 2A — hope | 2B

༉‧₊˚. chapter 3A | 3B

༉‧₊˚. chapter 4A | 4B

༉‧₊˚. chapter 5A | 5B

༉‧₊˚. chapter 6A | 6B

༉‧₊˚. chapter 7A | 7B

╔═══*.·:·.☽✧ extras ✧☾.·:·.*═══╗

: ̗̀➛ series playlist

: ̗̀➛ series moodboard

╔═══*.·:·.☽✧ taglist ✧☾.·:·.*═══╗

🏷 @homesweetnothings @ghostlycurses @spidermansfangirl @maverickgalathynius

… send an ask or comment on this post to be added !

White Lie

PART FIVE

pairing - lorenzo berkshire x fem!reader

summary - After accidentally telling your mom you have a new boyfriend, you have to resort to your last option and ask your old friend turned enemy for help.

warnings - fake dating trope

wordcount - 3.1k

series masterlist

The chaos of Halloween weekend was already in full swing when your phone buzzed with an unexpected text from Enzo. You were sitting in your dorm room, lazily scrolling through social media when the screen lit up with his message.

Enzo: My parents just showed up for my game. Staying the whole weekend. We need to keep up the act. You gotta put some of your stuff in my place to make it look real.

Your stomach dropped. His parents had unexpectedly come to town? For the entire weekend? That meant you had to pretend to be dating Enzo at university too, not just in front of family back home. And it was the worst timing—between classes, Halloween parties, and Enzo’s first big soccer game of the season, there was already enough on your plate. Now you had to dive into this charade all over again.

You: You're kidding, right? This weekend?!

Enzo: Trust me, I didn’t want this either. Just need you to make it look like you’ve been staying over at mine a lot. Blaise is there, I told him you’re coming.

With a groan, you tossed your phone onto the bed, wondering how the universe could be this cruel. You and Enzo had kept up the fake dating act so far, successfully fooling both your families—but faking it here, around your friends and classmates? That felt a lot more daunting.

But there was no way out of it now. His parents were here, and if you didn’t step up, they’d see right through the ruse. With a resigned sigh, you grabbed a bag and began stuffing in things that would sell the illusion: some clothes, your toothbrush, a few books, and a bottle of shampoo and conditioner.

As you zipped up the bag, your mind raced. This was going to be tricky. You and Enzo had been keeping your distance on campus, careful not to raise any eyebrows among your friends. No one knew about your fake relationship—hell, no one even suspected you two were close enough to be hanging out, let alone dating.

You grabbed your phone again to text Enzo.

You: How are we gonna pull this off? No one here knows about this, right?

Enzo: We’ll deal with it. Just get to my place and set up. I’m keeping them busy for now.

With a sigh, you slung your bag over your shoulder and made your way across campus to Enzo’s apartment. The streets were buzzing with pre-Halloween energy, students milling about in early costumes, the excitement in the air palpable. Under different circumstances, you'd be planning your own night out with friends, maybe a costume party or a haunted house run. But now? Now you were heading into full-on damage control.

When you reached Enzo’s building, his roommate Blaise opened the door almost immediately, as if he'd been waiting for you.

“Well, well, well,” he said with a grin, stepping aside to let you in. “The girlfriend has arrived.”

You rolled your eyes, walking past him into the living room. Maybe Enzo had told his friends after all, figures. "Don’t start. I’m just trying to make it through this weekend without Enzo’s parents figuring out we’re faking it."

Blaise chuckled, clearly entertained by the situation. “Honestly, I don’t know how you guys are pulling this off. But hey, I’m here to help. What do you need?”

You took a deep breath, glancing around the apartment. It was neat—too neat when you considered only two guys lived here. “I just need to scatter a few of my things around. Make it look like I’m here all the time.”

Blaise nodded, already moving to help. Together, you placed your toothbrush in the bathroom, set a pair of shoes by the door, and left some of your clothes in Enzo’s closet, tucked among his own. As you arranged a couple of your books on his coffee table, Blaise looked over at you, curiosity clear in his expression.

“So... how did you and Enzo even get into this mess?” he asked, tossing one of your sweaters over the back of the couch.

You hesitated for a moment, wondering how much to share. Blaise seemed chill, but he was still Enzo’s best friend—someone who might tease him about this later. “Long story short, our moms always thought we should date, and he was my best option to get out of my mom setting me up with someone else. It wasn’t supposed to be a big deal, just a little act for family gatherings.”

Blaise raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Yeah, but now you’re here. At uni. Pretending to be in love. This is next-level commitment, you know that, right?”

You sighed, slumping onto the couch. "Trust me, I didn’t sign up for this. I thought it would just be the holidays. But his parents just showed up."

“Well, lucky for you, I’m pretty good at keeping secrets,” Blaise said, settling into the armchair across from you. “And hey, if it makes you feel any better, from what he’s told me you’re actually selling it pretty well.”

Before you could respond, the front door swung open, and in walked Enzo with his parents trailing behind him. You and Blaise exchanged a quick glance—this was it. Showtime.

Michelle, Enzo’s mom, spotted you immediately and smiled brightly. “Y/n! So good to see you again, dear.”

“Hi,” you said, standing to greet her, the fake girlfriend act snapping into place as easily as slipping on a mask. “What a surprise! I didn’t know you guys were coming.”

Michelle beamed as she stepped forward, pulling you into a warm hug. “Neither did Enzo, the poor thing. We just couldn’t miss his first big game of the season, you know?”

Enzo, standing by the door with his hands shoved into his pockets, shot you a look that said play along. You gave him a quick, tight-lipped smile before turning back to his mom.

“Well, I’m glad you’re here,” you said, forcing enthusiasm into your voice. “Enzo’s been working really hard this season.”

Frank, Enzo’s dad, joined in with a hearty chuckle. “Hard work pays off, right, son?”

Enzo nodded, stepping further into the room. “Yeah, Dad. Just hoping to put on a good show tomorrow.”

It wasn’t long before small talk filled the space. You and Blaise stayed on the sidelines for most of it, while Enzo’s parents showered him with attention, asking about soccer, his classes, and whether he was eating well enough. Michelle’s eyes wandered the room every now and then, landing on small details—your shoes by the door, the books on the coffee table. Every time her gaze flicked to something of yours, you felt a spike of nervousness.

Blaise must’ve noticed too because he leaned over and whispered, “You’re doing fine. Chill.”

You gave him a quick, appreciative nod, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that this weekend was going to be tough.

Eventually, talk turned to dinner, and Michelle insisted on taking all of you out to a nice restaurant to celebrate the start of the weekend. Dinner went smoother than you expected, though it was clear that Enzo’s parents were all-in on the idea of you two as a couple. Michelle kept referring to the two of you as “adorable” and even asked if you wanted to sit with them at the game the next day.

After dinner, you and Enzo walked Michelle and Frank back to their hotel. The crisp night air felt refreshing after the stuffy restaurant, and the Halloween decorations lining the streets added a festive touch to the evening. 

When you reached the hotel, Michelle pulled you into another warm hug. “Thank you so much for joining us tonight. It’s been lovely to have you with us.”

You smiled, trying to mask your exhaustion. “It was great to see you both. I’m really looking forward to tomorrow.”

As Michelle and Frank entered the hotel, Enzo turned to you, a hint of a grin on his face. “Well, that went better than I expected. Ready for the game tomorrow?”

You chuckled, shaking your head. “I don’t know if ‘ready’ is the right word. I’m just trying to survive this weekend.”

Enzo chuckled, giving your arm a reassuring squeeze. “I know what you mean. Let’s get you back to your dorm.”

The walk to your dorm was quieter, a comfortable silence settling between you two. The Halloween lights and decorations provided a whimsical backdrop as you navigated the campus paths. Enzo seemed lost in thought, his earlier tension easing into a more relaxed demeanor.

When you reached your dorm, Enzo stopped in front of the building, a thoughtful look on his face. “I’ll see you tomorrow. If you need anything, just text me.”

“Will do,” you said, trying to keep the mood light. 

Enzo gave you a genuine smile. “Goodnight.”

You watched him walk away before heading inside. As you climbed the stairs to your room, you couldn’t shake the feeling of the evening’s weight settling on you. But you had to push it aside; tomorrow was the big game, and you had to be ready.

ੈ♡˳

The next morning dawned chilly and bright, a perfect day for soccer. The campus was abuzz with Halloween festivities, but you were focused on the game. You put on your warmest jacket, grabbed a coffee from the campus café, and made your way to the stadium.

When you arrived, the stands were already filling up with enthusiastic fans. You spotted Michelle and Frank waving from their seats and gave them a quick wave back before making your way up to where they were sitting.

As the game began, you found yourself caught up in the excitement of the crowd and the intensity of the match. Enzo played with impressive skill and determination, his every move drawing cheers from the audience. You cheered along with the crowd, dutifully playing the supportive girlfriend, your earlier nerves melting away in the face of the game’s energy.

During a brief halftime break, you jumped down from the bleachers to meet Enzo as he ran up to the stands, a look of satisfaction on his face. “How’s it going?” he asked, joining you.

“Great! You’re playing really well,” you said, smiling at him. “Your parents are really excited.”

“Yeah, they are,” Enzo replied, glancing toward them. “You seemed pretty excited too. Sure you don’t wanna join the fanclub? You’ve been cheering louder than they have.”

“Don’t let it go to your head,” you said, nudging him playfully. “Just playing my part.”

The game resumed, and the energy in the stadium remained electric. Enzo's team played with renewed vigor, and as the final whistle blew, they celebrated a well-deserved victory. The roar of the crowd was deafening, and you joined in, clapping and cheering with genuine enthusiasm.

As the players began to make their way off the field, you spotted Michelle and Frank weaving through the crowd to meet Enzo. They were all smiles, clearly thrilled with the outcome. Enzo's eyes searched for you in the crowd, and when he saw you, he made his way over, his face alight with excitement.

"Great game!" you shouted as he approached. "Your parents are really proud."

Enzo grinned, his happiness palpable. "Thanks! They’re probably already making plans to celebrate."

Michelle and Frank soon joined you, and Michelle wasted no time in wrapping Enzo in a hug. "That was amazing, sweetheart! We’re so proud of you."

Frank clapped Enzo on the back. “Yeah, you really showed them what you’re made of. Now, how about a little more celebrating?”

Enzo looked at you, a playful glint in his eyes. Your stomach churned.

Michelle was quick to jump in. “We were thinking of heading to the Halloween fair in town. It’s got everything—rides, games, and a haunted house. Why don’t you both join us? It’ll be fun!”

You exchanged a glance with Enzo. “Sounds like a plan,” he said with a grin. “You up for it?”

You shrugged, trying to sound nonchalant. “Sure, why not?”

The fair was bustling with activity when you arrived. The air was filled with the smell of popcorn and cotton candy, and the sounds of carnival games and laughter created a lively backdrop. Michelle and Frank led the way, weaving through the crowd with excitement.

As the evening went on, you found yourself enjoying the fair’s festive atmosphere. You played a few games with Michelle, tried your hand at winning a prize, and even sampled some of the treats. Enzo stayed close, making sure to always keep his hand on the small of your back or an arm slung around your shoulders when his parents were nearby.

When the haunted house came into view, Michelle’s eyes lit up. “Let’s do it!” she said, dragging Frank along. “It’ll be a blast.”

Enzo looked at you, a mischievous smile on his face. “You sure you’re up for this? Haunted houses aren’t exactly your thing, right?”

You laughed nervously, lightly slapping his arm. “I cried one time like 10 years ago.”

The line to the haunted house was long, but it gave you time to mentally prepare. When it was finally your turn, you walked through the entrance, and the darkness enveloped you. The occasional screams and eerie sounds from inside only heightened the suspense.

As you ventured deeper into the haunted house, the scares became more intense. At one particularly terrifying moment, a loud bang and sudden movement made you jump, and you instinctively grabbed Enzo’s arm. He seemed to notice how frightened you were and leaned closer, his voice a comforting whisper amidst the chaos.

“Hey, don’t worry. It’s all just for fun,” he said, trying to sound reassuring. “I’m right here.”

You squeezed his arm tighter, trying to steady your breathing. “I know. It’s just—sorry.”

Enzo chuckled softly, his breath warm against your ear. “Well, if it makes you feel better, I’m pretty scared too. Just better at hiding it.”

You didn’t believe him, but you guessed it was nice that he tried. As you rounded a corner, another loud noise made you jump, and this time, you ended up pressed closely against Enzo. He seemed to notice how close you were and shifted slightly, but his arm remained around you.

“You know,” he said, his voice low and teasing, “your eyes are really pretty up close.”

You blinked, caught off guard by the compliment. In the dim, flickering light of the haunted house, his eyes looked warm and sincere. The moment was oddly intimate, and you found yourself looking up at him, your heart racing for reasons beyond the scare.

Before you could respond, another person in a scary mask popped out from the darkness with a scream, and you instinctively buried your face in his shoulder, letting out a small yelp. His arm tightened around you, and you could feel his laughter vibrating against your side.

“It’s okay,” he said, his voice steady. “We’re almost through.”

Eventually, you made it to the end of the haunted house, and the lights of the fair were a welcome sight. You pulled away from Enzo, feeling both relieved and slightly disoriented.

Michelle and Frank were waiting for you, and Michelle grinned. “How was that?”

You gave her a shaky smile. “It was something, that’s for sure.”

Enzo looked at you, a playful glint still in his eyes. “Maybe we should stick to the games? I was promised you’d win something for me.”

You laughed, nodding. “Yes, definitely.”

Chapter Six

Thanksgiving arrived with a crispness in the air that hinted at the winter ahead. The day was clear and bright, a perfect backdrop for the holiday festivities. The anticipation of spending Thanksgiving with both Enzo's and your families had you feeling unexpectedly buoyant. The families had always celebrated together, and this year was no different, except for the added layer of pretending to be a couple.

As you pulled into Enzo’s parents’ driveway, the familiar sight of the house, decorated with festive fall decorations and glowing lights, brought a sense of nostalgia. For some reason, it felt weird arriving without him by your side now. But he had decided to drive home a couple days early to help his parents with the preparations. The smell of roasting turkey and pumpkin pie wafted through the open windows as you walked up to the door.

Michelle opened it with a beaming smile, pulling you into a warm hug. “Y/n! So glad you could make it. We’ve missed you.”

You returned her embrace, feeling a genuine warmth. “I’m happy to be here. Everything looks wonderful.”

Michelle ushered you inside, where the cozy ambiance of the house, combined with the cheerful chatter of the combined families, immediately set a comforting tone. Enzo’s dad was busy in the kitchen, and as you entered, you were greeted by your own parents.

“There you are!” your mom exclaimed, crossing the room to hug you. “Late as always. I was starting to think you’re ditching us.”

“Hi, Mom,” you said, smiling warmly. 

After the initial greetings, you joined Enzo in helping with the last-minute preparations. As you worked side by side in the kitchen, he glanced over at you. “Feeling ready for the family fun?”

You laughed, shaking your head. “I think I’m as ready as I’ll ever be.”

The dinner table was a feast of traditional Thanksgiving dishes, and as everyone gathered around, the air was filled with laughter and the clinking of glasses. Both families seemed genuinely thrilled to be together, and even your sister seemed to be taking a break from being all up in your bussiness.

During dinner, Enzo made sure to keep you close, his hand occasionally brushing against yours under the table. The ease with which you interacted felt natural, almost too natural. 

After dinner, the group retired to the living room for dessert and games. You found yourself genuinely enjoying the evening, from the slices of pie to the friendly competition in charades. Enzo was as charming as ever, but you found yourself appreciating him in a new way—his laughter, his warmth, and the way he made everyone feel at ease.

As the night wore on, you and Enzo took a quiet moment on the porch. The crisp night air was refreshing, and the stars overhead seemed to twinkle with a particular brightness. You leaned against the railing, savoring the tranquility after the lively evening.

Series Taglist - @iamaslytherin0 @bath1lda @hereticdance @ohmaigwad @wordsarelife @pinkposttragedy @allshitsangiggles @hoeforvinniehackerrr @aheadfullofdreams @mildly-delulu @h3artz4soph @sunasbbie @marsbars09 @vcosette @meepycheep @aglady13 @rinalouu @floswife @ariensversion @agent-tempest @s0urw00lf @thebiggestnaturaldisaster @pinkestfloyd @xlinxdax0704 @kennedy-brooke @iamaconfusedpan @keira-kaz2y5 @chulabeans @l0v3do11 @acourtoflostandwanderingstars @catiwinky @istill-dream-ofyou @pinktreee @ceehance @lizhub @iamgayforyourmom1501 @feistyfox47 @i-think-you-are-gr8 @bigbobass @cas-planet @csmt_m @selyselyselyse @mrsriddles-blog @the-sylver-dragon @poppysrin @camille-1019 @laniirackssss @slvtfortheo @chaoticweirdloyalroyaltrouble @chosenoneslver @txzii @c0rnf1akessss @itsarajr

Masterlist

Requesting Guidelines

Tense

pairing - mattheo riddle x fem!reader

summary - just a little massage with a happy ending

warnings - soft!mattheo, smut, fingering, 18+ MINORS DNI

wordcount - 1k

As soon as you step into your dorm room, the weight of the day crashes down on you. Your body feels stiff, tense, and achingly tired, and all you want is to collapse into bed and forget about the world for a while. But even as you kick off your shoes and toss your bag onto the floor, you know the stress will still cling to you, burrowing deep into your muscles.

Just as you’re about to let out a long, frustrated sigh, the door creaks open behind you. You glance over your shoulder to find Mattheo leaning against the frame, his dark eyes scanning your exhausted posture with a knowing smirk.

“Tough day?” he asks, voice low and smooth, the familiar rasp sending a shiver down your spine.

You let out a humorless laugh, running a hand through your hair. “You could say that.”

He steps inside, closing the door behind him as he watches you with that sharp gaze of his. But there’s something softer beneath it today, something that shows he’s not just here to tease you. He walks up behind you and rests his hands gently on your shoulders, thumbs pressing into the knots of tension in your neck.

“You’re so tense,” he murmurs, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear. “Let me help.”

You tilt your head slightly, his touch already working its magic, but the exhaustion still weighs heavily on you. “How?” you ask, your voice quieter now, more vulnerable than you meant it to be.

He steps in closer, his breath warm on your skin as his fingers slide down your arms before they settle on your hips. “Lie down,” he says softly, guiding you towards the bed. “I’ll give you a massage.”

A flush creeps up your neck at his offer, but you’re too tired to resist, too drained to pretend you don’t want it. You nod wordlessly and let him lead you to the bed.

“You’ll need to take these off, though,” he adds, his voice taking on a playful edge as his hands toy with the hem of your shirt and pants.

You hesitate for just a moment before you peel off your clothes, leaving you in nothing but your underwear. You’ve been with Mattheo long enough to trust him, to know where this might lead, but even so, the thought of his hands on your bare skin sends a thrill of anticipation through you.

He gestures for you to lie down on your stomach, and you do as he asks, sinking into the softness of your bed. The cool air of the room brushes against your skin, sending a shiver down your spine, but it’s quickly replaced by the warmth of Mattheo’s hands as they begin to move across your back.

His touch is firm but gentle, his fingers pressing into the knots of tension with precision, easing the tightness in your muscles with every slow, deliberate stroke. You can’t help the soft sigh that escapes your lips as the stress begins to melt away, your body gradually relaxing under his expert hands.

“You’ve been overworking yourself again,” he says, his voice low as his hands move lower, kneading into the small of your back, just inches above the swell of your ass. “You need to take better care of yourself.”

You hum in response, too lost in the sensation of his touch to form words. His hands are magic, each movement drawing out a bit more tension, until all that’s left is a pleasant warmth spreading through your body.

Mattheo’s hands glide down to your hips, his thumbs pressing into the sensitive skin just above your underwear, and you feel a flicker of heat beneath the surface of your relaxation. His touch lingers there, teasing, as he leans down, his lips ghosting over your ear.

“Feeling better yet?” he murmurs, his voice dripping with suggestion.

Your breath hitches, and you nod, though you can sense the shift in the air between you.

Without waiting for a response, Mattheo’s fingers slip beneath the waistband of your underwear, tugging them down ever so slightly as his lips trail soft kisses along your shoulder, sending waves of heat coursing through you.

You can feel your heart racing now, your pulse quickening as his hands begin to explore your thighs, his touch more intimate, more insistent. He whispers your name, his voice thick with desire, and your legs open wider ever so slightly in response, silently telling him what you need, what you’ve been craving.

“Turn over,” he commands, his voice rougher now.

You do as he says, rolling onto your back, your eyes meeting his as he looks down at you with dark, hungry eyes. His hand slides over your thigh, fingers brushing up toward your center again, but this time he doesn’t hesitate.

It only takes one short motion, a flick of his thumb, for him to press into the hot flesh of your core. Your back arches sharply upwards at the contact, and he grins wickedly down at you, leaning forward to run his tongue against your throat.

“So responsive,” he breathes. “Does it feel good, sweet girl?”

Your breathing catches at the question, and then you nod eagerly. Mattheo's thumb rubs slow circles over your clit and just as you feel his teeth on the skin of your neck again, his finger teases itself inside you. You writhe beneath him, desperate for more.

“Yes,” you moan, the sound echoing around the silent dorm room. “Please, please, more…”

With a quiet chuckle, Mattheo's finger presses deeper, his thumb speeding up slightly, and you groan loudly, feeling the familiar pressure build up, your entire being thrumming with pleasure. A few moments later, your orgasm hits, and when your body falls limp in exhaustion you hear Mattheo's quiet chuckle as he pulls away.

He lies down beside you, his warm body pressing close to yours. He wraps an arm around your waist and brings your face close to his, his other hand reaching over you to pull the blanket over the both of you. Your lips brush together once before he kisses you, lingering a bit longer than usual.

“Still feeling tense?” he mumbles, a smile pulling at his lips.

“Not anymore,” you reply as he pushes your face towards his neck, his fingers dancing lazily across the small of your back.

Masterlist

Requesting Guidelines

KINKTOBER #2– THE HAUNTED MANOR / theodore nott

october 3rd MDNI

theodore nott x fem reader

summary: you have some… interesting experiences with theo when you and your friends decide to spend the night in an old haunted manor

warnings: SMUT, toys (use of dildo and vibrator), bondage, humiliation, voyeurism, masturbation, unprotected piv— this is the nastiest smut ive ever written, read at your own risk <3)

words: 5.1k (important: if you want to skip to the smut, scroll until you see the 🌶️ emoji)

a/n: sorry this was posted so late :(

navigation kinktober masterlist

The crisp October night wrapped itself around you like a cold embrace, the wind whispering through the overgrown vines that clung to the rusted iron gates before you. The abandoned manor loomed in the distance, a decaying relic of the past, its towering silhouette dominating the sprawling grounds.

"Are we seriously spending the night here?" Pansy's voice wavered between excitement and fear as she glanced at the foreboding mansion.

"Of course," Mattheo grinned, his usual cocky demeanor unfazed. "Nothing wrong with a little ghost hunting with friends."

Blaise snorted, smirking. "Yeah, unless we end up as ghosts ourselves."

"Relax, you nitwits. It's just an old house," Draco muttered, rolling his eyes as he pushed open the creaking iron gates.

You shivered, instinctively pulling your cloak tighter around your shoulders. "Theo, are you sure about this?" you asked softly, your gaze flickering to your boyfriend standing beside you. His sharp features were illuminated by the pale moonlight, his hair falling lazily over his eyes. He glanced at you, smirking as his hand slipped into yours, sending a wave of warmth through the chill.

"Don't tell me you're scared," he teased. "It's just an old house."

"You said it was haunted," you reminded him, trying and failing to keep the tremor out of your voice.

Theo's smirk widened. "Rumors. Superstitions. Nothing you need to worry about."

With a playful tug, he pulled you forward, leading you through the rusted gates that groaned ominously in the stillness. The gravel crunched beneath your feet as the two of you made your way toward the manor, its black silhouette growing more oppressive with every step. The air felt heavy—almost alive—with the weight of forgotten magic, or perhaps something far more sinister.

When you reached the massive oak doors, Theo paused, glancing at you over his shoulder with that same teasing grin. "Still want to go inside?"

Your heart hammered in your chest, the oppressive energy of the place thickening the air, but you wouldn't let him see your hesitation. You swallowed hard and nodded, determined not to back down now. Not in front of him.

"Good girl," he murmured, his voice laced with approval.

With a forceful push, the doors groaned open, revealing the dark, decaying entrance hall. The air inside was colder than outside, thick with dust and the scent of mildew. Torn tapestries lined the walls, forgotten remnants of a grandeur long faded.

You groaned, glancing around in disbelief. "Remind me again why I agreed to this?" you muttered, frustration mingling with your mounting anxiety.

Theo led you deeper into the manor, his steps confident as if he'd been here a thousand times. The others followed behind, their footsteps echoing through the grand, dilapidated space. Cobwebs hung from every corner like old lace, and the weight of the silence was almost suffocating. Theo turned to you, extending his hand once more.

"So," he said with a grin, "what do you think? Spooky enough for you? Let me know if you need someone to hold your hand."

You shot him a glare, though the knot in your stomach betrayed your bravado. Your fingers brushed lightly against his. "Shut up. I told you, I'm not scared," you grumbled, though the darkened hallways told a different story.

Your heart thudded in your chest, the mix of fear and his teasing making your pulse quicken. “But I won't lie, there is something about being here that makes my skin crawl," you admitted, barely above a whisper, as you unconsciously inched toward him.

His arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you slightly closer. "I thought you weren't scared," he teased again, though his voice was softer now, almost amused. "Maybe you need a big, strong man to keep you safe after all."

Rolling your eyes, you elbowed him lightly. "I said shut up."

His lips curled into a gleeful smile, clearly enjoying your unease. "Lucky for you, love, I'm here to save the day." With your hand firmly in his, he led you further into the manor, the old floorboards creaking beneath your every step.

The shadows deepened as you ventured further inside, their long, jagged shapes seeming to reach for you. Theo's grip tightened on your hand, offering silent reassurance as the cold stone walls closed in. "We should stick together anyway," he mused, his tone lighter now. "Safety in numbers, right?"

Eventually, the two of you found yourselves in a grand sitting room, the large windows covered with tattered, moth-eaten curtains. Faded portraits lined the walls, their painted eyes tracking your every movement with unnerving accuracy. A cold, dead fireplace loomed at the far end, its once-mighty hearth now filled with lifeless ashes.

"Cozy," Theo smirked, wandering over to a dusty bookshelf. He trailed a finger along the spines of the old books, eyeing them curiously. "I bet there's some fascinating reading material in here."

You snorted, rolling your eyes as you playfully nudged him. "Only you would think about books in a place like this, nerd."

Before he could reply, a loud thump echoed from upstairs, causing both of you to jump. Theo's eyes widened momentarily before he composed himself with a chuckle.

"Probably just the others... or maybe the ghosts," he joked, his hand resting protectively on the small of your back.

With a shared look, the two of you headed back to the foyer, where your friends were gathered, lounging on worn furniture and discussing their next move.

"Well, well, looks like our little explorers found nothing but dust and cobwebs," Lorenzo called from his spot on an aged velvet sofa, a grin plastered on his face. "I say that’s enough sightseeing for now. We’ve got a whole night ahead of us. How about we liven things up with a game of Truth or Dare?"

Theo rolled his eyes. "Truth or Dare? Seriously, Enzo? What are you, fourteen?"

Mattheo chuckled, shrugging. "What else are we gonna do in a place like this?"

"Fine, fine," Theo said, throwing up his hands. "But I’m only playing if there’s alcohol involved." He turned to you with a wicked grin. "Since my lovely girlfriend is feeling so bold tonight, why don't you start us off? Truth or dare?"

You met his gaze, unwilling to back down from the challenge. "Dare," you replied, lifting your chin defiantly. "I'm not afraid of a little challenge.”

A slow grin spread across Theo's face. "Alright, I dare you..." He paused dramatically, letting the tension build. " ...to kiss me. Right here, in front of everyone.”

The collective groan from your friends was almost comical. "That's hardly a dare," you scoffed. "I mean, you are my boyfriend."

"Maybe I just wanted an excuse to kiss you," Theo shot back with a cheeky grin.

You rolled your eyes, but your annoyance couldn't hide the small smile tugging at your lips. "You're such a show-off.”

Without further hesitation, you stepped forward and kissed him deeply, your fingers threading through his hair as your lips moved together. You blocked out the catcalls and whistles from your friends, focused only on the warmth of Theo's body pressed against yours. His hands roamed your back, pulling you closer, and for a moment, the eerie manor and all its dangers faded away.

As you broke apart, breathless, Theo smirked, his forehead resting against yours. "Much better than I expected," he murmured, his tone filled with playful pride.

You blushed, looking away. "Shut up. You got what you wanted."

Theo's low chuckle vibrated against your skin as he nuzzled into your cheek. "Oh, I did indeed," he purred, his lips grazing the shell of your ear. "Now, who's next?"

Lorenzo's mischievous grin widened as he turned toward Mattheo, his eyes gleaming with mischief. "Truth or Dare, Riddle. You're up."

Mattheo leaned back, stretching lazily before his dark eyes flickered toward Lorenzo. "Dare, of course. Give me something good."

The game spiraled from there, the room filling with laughter and mock indignation as truth after truth was spilled, and dare after dare was accepted with varying degrees of bravado. Lorenzo had Blaise sprinting across the room in his underwear, Pansy revealing a rather scandalous secret about her latest fling, and Mattheo howling in laughter after being dared to serenade one of the portraits on the wall.

It wasn't long, however, before the attention returned to you, and the smirk on Lorenzo's face sent a chill crawling down your spine. His gaze lingered on you for a beat too long before he spoke.

"Y/N," Lorenzo began, the edges of his grin sharp. "I dare you to go up and explore the attic."

The room fell into a heavy silence, all eyes suddenly on you. Your heart clenched, beating too fast as you turned to look at the darkened staircase leading up to the second floor. The attic? You had barely been able to stomach walking through the front doors, let alone venturing into the bowels of the ancient manor—alone.

"Go to the attic... alone?" you repeated, your voice sounding far smaller than you'd intended. The shadows seemed to press closer, thickening the air.

Theo's fingers tightened around your waist, his familiar warmth grounding you for just a moment. You could feel his smirk without needing to look. He loved this, loved teasing you, loved pushing you to your limits just to see how far you'd go. And you hated that it worked every single time.

"Too much for you, love?" he whispered, his breath hot against your neck. "Because I can always come with you." His voice dropped lower, becoming a rumbling hum that sent a shiver racing down your spine. "Just imagine—us, together, in the dark... how thrilling that could be."

Your mouth went dry as his words sent your imagination spinning. You could feel the others watching, waiting for your response, but all you could focus on was the heat of Theo's body against yours and the way his fingers trailed possessively down your arm.

Theo's grin widened as he nipped at your earlobe, voice dark with amusement. "What do you say, Y/N? Want me to hold your hand?"

You huffed, pushing away the growing tension. "Shut up," you muttered again, glaring at him in mock irritation, though the playful twinkle in your eyes betrayed the act.

His hand slid from your waist to your lower back, and he leaned closer, whispering, "If you're too scared to go, just say the word. No shame in admitting it."

Your breath caught as his words lingered between you, a challenge wrapped in seduction. You squared your shoulders, unwilling to let him win. You'd spent far too long playing this game with Theodore Nott, and you weren't about to back down now.

"Fine," you said, louder this time as you stepped away from him, brushing his hands off with a deliberate flourish. "But I'm not going alone." You shot him a pointed look. "You're coming with me."

Theo's smirk softened, the gleam of triumph in his eyes unmistakable. "Of course I am," he murmured.

Lorenzo groaned dramatically from his spot on the couch. "Oh, come on, that's cheating! She's supposed to go by herself."

Mattheo chuckled from the other side of the room, shaking his head. "Let them have their fun. At least one of us might get something out of this trip to hell."

Ignoring the banter, Theo wrapped an arm around your shoulders and steered you toward the staircase. The creaking of the old wood echoed through the hall as you ascended, each step a reminder of the isolation waiting above. The air grew colder, thicker, the musty scent of forgotten years clinging to every surface. The hallway stretched out before you, dimly lit by the moonlight filtering through the cracked windows.

Theo's grip on you tightened as you reached the attic door, its old wooden frame warped and splintered with age. He paused, his hand on the doorknob, glancing at you with a raised brow. "Ready for this, love?" His voice was soft, teasing, but there was something darker flickering in his gaze, something that made your stomach flip in anticipation.

You hesitated, the weight of the dare pressing down on you like the air in the old manor, thick and suffocating. But with Theo by your side, that familiar heat spreading through your veins, you nodded. "Yeah."

With a smirk, Theo twisted the knob and pushed the door open with a loud creak.

The attic yawned before you—dark, dust-choked, and thick with an eerie stillness that made your skin prickle. Cobwebs clung to the rafters, and the only sound was the faint rustle of wind outside, whispering through the cracks in the walls.

You took a tentative step inside, the floorboards groaning beneath your weight. Theo was right behind you, his presence a steadying force as you ventured further into the darkness. Your heartbeat thudded in your ears, each step sending a pulse of adrenaline through your veins.

There was a four-poster bed lying in the middle of the attic, as if the people who lived here all those years ago had used it as a bedroom.

Theo, ever the opportunist, moved closer, running a finger along the edge of the mattress.

smut starts around here 🌶️

"This place really does have a certain charm, doesn't it?" He turned to you, a wicked glint in his eye. "Almost romantic, don't you think?"

Before you could respond, he pulled you onto the bed beside him, the springs creaking under your combined weight. His arms snaked around your waist, pulling you close as he nuzzled your neck.

“Romantic? That’s funny. You’re too horny for your own good, Theodore Nott.”

A low chuckle rumbled in his chest as he leaned in, lips grazing your ear. "Guilty as charged, love. But what can I say? You bring out the worst in me."

His hands roamed your body, tracing the curves of your hips, slipping under your shirt to tease the sensitive skin of your lower back. His touch ignited sparks across your flesh, and you found yourself arching into him, craving more.

With a deft tug, he pulled your shirt off over your head, tossing it carelessly aside. His gaze raked over your exposed torso, lingering on the swell of your breasts tucked away beneath your bra before meeting your eyes with a smoldering intensity. "Beautiful," he breathed, voice husky with desire. "Absolutely stunning."

He pulled back for a moment, swiftly running a hand over his face. “I actually, um… found some pretty interesting things of yours the other day. In your dorm.”

Your eyes narrowed, cheeks flushing with a mix of embarrassment and indignation. “What are you talking about?" you demanded, trying to keep your tone steady despite the sudden rush of heat coursing through your veins at the thought of Theo rummaging through your belongings.

Theo's smile widened, an amused glint dancing in his eyes as he reached into his messenger bag. He pulled out a small pink vibrator, waving it tauntingly before setting it on the bedside table. "This little number, for instance," he purred, leaning in closer, his breath hot against your ear. "I must say, it looks quite impressive."

Next, he produced a purple silicone dildo, holding it aloft like a trophy. "And then there's this... rather large toy you've got stashed away. Quite the collection you've got going on here, love." His gaze flicked back to your face, drinking in your reaction with a knowing smirk.

"How do these magic tricks work, hmm? Do they come with instructions, or are you an expert in carnal delights already?"

You felt your face flush even hotter at the sight of your most intimate belongings being waved around so casually. A surge of anger mixed with humiliation threatened to overwhelm you, but you forced yourself to maintain a facade of nonchalance.

"When did you even find those?” you murmured embarrassedly.

Theo's smirk deepened as he watched the play of emotions across your face—the blush staining your cheeks, the tension in your jaw, the defiant spark in your eyes. It was a delicious combination, one that stirred his blood and set his nerve endings alight with anticipation.

"Last week, when I stayed over at your dorm," he replied casually, as if discussing the weather. "I was looking for some cigs in your nightstand drawer while you were in the shower and well..." He shrugged, a picture of feigned innocence. "They just sort of jumped out at me.”

He traced a finger along the length of the dildo, humming thoughtfully before he moved closer, his fingers trailing up your thigh as he sat on the edge of the bed beside you. "Quite the naughty girl, aren't you, love?" He leaned in, capturing your lips in a searing kiss, tongue delving deep to claim every inch of your mouth.

As he kissed you deeply, Theo's hand slid higher, fingers brushing the waistline of your jeans, unbuttoning them before dipping underneath to caress the smooth skin of your inner thigh. His touch was electric, sending shivers racing up your spine as he teased the sensitive flesh mere inches from your core.

"So, tell me, baby," he murmured against your lips, breaking the kiss to trail his mouth along your jawline, nipping at the tender skin beneath your ear. "You prefer this—" He held up the dildo, wiggling it suggestively, “—fake cock when you have the real thing right here, always ready and willing?"

His fingers continued their maddening exploration, inching closer to the heat of your center with each passing second. His thumb rubbed against your clit through the thin barrier of your underwear, sending jolts of pleasure straight to your core. You bit your lip, trying to stifle a moan as he continued to tease you.

"I mean, they're cute and all, but nothing compares to the feel of my cock buried deep inside you, does it?" He leaned in, his breath hot against your ear as he whispered. He gestured to himself, his meaning clear. One hand drifted down to palm the bulge straining against his trousers, a silent invitation, a promise of pleasure.

"Is my girl really that impatient, hm?" he mused, a teasing lilt to his voice. "That she can't just wait for her boyfriend to come and fuck her senseless whenever she needs it?"

His fingers slipped beneath the waistline of your pants once again, teasing along the sensitive skin of your inner thighs. Your breathing hitched as his touch grew bolder, fingertips brushing against your clothed sex with feather-light strokes. The ache between your legs intensified, your panties dampening with each passing second.

He chuckled darkly, the sound vibrating through you like a physical caress. "Using these cheap substitutes instead of demanding what she really wants. Why don’t you give me a little demonstration?"

His hand cupped your mound possessively, applying pressure that made you squirm.

You gasped sharply as Theo's fingers pressed against your aching sex, the contact sending shivers racing down your spine. Your hips bucked involuntarily, seeking more friction, more relief from the throbbing need building within you.

“It’s not like that…” you mumbled. “Just… please…”

"Please what?" Theo arched a brow, a mocking tilt to his lips. "You think you deserve real dick right now after keeping secrets from me? After using toys behind my back like some desperate slut?"

He withdrew his hand abruptly, leaving you aching and empty. Rising from the bed, he stepped back, folding his arms across his chest as he leveled you with a stern look. "Strip. Now. Let's see how much of a show you can put on for me."

Theo's gaze raked over your body, his eyes lingering on the swell of your breasts, the curve of your hips. He licked his lips slowly, deliberately, a predatory gleam in his eye. "Come on, baby. Don’t get shy now. Show me what you've been hiding."

You kicked off your shoes, and as you unclasped your bra, he drank in the sight of your full breasts, nipples pebbling under his heated gaze. Lower still, past the dip of your waist and flare of your hips, until your jeans pooled at your feet, leaving you clad in only a scrap of lace.

“Fuck, look at you," he growled appreciatively, palming the growing hardness in his trousers. "Such a pretty little thing, aren't you? All mine to play with."

He relaxed back on a nearby armchair. "Now then, why don't you show me exactly what these toys of yours can do?"

Theo lounged back in the chair, his eyes never leaving you as you stood there trembling, exposed and vulnerable. A wicked grin spread across his face as he watched you with hooded eyes. “Go on then, sweetheart. Show me how you like to be fucked. Pretend I'm not even here."

As you grasped the dildo, he panted softly, drinking in the sight of your hand wrapped around the smooth plastic. He reached down to adjust his bulge, the fabric of his pants bunching obscenely as he watched you remove your panties.

You leaned back, spreading your legs wide in a lewd display, but you didn’t know what to do with the toy in your hand. Not when he was right in front of you.

A cruel smile played about his lips as he saw the hesitation in your eyes, the reluctance in your movements. "What's wrong, love? Suddenly shy? You weren't shy when you were fucking yourself silly with these, were you?"

With trembling hands, you brought the toy to your lips, flicking your tongue out, tracing the contours, coating it in saliva. Then, you trailed it lower, over your collarbone, between the valley of your breasts. You circled a nipple with the toy's tip, gasping at the sensation.

"There we go. Now, move it down and start rubbing it against your clit. Nice and slow. I want to see you squirm."

He reclined further into the chair, making no move to join you, simply observing your every move with an air of dark amusement.

You whimpered, feeling exposed and humiliated as you followed Theo's instructions. Your cheeks burned with shame as you brought the dildo to your aching sex, rubbing the slick head against your swollen clit.

You bit your lip hard enough to taste blood, fighting back tears of mortification. But beneath the embarrassment, a spark of arousal ignited, fueled by the knowledge that he was watching you so intently.

Your hips began to rock instinctively, the toy gliding through your wet folds, stroking places that made you shudder and moan quietly. You couldn't meet his gaze, too ashamed to see the smug satisfaction in his eyes.

"That’s my girl… Now, put it inside you where it belongs. Fill up that greedy little cunt.”

With a shaky breath, you aligned the dildo with your entrance, pushing it in gradually. Your walls clenched around the intrusion, and you cried out at the feeling. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as you forced yourself to relax, letting the toy sink deeper.

"Fuck, look at you taking it like a good little slut," Theo drawled, leaning forward in his chair to get a better view. He reached down to stroke himself lazily, his thumb rubbing circles over the straining bulge in his trousers.

Reaching for the smaller vibrator on the bed beside you, he tossed it onto the sheets. "Pick it up. I want to hear you scream as you cum all over both of them. Show me how well you can multitask."

Your hands shook as you fumbled for the small device, turning it on with a buzzing whine. You positioned it against your clit, the vibrations sending jolts of pleasure through your core. Your hips rolled faster, the dildo thrusting in and out of your stretched hole in rhythm with the toy's relentless stimulation.

“Come on. Make yourself cum while I watch you rut on that toy like a bitch in heat. I want to hear you moaning like the desperate whore you are.”

Theo's eyes gleamed with sadistic glee as he watched you writhe in ecstasy, your moans echoing off the walls. The obscene sounds of your self-pleasure filled the room, mingling with the creaks of the bed and the soft buzzing of the vibrator.

"That's it, baby. Fuck yourself senseless. Show me just how depraved you can be when you're alone with your filthy toys," he sneered, stroking himself harder through his trousers.

As the pleasure built to a fever pitch, your inner muscles clamped down on the dildo, milking it for all it was worth. With a keening wail, you came undone, your whole body shaking as wave after wave of intense orgasm crashed over you.

"You're so beautiful when you lose control like that," Theo purred.

He sat up straighter in his chair, his eyes burning with a dark hunger as he watched you collapse back onto the bed, spent and panting. "Look at you, covered in sweat and cum... Such a lovely mess."

He rose slowly, unbuckling his belt and freeing his aching cock. It sprang forth, thick and pulsing, already leaking precum. With a wicked grin, he climbed onto the bed, positioning himself between your splayed thighs.

Theo grabbed your wrists roughly, pulling them above your head and securing them to the headboard with silky ropes. He repeated the process with your ankles, spreading your legs obscenely wide and tying them to the footposts.

"Just relax, love. This won't hurt a bit," he murmured, his voice dripping with sarcasm as he bound your wrists above your head to the headboard.

Once you were completely immobilized, he stepped back to admire his work, licking his lips as he drank in the sight of your helpless, exposed body.

"I think it's time I took my turn playing with you," he rasped, trailing a finger along your slick slit. "Open up for me, sweetheart. Let me fill this greedy cunt with something real."

Theo's fingers probed your dripping entrance, circling the rim before pushing inside. He groaned low in his throat at the feel of your velvety walls clenching around him. "Fuck, you're still so tight... Even after all that."

He worked two fingers deep, pumping them slowly as he watched your face contort with pleasure. His thumb found your sensitive clit, rubbing firm circles over the bud. "I bet you'd love to have my cock instead, wouldn't you? To feel me splitting you open, filling you up until you can't take anymore?"

His voice dropped to a husky whisper. "Tell me you need it. Beg me to fuck you raw."

Your chest heaved with ragged breaths, your body trembling from the aftershocks of your intense climax. As Theo's fingers delved into your sensitive flesh, you bit your lip hard, trying to stifle the moans that threatened to spill free.

His words sent a shiver down your spine, the image of him replacing those fingers with his thick, throbbing cock making your pussy clench hungrily. You wanted it, craved the sensation of being stretched and filled beyond capacity.

"Yes," you whispered, your voice barely audible over the pounding of your heart. "Please, I need it. I need you inside me."

Theo smirked as he heard your breathy pleas, his ego swelling at the power he held over you. “Such a dirty, needy girl for me, aren’t you?”

With a growl of triumph, he lined himself up, the blunt head of his member nudging insistently at your entrance. In one swift motion, he hilted himself inside you, stretching you deliciously around his thick girth.

"Fuck!" he snarled, pulling nearly all the way out before slamming back in. The bed frame rattled with each powerful thrust, the obscene sound of flesh smacking against flesh filling the room. Theo set a brutal pace, pounding into you with single-minded focus, determined to make you scream.

Theo's hand shot down beside your body, grasping the vibrator. He turned it up to its highest setting, the intense vibrations making your entire pelvis quiver.

"This should really get you going, doesn't it?" he sneered, grinding the toy against your clit with each punishing thrust. "Feeling my cock splitting you open while this thing eats at your poor little pussy..."

His words were punctuated by the lewd slap of skin on skin as he continued to rail into you, his heavy balls slapping against your ass with each brutal stroke. The dual sensations of the vibrator and his cock driving into you relentlessly pushed you closer and closer to the edge.

Your body jerked violently as the vibrator hit full force, the intense vibrations making your clit throb in time with Theo's merciless thrusts. The restraints held you in place, forcing you to submit to every punishing stroke, every deep, grinding push against your cervix.

Pleasure and pain blurred together, the overwhelming sensations threatening to short-circuit your mind. Tears streamed down your face, your vision blurring at the edges as you teetered on the brink of another explosive orgasm.

Your toes curled, your back arching as much as the bonds would allow, trying to take him even deeper.

You cried out, writhing around, the restraints holding you back as he used you mercilessly, tears pricking your eyes. His free hand grabbed at your tits, roughly squeezing them as his thumb flicked over your nipple.

"Don't hold back now, cum for me, pretty girl," Theo commanded, his own climax rapidly approaching.

Theo felt your walls spasming wildly around him, signaling your impending orgasm. He redoubled his efforts, pistoning into you with ruthless intensity as the vibrator buzzed against your clit.

"That's it, baby, make a mess for me,” he muttered, his own release coiling tightly in his abdomen.

Your cry of ecstasy echoed through the room as you shattered, convulsing beneath him in the throes of an intense climax. Theo rode out your waves of pleasure, prolonging your orgasm with deliberate thrusts.

Just as he was about to crest the peak himself, he abruptly pulled out, leaving you empty and aching. With a few quick strokes, he spilled his seed across your stomach and chest, painting you in his essence.

Theo collapsed beside you on the bed, chest heaving as he caught his breath. After a moment, he wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you against his side.

"I love you, baby.” He pressed a tender kiss to your forehead, his touch soothing as he wiped a strand of sweat-dampened hair from your face. “Let’s clean you up.” And with a flick of his wand, the white fluids covering you were gone.

“Our friends probably think we’re dead by now, you know. We’ve been up here for so long,” you murmured.

“Darling, I’m pretty sure they’re smart enough to know that the screaming coming from up here wasn’t because of ghosts.”

kinktober taglist: @mattheoriddles-slutt @theeslutintheroom @esmerai-artemis @gigival @cloudyyydayzzz @sn000py @abeoavita @yesiamthatwierd @shaquilles-0atmeal @roseofsharron438 @iouinotes @romantasyreader28 @c3liaaaaa @daenerystorgayren @emma-grace0 @tori-303 @ilovehpb0ys

Sleeping after an argument

mattheo riddle x reader

Summary : you decided not to sleep with him after an argument

In the dimness of his room, you sit on the edge of the bed, your heart heavy with frustration. The walls echo with the reverberations of an seemingly endless argument. He stands, a sharp gaze in his eyes, his poisoned words filling the air.

"Why are you always like this?" you ask, trying to contain your own anger. "Your attitude is toxic, Mattheo. It can't go on like this."

He sneers, an ironic smile distorting his face. "Oh, now it's my fault? You're always the victim, aren't you?"

You take a deep breath, trying to calm the flames of anger rising within you. "It's not about being a victim. It's about mutual respect. You can't keep acting this way."

Mattheo approaches, his presence oppressive. "Mutual respect? Funny coming from you. You just criticize me, judge me."

"Because you act disrespectfully! You constantly attack me, and I can't take it anymore."

He shrugs, disdainful. "If you can't take it, leave. No one is forcing you to stay."

The tension reaches its peak. You stand up, facing Mattheo with determination. "Maybe that's what I should do."

The words hang in the air, heavy with consequences. The room is filled with the silence that follows an argument, and you wonder if this confrontation marks the end of something, or perhaps the beginning of a new dynamic.

Frustrated by the atmosphere, Mattheo abruptly stands up and heads to the bathroom, using the excuse of needing to prepare in there to escape the confrontation. You remain in the room, Mattheo's dark look still echoing in the air. The decision not to spend the night in this toxic atmosphere takes hold in you, and you head to the bathroom as well.

Reflecting in the bathroom, you decide to leave the unresolved argument behind and choose not to sleep that night. The idea of returning to your shared room with Pansy becomes a tempting refuge. Exiting the bathroom, you silently slip through the hallway, deliberately avoiding Mattheo's room.

Meanwhile, Mattheo, after anxiously waiting in the bathroom for some time, starts to worry about your absence. Concerned, he knocks on the door, softly calling, "My love, are you okay?" Faced with your silence, he eventually opens the door, discovering that you're no longer there. Regret fills him as he realizes the impact of his behavior.

Determined to find you, Mattheo heads towards the girls' dormitory, disregarding any rules of decency. His only thought is to bring you back to him, suddenly realizing how crucial your presence is to him.

Upon opening the door to your room, he notices Pansy's absence, but you're there, asleep in your bed, hugging a pillow that was supposed to replace him for the night. Mattheo gently removes the pillow from your arms, slipping into its place. He embraces you tenderly, whispering an "I love you" in your ear, realizing the foolishness of the argument. He holds you tightly, hoping that you'll find it in yourself to forgive him despite the hurtful words he uttered.

mattheo's mixtape.

pairing: mattheo riddle x reader.

song inspiration: lovesong by the cure.

author's note: this idea has been in my head for so long, but now it's finally out. strap in babes, we're simping for mattheo on main. something about those pretty brown eyes and angelic little curls just get me. your honor, i adore him.

The bell outside the door to the record store chimed softly as the boys ventured inside. Mattheo peered curiously at the buzzing neon sign, the slightly scuffed black and white vinyl floor, and the racks and racks of records lining the walls. Though he hadn’t been to the muggle side of Edinburgh, it didn’t look all that different from its magical counterpart.

Yet Mattheo felt like a fish out of water all the same. 

Behind him, Theo continued rambling as they perused the vast collection of records laid out before them. “What songs have you picked out? Is there a theme? We’ll need to collect all the tapes for the cassette recorder and compile them all into a single tape.” 

The slew of questions Theo threw his way was enough to make him feel overwhelmed. Mattheo was well aware that he was completely out of his depth here, but he was determined to learn. Admittedly, he was quite ignorant of the muggle world until you came into his life. The more you told him about the queer customs and traditions of the non-magical population, the more he began to crave your stories of taking the tube, eating fish and chips until you were sick, and visiting Brighton with your cousins over the summer holiday. 

There was a whole world out there that you were a part of, which made him want to be part of it as well.

“You boys alright?” asked the kind woman behind the counter. "Would you like some help?"

Mattheo shied away from the attention, but as usual, Theo turned on his charm and flashed a winning smile at the older woman. “As a matter of fact, we do,” his friend drawled. “My mate here is looking to make a mixtape for his girlfriend.” 

The woman smiled warmly. “How sweet. I remember those days. There’s nothing quite as magical as first love,” she said with a dreamy, faraway expression. “I’d be happy to help. What songs did you have in mind?” 

After turning over his list, the woman, who turned out to be the owner of the record store, helped compile the cassettes Mattheo needed in order to make the mixtape. She patiently showed them how to record each track and slowed down the instructions so Mattheo could diligently write down notes. 

As Mattheo waited for the next track to record, he watched as Theo tried and failed to flirt with the older woman. 

“I’m flattered, dear. But I’m old enough to be your mum.” Mattheo snickered, causing his best friend to glare at him. 

“Age is nothing but a number, Annette.” 

“You’re a persistent one, aren’t you? I’m sure you’ll find your match someday, Theodore. As I have in my husband, whom I’m happily married to.” She turned over to Mattheo and smiled. “He was my first love too.” 

Making small talk had never been Mattheo’s strong suit and you often teased him that engaging in polite conversation with a stranger every once in a while wouldn’t kill him. Without fail, he sarcastically responded that it genuinely might, which earned him an eye roll. A fond one, though. Followed by a lip bite as you attempted to conceal a smile. 

“How long have you been together?” Mattheo asked curiously. 

“Twenty years,” Annette answered proudly. “Though we were friends for ages before he finally mustered up the courage to ask me out.”

Theo snorted. “Sounds familiar.” 

Mattheo swatted the back of his head. “My girl and I started out as friends too. Best friends, actually.”

“Hey!” Theo whined. “I take offense to that. I’ve known you longer. Only difference is that you and Y/N snog, which I’m more than open to if you asked.” The wink he sent Mattheo's way made the other boy blanch.

“Sorry about him.” It was a sentiment he was quite familiar with when it came to Theo. The twat tended to flirt with anything that had a pulse. Come to think of it, he wouldn't put it past Theo to chat up a corpse. Merlin knows Mattheo had witnessed his friend trying out a pick up line on the Grey Lady. “So, your husband. When did you realize he was the one?” 

“There wasn’t a specific moment, per say,” Annette said thoughtfully. “It’s a culmination of our history together. Since we were friends for so long, Declan just knew me. He knew how I took my coffee and had it ready for me first thing in the morning. He knew that I hated driving in the snow and always offered to give me lift to work when it did. He knew that I had a soft spot for strays and never complained when I brought them home. Declan makes me feel safe. Like I could weather anything the world threw at me as long as he was by my side. I guess when you know, you know."  

Mattheo pondered her words. He couldn’t help but recall all the times that his life felt like a never ending shit storm, like it would swallow him whole and drown him from the weight of his troubles. Yet at the end of the day, he always knew that after the storm came the rainbow. That’s what you were for him. You colored his world so brightly that the dark seemed inconsequential compared to your light. 

“Y/N makes me feel like that too,” Mattheo declared. “She’s patient and kind. She’s the type of person that always sees the good in people. She saw it in me even when I couldn’t see it myself.” 

Behind him, Theo sniffled as he patted his shoulder. For all his jokes and sarcasm, his friend was actually a hopeless romantic deep down. “For Salazar’s sake, Mattheo. Don’t make me bawl like a baby in front of the pretty lady.” Theo wiped at the corner of his eyes rather dramatically. “If Y/N doesn’t marry you someday, then I will. I bet my legs would look amazing in a white dress.”

At that, Mattheo chuckled. He was suddenly glad that his best friend was more than willing to be dragged along in Mattheo’s endeavors to impress his girl. Salazar knew he never would've gotten this far without Theo's self-proclaimed expertise on all things muggle, thanks to his Advanced Muggle Studies class.

As they wrapped up, Mattheo thanked Annette for all her help. Theo promised to come back and winked over his shoulder as Mattheo gathered all of his supplies. The older woman smiled at him as they parted ways.

"Best of luck, Mattheo. Though I doubt you need it. Thank you for indulging an old woman. It was genuinely a pleasure to be able to help you today."

"No, thank you. Y/N is going to love it."

"Your girlfriend is a very lucky girl."

Mattheo shook his head. "I'm the lucky one. This is the least I could do to show her how much I..." he trailed off, trying to find the right words. "How much I care for her."

Care didn't seem like a strong enough word, but it was close. Mattheo wasn't sure he could fully verbalize the intensity of what he felt for you. You weren't just his girlfriend. You were his best friend, too. His confidante. His rock. You were everything to him.

“Remember what I told you. When you know, you know." She patted Mattheo's shoulder. "You talk about Y/N like I talk about my husband. It's clear that she's very special to you. Don't let go of that one."

Mattheo smiled to himself, his cheeks flushing. “I won't.” 

The midnight moon glowed above the Scottish Isles, enveloping the rocky shores of the Black Lake with a chilly breeze that made you shudder even underneath the comfort of your red and gold striped sweater. 

“Are you cold?” Mattheo asked softly, his voice echoing through the empty beach. 

Before you could respond, your boyfriend shrugged off his coat and wrapped it around your shoulders. With a shy smile, you thanked Mattheo and flushed as he took your hand in his. As you continued on your late night stroll, he cleared pebbles in your path to ensure that you didn’t trip over them on the way to the dock. 

It was the little things—the small gestures that Mattheo enacted on a daily basis that made you fall for him even more. Though the relationship was fairly new, the connection between you was undeniable. Perhaps because you started out as potions partners, which eventually blossomed into friendship and now you couldn’t even remember a time when he wasn’t part of your life. 

The two of you settled at the end of the dock and the rickety wood creaked underneath the weight, adjusting to its visitors as Mattheo cuddled you into his side. Warmth radiated off of him, heating you from the inside out with a pleasant flush. Mattheo chuckled as you shoved your cold hands underneath his sweater, curling his fingers around yours and warming you up like your own personal heater. 

“So, why did you want to come out here tonight?” you asked after a moment. 

As you peered up at him, the moonlight kissed your boyfriend’s features, illuminating the sharp edges of his jawline and cheekbones, curving down the slope of his nose and stopping right above his Cupid’s bow where his soft, plush lips curled into a shy smile as he blinked down at you. 

The flush on his cheeks was almost an exact match to the crimson scarf around your neck. He absentmindedly fidgeted with your fingers, his chocolate brown eyes flickering over your face nervously. Mattheo looked so shy and earnest, so unlike the bad boy persona that everyone else seemed to attribute to your boyfriend. 

“I made you something,” he stated. You watched as he reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a cassette tape that you hadn’t noticed before. “I noticed that you listen to music while studying or walking through the halls, so I thought I’d compile a few of my favorite songs for you.” 

Your heart warmed at this beautiful boy. “You made me a mixtape?” 

Mattheo nodded, his angelic curls grazing his cheeks. “I can’t take all of the credit. Theo helped me quite a bit. I wasn’t sure how to make the tape for you, but he did since he’s taking Advanced Muggle Studies. We went into town last weekend and this lovely woman from the record shop showed us how to track and record the songs. I picked the ones that remind me of you the most.” 

You looked down at the cassette tape and smiled. The front was covered in little red hearts and spelled out in your boyfriend’s familiar scrawl was Matty’s Mixtape. As if that weren’t enough to make you swoon, underneath the tape was a small booklet with more of Mattheo’s handwriting. You smiled at his selection of songs. There was a mix of Queen, the Cure, the Clash, and of course, the Smiths. It was like having a little piece of Mattheo in your hands.

“I made you a booklet too. There’s a tracklist with reasons why I picked the songs,” Mattheo shuffled beside you, his body language conveying an uncharacteristic shyness. “I also drew a couple of things.” 

Sure enough, the booklet was filled with your boyfriend’s drawings. Your eyes filled with tears as you turned the pages. Mattheo rarely showed anyone his art. He was incredibly protective of anything he created since it showed a certain vulnerability. The fact that he was trusting you with it wasn’t something you took for granted. 

You traced over the drawings with a fond smile. There were portraits of you on one page, while the others contained memories that you were quite attached to. Your first date at the Three Broomsticks. The first time you wore his quidditch sweater to a Slytherin vs. Ravenclaw match. The day you shared a cup of hot chocolate at Madam Puddifoot’s when the two of you were just friends. They were all in here, immortalized on paper. 

Beside you, Mattheo watched anxiously as you flipped through the pages. When you got to the last one, you grinned up at him. “Matty, these are incredible.” 

“Really?” He asked, sounding a bit unsure. “You don’t think they’re cheesy?” 

“No, I love it!” You threw your arms around him and squeezed your boyfriend into a bear hug. He chuckled, burying his face in your hair and savoring the feel of you in his arms. As you pulled away to face him, Mattheo tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear. His heart hurt just to look at you. He really couldn’t believe you were his. You smiled softly. “And I love you.” 

You said it firmly, like it was a matter-of-fact. Like you were reciting a truth as fundamental as gravity. 

“You love me?” 

“I do,” you replied with a smile. “I love you, Mattheo Riddle.”

“Are you sure?” 

“Absolutely positive.” 

“I just don’t want you to feel like you have to say it because I made you this mixtape and gave you cheesy drawings—”

He stopped mid-sentence as you grabbed his face with both hands. Mattheo softened at the fierce determination in your eyes. “Mattheo. You’re the best boyfriend I’ve ever had. Before that, you were the best friend I’ve ever had too. You treat me like a queen and I never have to worry about other girls trying to talk to you because you never even give them the time of day. You make me soup when I’m sick. You give me your jumpers when I’m cold. You bring me coffee when I’m pulling all nighters. I couldn’t ask for a better boyfriend, so yes. I love you. Not because of the mixtape or the drawings, but because you’re you.”

Mattheo was taken aback. Before you, he never thought he was capable of caring for someone so deeply. You were ingrained in him. It was like the universe had cleaved his soul in two and he’d spent an eternity searching for you. You were his other half—the better half of him that he’d been missing all along. Now that he found you, he had no intention of letting you go. 

The lovestruck expression on his face warmed your heart. His eyes—those sweet, warm brown eyes made you feel weak in the knees. Mattheo cradled your jaw and looked at you like you were the only girl in the world. 

“I love you too, Y/N.” 

You smiled as he leaned forward, bringing your lips to his in a tender kiss. He sighed in relief like he’d been waiting for this all day, fingers snaking through your hair as your body melted into his. Mattheo hummed, peppering kisses all over your face. You giggled as he pecked your cheeks, nose, jaw, and neck. 

“I love you, I love you, I love you,” he declared with every kiss. 

Burying your face into his neck, you inhaled the familiar scent of amber, cinnamon, and leather. Mattheo sighed as you scratched his scalp.

“Will you tell me about the songs while we listen to them?” you murmured against his skin. 

Mattheo nodded as his curls tickled your cheek. “Of course, sweetheart.”

He pulled out a cassette player and popped the tape in. You cuddled into his side, smiling as he presented you with one half of the headphones. The soft crooning sound of the Smiths filled your ears as Mattheo played with your hair, telling you little anecdotes about the band and how Theo almost knocked over the cassette recorder while he tried to flirt with the record shop owner. 

You chuckled as you listened, picking up the sweet lyrics that made Mattheo choose the songs in the first place. You loved each one of his picks, but the best song by far was the sound of his heartbeat thudding in your ears, syncing with your own as it beat for him and him alone.

Kiss Me Again - Mattheo Riddle

Request: heyy oh my God I seriously love your work, could you do one where they are best friends but like each other and won't confess but one day they both realise they are in love wc: 4.2k warnings: fluff, kissing, swearing Summary: you and Mattheo have been friends since the beginning of school, the two of you like each other but neither wants to admit it, scared that it would damage your relationship. The two of you decide to take a break from studying and sneak around Hogwarts and then one thing leads to another...

Mattheo Riddle, he had been your best friend for pretty much as long as you can remember. You grew up together, helped eachother threw everything, stuck by each others sides. You were fortunate to have most of your classes together, and even outside of class the two of you hung out.

You had the same friends, got pretty much the same grades and had very similar hobbies... it was rare to see one without the other. 

The Hogwarts library stood as a citadel of tranquility, a bastion of wisdom and knowledge amidst the bustling halls of Hogwarts. Right now, you and Mattheo Riddle found yourselves engrossed in your studies, the air thick with the scent of parchment and the soft murmur of whispered incantations.

Seated side by side at a wooden table tucked amidst towering shelves, you and Mattheo immersed yourselves in textbooks and scrolls, the task at hand a mere facade for the unspoken emotions that danced between you.

Mattheo’s voice cut through the silence, "You alright, you've been pretty quiet for a while?"

You shot him a playful glare, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "Well we are in the library Mattheo, we're meant to be quiet."

Mattheo rolled his eyes, a small smile tugging on his lips, "yeah well you practically never shut up," a small laugh falling from his lips. This of course earnt him an eye roll, which he caught onto, yet he somehow managed to miss the little sparkle that glinted in your eye as you looked at his smiling face.

You sat there for a while, occasionally bickering or leaning over to ask for help when getting stuck on something, but due to exams coming up in only a few days, the two of you understood that you had to try your best to stay on task. Textbooks sprawled open, parchment filled with notes, and a shared determination to conquer the complexities of magical theory.

"Have you seen this spell?" you queried, pointing to a particularly intricate incantation in your book. You had been looking at it for the past 10 minutes or so, waving your wand around trying to get the right movement, but it seemed no matter how hard you tried, it just wasnt working how you wanted it to. 

Mattheo leaned closer, his presence enveloping you in a warmth that sparked an indescribable sensation. You felt the hairs on your arm stick up, a warm feeling flushing in your chest as he leaned over your shoulder. "Ah, that one’s tricky. Let me show you a more efficient way to cast it."

His nearness sent a flutter through your senses, a magnetic pull that threatened to unravel the careful veil hiding the unspoken desires within. He reached over, his hand landing on top of yours and guiding your hand smoothly, "there you are, easy peasy."

"Thanks..." you murmured out, finally taking a breath as he leant back away from you.

As the sun dipped lower, signaling the arrival of evening, you and Mattheo began to gather your belongings. The unspoken feelings simmered beneath the layers of laughter and stolen glances, a silent understanding that bound your hearts in a dance of friendship and concealed affection.

Mattheo broke the tranquil silence, his voice softer than usual. "The library is closing soon, we should continue this in my dorm. You should head back to your dorm and get in something more comfy then come over"

You nodded, a faint smile gracing your lips. "Yeah, ok are the boys in the dorm?"

"Nah Jasper and Theodore are over in Lorenzo's dorm and Draco is with Blaise," Mattheo replied, his gaze holding a depth that hinted at more than mere friendship as he packed his books, "so it'll be just us."

"Cool, see ya soon," you grinned widely, brushing your hair behind your ear unconciously. 

*

After getting changed into something more comfortablein your dorm and a fresh spritz of purfume on you began your walk back to Mattheo's dorm (I'm trying my best to make it so it doesnt matter what house you are in so sorry if it's a little confusing). You couldnt help it as your mind trailed off to Mattheo. You knew you shouldnt be feeling this way, but you couldnt help it... this is wrong, he's my best friend. 

He was more than that though, he was an important aspect in your life, and you couldnt imagine life without him.He’s always had your back and stood up for you. He's defended you against teachers and students, he's protected you from the dark horrors that come with being born to Bellatrix Lestrange and Tom Riddle, growing up in Malfoy Manor.

You were well aware of the fact that you've liked him for a while now, just a small girl crush... but lately its only seemed to get worse. You’ve caught yourself staring at him frequently, admiring his brown curls and earthy eyes, you've tried to ignore the overwhelming feeling of butterflies that you get every time he laughs, or the tingling sting that you get whenever your skin comes in contact with his. 

In the embrace of his hug, you find solace, pressed snugly against the contours of his toned chest. The rhythmic thud of his heartbeat against your skin forms an intimate symphony, a melody that soothes your very core, making you feel inexplicably safe.

His gentle touch, brushing away a stray tendril of hair from your face, sends a wave of warmth coursing through you. It's a tender gesture that beckons you to close your eyes and surrender to the comforting sensation of his fingers against your skin.

As his hand encircles your waist, drawing you nearer, an undeniable sense of belonging washes over you. In that moment, with Mattheos’s touch securing you, it feels like the perfect fit—your bodies in sync, entwined in a moment that feels destined.

The yearning for more intensifies, an undeniable craving for closeness, for the electrifying sensation of his touch. It's a desire that lingers, urging you to lean into the embrace, to savor every shared moment with Mattheo, wishing for an eternity in his arms

Shit I sound crazy you rolled your eyes at yourself, shaking the thoughts off and continuing your walk. 

What you didnt know was that Mattheo had felt the same way. You didnt notice how he had started sitting even closer to you now, or the fact that he was constantly trying to come up with ways to inconspicuously touch you. You didnt notice the way he would put his hand on your back and lead you threw the halls when there were lots of people, or how if you were ever close to hitting your head on the corner of a cupboard or desk he would reach over and cover the surface with his hand. 

Once you finally get to the door of his dorm, you knock a few times before pushing the door open, walking in to find Mattheo on the bed. "Hey Theo," you grumbled, dropping your bag to the ground and then jumping on the bed next to him with a tired sigh.

"Hey love."

*

“come on, you've got it, just try it a few more times and it'll be perfect”, Mattheo says from his desk, his chair rolling around to face you where you were lying on his bed, books laying around you. 

“I cant do it Theo”, you sigh loudly, throwing your head back dramatically, “it's a stupid spell and I probably wont even use it after we leave school so why the hell do we even have to learn it.” 

“Quit whining”, Mattheo replies, laughing whilst shaking his head, "it's not even that hard."

“It's not fair, why does an idiot like you get to be so smart without even trying”, you pout softly, pulling yourself up in a sitting position.  

Mattheo's insistence on revisiting the notes for the umpteenth time made you almost desperate. You were tired and this was beginning to get frustrating, you hated it when you werent good at something.  You took a deep breath, gathering the courage to speak up. "Please, Theo. I understand that good grades mean everything to you and how pressured you are with all of this, but I'm seriously starting to go out of my mind. I have hardly slept and this is giving me a really bad headache."

His silence made you nervous; you hadn't intended to come across so harshly. Mattheo seemed absorbed in his thoughts, clearly thinking about what to say or do. He understood that you were tired, the two of you, along with much of your grade had been waking up early and going to sleep late for the last few weeks in order to study for the exams. But this was all important, the two of you planned to become Aurors together when you left school, and you needed really good grades for that.

You bit your lip, grappling with your impatience. "Matth-"

A frustrated sigh escaped Mattheo's lips. You felt guilty, you knew why he tried so hard for his grades. He didnt want to turn out like his mother and father and the people around him at home, he wanted to do good. He needed good grades to help him escape. 

Meeting his gaze, you found his intense brown eyes locked onto yours. "I apologize. You're right," he admitted, raking his hand through his brunette curls, your eyes went wide in shock, you hadnt actually expected him to agree with you, and you definietly didnt think that the next words would fall out of his lips, "hell it might even be a good idea for me to have a break, i'm tired too-"

Mattheo stood up, shutting his books and then stumbling over to the bed, a goofy smile on his face as he stuck his hand out in your direction. You looked up at him with furrowed brows, not exactly sure where he was going with this. When you said that the two of you needed to take a break, you just thought that the two of you would just chill and talk for a while, maybe lay down for a bit. 

"Up ya hop," he beckoned, making a grabby motion with his hands a few times before sticking his open palm closer to your face, "move it or lose it mate," he continues. You raise your brows at him, hesitating before carefully reaching out to take his hand

Should I grab his hand?

"Merlin," Mattheo groaned, rolling his eyes before just grabbing her hand and then tugging her off the bed

"Hey asshole!" you complained, glaring up at him as he tugged you towards the door of his dorm, grabbing a jumper that was hanging over the back of his desk chair. 

"Dont blame me, if we sat around here waiting for you to make up your mind then we'd be waiting till christmas," Mattheo complained sarcastically, pulling her down the hall and towards the main part of the common room. 

As Mattheo dragged you along, you stumbled to keep up with his brisk pace, shooting him an annoyed glare. "Seriously, where are we going?" you demanded, trying to slow his progress by digging your heels into the floor.

But Mattheo seemed determined, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Just trust me," he said with a smirk, not offering any further explanation.

You let out an exasperated sigh but relented, deciding to go along with whatever crazy idea he had in mind. You allowed him to tug you through the common room and out into the crisp evening air of the halls of the castle. It was late at night and since they were in the dungeons, it was freezing. There were no students anywhere, and the teachers were also more than likely in bed. 

"Wait, Mattheo, it's freezing out here!" you protested, shivering as a gust of wind swept by, making you regret not grabbing a jacket.

He chuckled, seemingly unfazed by the cold. "Don't worry, I've got you covered," he assured, reaching for the jumper he had grabbed earlier. With a grin, he draped it over your shoulders, the warmth of the fabric immediately comforting.

"Thanks," you mumbled, feeling a bit guilty for calling him an asshole just moments ago.

Without missing a beat, Mattheo resumed his course, leading you through the halls. Mattheo glanced around the halls, noticing the dimly lit corners and hidden alcoves. With a mischievous glint in his eyes, he leaned in and whispered, "I've heard rumors about secret passages hidden within the castle. Wanna go on a little exploration?"

Your curiosity piqued at the mention of secret passages. Nodding eagerly, you followed Mattheo as he led the way, navigating through the deserted corridors of the castle. Shadows danced on the walls, and the quiet of the night added an eerie yet thrilling atmosphere to your adventure.

Stopping in front of an intricately designed tapestry depicting a hunting scene, Mattheo grinned. "This is it," he whispered excitedly, pulling on a loose thread near the edge of the tapestry.

To your amazement, the tapestry shifted, revealing a concealed entrance behind it. Mattheo gestured for you to follow as he stepped through the hidden doorway. The passage was dimly lit by flickering torches, the air cool and musty.

You trailed behind Mattheo as you ventured deeper into the hidden corridors. The passages twisted and turned, leading you through a labyrinthine network beneath the castle. Dusty tomes and forgotten artifacts lined shelves carved into the stone walls, hinting at the secrets hidden within.

Occasionally, you stumbled upon locked doors or dead ends, but Mattheo's enthusiasm never waned. He seemed to have a natural talent for navigating the hidden passages, leading you further into the mysterious depths of the castle.

After what felt like an exhilarating journey through time and history, you stumbled upon a chamber bathed in a soft, ethereal glow. In the center stood an ancient-looking pedestal with a book resting upon it, emitting a faint shimmer.

"Is that...?" you started, your voice barely a whisper as you glanced at Mattheo, both of you captivated by the enigmatic sight before you.

Mattheo nodded in awe, his eyes reflecting the soft light. "I heard that there used to be this Ancient magic around Hogwarts that only a select few could see and use... apparently a goblin called Ranrok or something tried to gain control of that power but was stopped by a Hogwarts student who could see and use the magic, this is supposed to be her diary or something, there could be some cool stuff in there," he murmured, approaching the pedestal with caution.

You joined him, the book's pages radiating an otherworldly aura. As you reached out to touch it, a distant sound echoed through the chamber—a faint rattling followed by the unmistakable shuffle of footsteps.

Startled, you exchanged a quick glance with Mattheo before hastily retreating back into the hidden passages, leaving the mysterious book untouched. Heart pounding with excitement and adrenaline, you navigated the twisting corridors, making your way back to the safety of the castle's main corridors.

Breathless and exhilarated, you both burst into laughter as you emerged from the hidden entrance, relieved to have escaped without detection.

Caught up in the thrill of your secret exploration, you and Mattheo leaned against the castle wall, trying to catch your breath. The rush of adrenaline and the shared excitement created a bond between you that felt unbreakable.

As you exchanged a knowing glance, the unspoken promise of more adventures lingered in the air, filling you both with a sense of anticipation for the mysteries yet to be unraveled within the castle's hidden passages.

"Students out of bed!" They suddenly hear, their eyes widening at the familiar voice or Filch. They turned their heads to look down the corridor, a small hint of light making its way closer from one of the corners further down

"Oh shit!" Mattheo whispered, grabbing your hand and then yanking you through the halls once again. 

"You can run but you cant hide!"

"Ouch Mattheo! You're gonna rip my fucking arm off you pri-"

Mattheo had grabbed you around the waist and thrown you over his shoulder. A small 'hmph' falling from your lips at the rough impact of his shoulder digging into your stomach. "Theo that hurts!" you whisper yell, smaking him softly on the back as he continues to run, Filch on your tail. 

Mattheo quickly turns the corner and then pulls you both into a cupboard, slamming the door shut behind you both and putting you on the ground in front of him, his chest heaving up and down as he tried to catch his breath, a few small beads of sweat trickling down his forhead. 

Mattheo let out an annoyed groan, "Fuck that was cl-"

You slap your hand over his mouth with one hand, using your free hand to put your finger up to your lips, telling him to shush before leaning your head against the door, trying to listen to whatever was going on outside, praying to god that Filch wasnt going to find you. 

The footsteps outside grew louder, the sound of keys jingling and muttering becoming clearer. Filch's voice pierced through the silence, his grumbling indicating his frustration at not finding the mischievous students.

Mattheo's chest rose and fell rapidly as he tried to control his breathing, his eyes wide with anticipation and a hint of nervous excitement. You pressed against the door, your heart racing in sync with the rapid beat of footsteps passing by the cupboard's hiding spot.

Silence descended upon the corridor, broken only by the distant echoes of Filch's fading voice as he continued his search elsewhere. Mattheo let out a relieved exhale, his shoulders slumping as he leaned back against the cupboard.

"Phew," he whispered, a small grin tugging at the corner of his lips.

You shot him a playful glare, still catching your breath from being carried over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. "Warn me before you decide to play hero next time," you teased, trying to suppress a giggle.

Mattheo chuckled softly, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "Sorry about that, had to think fast. You know how Filch is, always lurking around looking for cool kids like me."

"I think you mean dumbasses," you shot back jokingly

"Well you're out here too arent you?" he fired, a raised eyebrow paired with a smirk on his handsome face

"Hush," you grinned. 

"Merlin im buggered," Mattheo yawned. Mattheo flashed you a grin, his eyes alight with excitement. "Well, that was fun, wasn't it?"

You couldn't help but laugh, the thrill of the chase mixing with the shared relief at narrowly avoiding getting caught. "Definitely an adventure I won't forget anytime soon," you replied, still catching your breath.

You nodded in agreement, the adrenaline still coursing through your veins from the near encounter. The adrenaline rush began to fade, you went to open the door, pushing on it, but it didnt seem to budge.

“It won’t open.” You mumbled out, trying to push the door again

“What?” Mattheo asked, his breathing starting to go back to normal

“It won’t open.” you repeated with a frown as you pushed against the door yet again, but the hardwood didn’t budge. 

"Yeah right," Mattheo muttered out, going to push the door thinking that maybe you just werent pushing it hard enough, "what the hell..."

“It’s…not so bad. It is probably just jammed or something — do you have your wand?.”

The realization that the door wouldn't budge sent a jolt of unease through both of you. Mattheo reached into his pocket, rummaging around for his wand, but his expression turned to one of dismay.

"Damn it, I left it back in the dorm room," he muttered, a tinge of worry edging into his voice. "But don't worry, its only a few more hours till everyone is up so someone will find us soon, and until then we can just chill or try and get the door open"

"This isn't good," you murmured, trying to keep your tone steady despite the rising worry in your chest.

*

The night was not supposed to go like this.

Heat sweltered between them, and not only because of the walls encasing them on every side, and the small space plus their added body heat, but the fact that they were so close together. 

“Stop moving.” Mattheo mumbled as he looked up at the ceiling, his cheeks pink as he forced himself to look away from her, trying his best to stay calm and not freak out from the close proximity

"Sorry," you muttered, but once again shuffled unconsciously, the nerves taking over you as you grew more and more anxious, you didnt do well with small spaces, you were tired, and you were chest to chest with the boy you cared for more than anyone else 

"Y/n." Mattheo grumbled sternly

“I can’t help it!” You responded anxiously. “Im tired and my legs are so sore, theres rat shit on the ground so I cant sit down, and I'm fucking cold Mattheo,” She pounded on the door, no longer caring if they got in trouble from the teachers, she just wanted to get out of there

“Hey, hey, you've just gotta stay calm okay, its alright!” Mattheo said softly, realising just how much she was beginning to freak out.

The cramped space amplified the tension between you, a mix of frustration, anxiety, and the unspoken feelings lingering in the air. Mattheo's attempts to keep the atmosphere calm were admirable, but the situation tested both your patience and composure.

"I know, I know," you muttered, attempting to steady your breathing. "I'm just... I'm not good with this. It's too much."

Mattheo's eyes softened with understanding, his usual mischievous demeanor giving way to a more caring expression. He reached out and gently placed a hand on your shoulder, offering a reassuring squeeze.

"It's okay. We'll get through this," he said, his voice calming, though the unease lingered in his own words, "im here okay, you're okay."

You looked up at him, gazing into his brown eyes. He gave you a small smile

Damn it, theres that stupid feeling again. 

His smile was then replaced with an unreadable expression. "You okay?" you muttered, confused by his atttitude change

Mattheo's eyes lingered on you, an unspoken question reflecting in their depths. "You know, I've been thinking..."

Your heart raced, sensing the weight of his unspoken words. "About what?"

"I uh... nah its stupid," he muttered, shaking his head, looking annoyed with himself

"It isnt stupid Theo, you can tell me, I wont judge you," you smiled softly, giving him a small nod. 

He hesitated, "well its about..." his usual confidence faltering as he looked away, his words carrying a raw vulnerability. "About us... about our friendship."

You swallowed the lump in your throat, your heart beating a frantic rhythm. "What about it?"

"We've been dancing around something," Mattheo confessed, his voice barely above a whisper, "something we've both been too scared to acknowledge."

Your breath hitched, the gravity of the moment sinking in as your gazes met, an unspoken understanding passing between you.

"I've been... feeling things," Mattheo admitted, his voice trembling slightly, "things that I've been too afraid to voice."

Your eyes softened, your vulnerability mirroring his own. "I know. Me too."

Even the cupboard seemed to hold its breath, the weight of your shared revelations hanging in the air. In that moment of quiet confession, the unspoken words that had lingered between you for so long found their voice, weaving a tapestry of emotions that had been hidden away.

With hearts laid bare and emotions laid bare, the unspoken became spoken, and the unacknowledged became understood. Love, so long restrained by the fear of losing a cherished friendship, now flowed freely between you, binding you in a bond deeper than friendship.

Your eyes widened slightly as you felt his arms wrap around your waist, his gaze flickering between your eyes and your lips. "Mattheo..."

Are we moving too fast?

"Can I kiss you?" Mattheo asked softly, a pleading tone in his voice as he anxiously knibbled on the inside of his cheek. His anxiety wasnt soothed as you stared at him with wide eyes, shocked that all of this was actually happening. 

He went to pull away, his cheeks flushing in embarassment, "I uh, you know... joking... just jo-"

You cut him off, pushing your lips against his, catching him by surprise. His eyes widened, his breath getting caught in his throat but he quickly regained composure, pulling you against his chest firmly as he kissed you deeper. 

The two of you pulls away for a second, wide, giddy grins on your faces as you looked into eachothers eyes for a few seconds before leaning forwards again, your lips moulding together perfectly. The kiss became heated, your hands wrapping around his neck and his hands cupping your face, his thumbs rubbing against your skin softly. You stood up on your tippy toes, leaning into him even more. 

You were the first one to pull away, looking up at Mattheo whose eyes remained closed for a few more moments, basking in the taste and feel of your soft lips. You smile widely, his smile matching yours as his eyes flutter open. His left thumb moves from your cheek to your lip, rubbing it softly. 

You look up into his eyes and you see it. 

Love. 

"Kiss me again?" he whispered

"Only if you say please," you joke, leaning forward once more. 

Credit to adiraargent. Please do not copy or repost anywhere. Hope you enjoyed, and feel free to leave a request :p

Wattpad: adira_argent

just friends | m.r. x reader

prompt: Can you do a Mattheo riddle friends to lovers. And Draco asks you out then Mattheo gets jealous and him and Draco have a fight and you help clean all his cuts and stuff? If you can’t that’s fine though ❤️

warnings: mentions of blood, angst, fluff

word count: ~1.5k

a/n: i forgot about the requests i had saved in my google doc so here's one sorry guys.

People thought you and Mattheo being best friends was odd at first. Upon first meeting, people assumed you were quiet and sweet and slow to anger. However when a girl tried to push you around in second year and you landed a hard right hook to her nose, people stopped questioning your friendship and started questioning when you guys were going to start dating. 

You both often played those comments off, saying you were best friends nothing more. Not knowing the other was desperate for the change in relationship status. 

So when Draco asked you to Hogsmead one weekend, you didn’t really have a reason to say no. However when Mattheo found out, he had a less than pleasant response. 

“Are you seriously going with him?” Mattheo was ripping pieces of parchment and throwing them in the fire. You laid across the couch, handing him a new sheet of parchment when he’d finish the other. 

“It’s just Hogsmead, Teo. I’m not betrothed to your cousin,” you tried to sound nonchalant about the whole thing. Mattheo was grumbling in response. 

You sat up on your elbows, “What was that?” Mattheo shook his head, standing up from the floor, “Nothing. Have fun with cousin, tomorrow. Can’t wait to hear all about it.” 

He walked off towards the hall, sounding very much like a stomping toddler and not like he was excited to hear about how your date went tomorrow afternoon. You huffed out an annoyed sigh, deciding to head back to your own dorm. Pansy was sitting atop her bed when you came in and slammed the door behind you. 

“Care to tell the doctor why you’re so peeved?” Pansy sat up at the head of her bed. You groaned, flopping yourself face first on her mattress, mumbling into her duvet. “Come again, dear?” 

You rolled over, staring at the top of her four poster, “Mattheo is being an arsehole.” Pansy couldn’t help but snort, “Tell me something new, Y/n/n.” You groaned again, “He’s never an arse to me, like never ever. Not like he just was. I don’t know what his problem is. Shouldn’t he be happy that my date is at least with someone he knows and likes? I could’ve had a date with Diggory, or even,” you faked a gag, “Potter.” 

Pansy couldn’t help the laugh that emitted from her throat, “I think you’re reaction alone let’s everyone know that the latter would never be an option.” You smiled weakly at her, “Yeah, suppose you’re right.” You sat up now, tucking your feet under you, “I just don’t get what the big deal is. He’s adamant that he and I are just friends, so why get mad when I finally get a date?” 

Pansy looked at you dumbfounded, “Y/n/n, please tell me you’re not that daft.” Your jaw dropped slightly, “What do you mean?” It was Pansy’s turn to groan, “If you can’t see it, I’m not telling you. You’re just going to have to pay more attention.”

You sighed out in annoyance, getting up from her bed and changing into your pyjamas. Pansy dropped the subject, as did you. You laid your head down on your pillow, doing your best to get Mattheo’s judgemental tone out of your mind, which only caused your dreams to be filled with him. 

Your trip to Hogsmead was actually really nice. Draco was a complete gentleman, helping you into and out of the carriage, holding the doors open for you, buying your favorite candies, even buying your lunch and butter beer. 

On the ride back in the carriage, you thanked Draco for a lovely afternoon. He smiled shyly, “Of course, Y/n/n. A beautiful girl like you deserves to be given all the attention and doted on dutifully.” You smiled bashfully, “You’re very kind, Draco.” Draco reached for your hand as you stepped out of the carriage at the doors of the castle. 

You took it, thanking him again as you stepped back to the ground. You opened your mouth to say something when suddenly Draco was ripped from in front of you. You took a shocked step back, trying to focus on the two bodies rolling around on the ground when you noticed it was Mattheo that attacked him. 

Draco and Mattheo were landing blows back and forth. While Mattheo was a few months younger, he was larger, muscular wise than Draco. You worried a bit for Draco, but when he landed an elbow in Mattheo’s ribs, causing him to roll off Draco, the blonde boy stood, walking toward you. 

You opened your mouth to apologize, but Draco cut you off, wiping the blood from his bottom lip, “You two need to sort whatever the fuck you are.” He turned back to look at Mattheo getting up from the ground before turning back to you, “I suggest you take him back to your dorm and clean him up. Have a fucking conversation.” 

You looked back toward Mattheo, who was now looking at the ground. You walked over, grabbing his wrist, “C’mon, Teo. I’ll clean you up.” The walk back to your dorm was silent sans for the sound of both your boots on the corridor floors. When you got to your dorm you led him to the edge of your bed, motioning for him to sit while you got some supplies from the ensuite bathroom. 

When you came back, you opened the first aid kit, grabbing some gauze and soaking it in healing potion. You dabbed the gauze on the bridge of his nose where a fresh cut was now open. Mattheo winced away, “Fucking Salazars dick, Y/n/n, that fucking burns!” 

You grabbed hold of his chin, turning his face toward you again, “Well I wouldn’t even have to do this if you didn’t mindlessly attack Draco. What was that, Teo?” Mattheo avoided your eyes, looking off to the side. 

Your fingers gave his cheeks a gentle squeeze before dabbing his nose again, he winced slightly before meeting your eyes, “You shouldn’t have gone to Hogsmead with him.” You watched as the potion closed the cut on his nose, a pink scar now taking its place. 

You grabbed one of his hands, holding your wand above it, “And why’s that?” Mattheo watched as you waved your wand, quietly muttering a healing spell that closed the cuts over his knuckles leading to fresh scars being formed there, “Because you should have gone with me.” 

Golden brown eyes met yours when you finally looked up, “Teo, we’ve gone to Hogsmead together a bunch of times. Why was this one any different.” Mattheo shook his head, “No, y/n/n, you’re…ugh, you’re not getting it. I don’t want to go with you as your friend. I-I kind of…fancy you.” 

You couldn’t help it when your eyes widened a bit, a small small forming on your face, “You kind of fancy me?” You saw Mattheo’s shoulders physically relax, a smile forming on his lips, “Okay, I really fancy you.” 

You set your wand down on the nightstand before taking a step closer to Mattheo, now fully nestled in between his open legs. “And how long have you really fancied me, Mr. Riddle?” You played with the collar of his t-shirt. You really did love it when Mattheo dressed more casually, you’ll have to tell him. 

Mattheo was feeling more confident now, placing his hands on the backs of your thighs, "Are you gonna hit me if I say a year?" Your eyebrows shot up, "A year? Mattheo Marvelo are you telling me we could've been dating for a year now but you were to wuss to say anything to me?"

At first he opened his mouth to apologize, but his brain quickly made the connections to what your statement alluded, "Y/n Y/m/n, are you saying that you have also fancied me for the last year?"

It was your turn to act reserved, "I mean...yes?" Mattheo's hands on your thighs gave a quick squeeze, causing your to squeal and grab his wrists.

Mattheo smiled at your giggles, now bringing his hands to either side of your face, "Well, looks like we've got lots to make up for, don't we love."

You nodded your head, closing the gap between the two of you, finally allowing your lips to connect with your best friend you've been pining over for the last year

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

𝐅𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐇! ||𝐙𝐎𝐌𝐁𝐈𝐄!𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐎𝐃𝐎𝐑𝐄

Synopsis: accidentally killing one of the most popular Slytherins, you tried to bring him back only for him to not be the same as before.

Inspired by American horror story; Coven

Viewer discretion: brain dead Theo, choking, biting, slight panic attack, Zombie!Theodore not knowing personal space, gore/blood/death mentionss.

MONSTOBER

Shit… shit.. shit…..SHIT! You don’t mean it! You didn’t at all! Your eyes are blown out wide at the dismantled body in front of you. You can’t believe you killed him…You didn’t mean to kill him. Your heart beating loudly in your ears as you fell to your own knees. You slowly felt tears prick your eyes.

You were only practicing your magic. Your own magic. Not Hogwarts, not dark magic. Your own. You didn’t hear Theodore coming from behind you. But it was too late as he startled you into shooting him. Shooting him with the magic that killed him. A pool of blood reaches to you. Scatters of brains sprayed the crisp green grass. You scream backing up, gripping your wrist as a sort of calming gesture. But it’s helping. You kept saying, “it’s not your fault.” But it is, isn’t it? You gotta fix this. You can’t let anyone know that you killed the Theodore Nott. Not a single witness.

Dragging Theodore’s body. It felt sickening. You couldn’t really pick up his damn body. He was taller than you! And with his playing quidditch, he definitely has some pounds on him.

Finally getting to your dorm. You set him on the floor, getting your magic book your folks had gave you so you could practice your own family magic. That’s where you found the spell to bring back the dead. Without hesitation you chanted the words, placing your dominant hand on the bloody chest. The lights flickered in your room, each word you chanted a green and gold aura surrounded you and the dead Slytherin. As the spell ended, you opened your eye and waited it out.

Soon, Theodore stared to groan softly. His normal dead eyes looked..more dead. You gasp shocked. He looked emotionless as he only eyed you in your dorm. His skin was so pale that you started to curse in your mind. Before you knew it, Theodore snapped and attacked you. Gripping your throat with a strong grip, grumbling nothing but mumbles. You clawed at his arm. “Th-theo! Sto-" he suddenly stopped. Loosening his hold on your neck as his eyes looked normal before returning to that dead look. He let go and sat down like a child.

You coughed holding your neck. Getting your breath back. Theo stared at you again. With that dead look that made you shiver. “I…I’m sorry Theo..you must be mad I killed you. But you’re back.” You smiled a weary expression. Theodore tilt his head, clearly confused with his own emotions. Narrowing your eyebrows you slowly moved towards him. Reaching your hand to him, he bit you. “AH! MOTHER FUCKER!” You kicked him at his chest gaining a small groan. “Gr…aughh..” you let out a groan, getting up you checked if the bite was deep only to sigh out of relief. “Fuck…fuck…okay so you don’t really have the normal brain. Fuck me…”

You hissed still holding your bitten hand. Theodore however seemed to be in his own world. His messy brown hair sticking to his forehead after your kick. It seemed he was actually thinking for once as he’d seen you walk back and forth. You were also in your own world. Thinking about how you were gonna talk to the professors about your mess. Or more so your own people. Maybe they can make him more normal? You didn’t seem to realize a tall brooding body behind you. You turned around to only flinch.

He towered over you. Theodore opened his mouth, his lips chapped lips sticked together as he did so. “…Y…Y/N…..” your eyes widened. Backing up with each step, he stepped to you closer. Theodore grabbed your arm, pulling you close to him. “Y…y/n…” you couldn’t believe it…no fucking way. Theodore started to hug you. And you just stood there confused and scared. Was he slowly gaining his memory back? Or was it some sorta of confusion? Connection? Whatever it was. You didn’t know if you liked it or not. As whatever this Theodore was doing, he was making sure you won’t leave his side.

NO BODY, NO CRIME

EPISODE 01: dinner and a glass of wine

pairing: theo nott x potter!reader

summary: the christmas holidays have just begun, but still a threatening atmosphere lies in the air. and you can act, you find yourself at a crime scene

warnings: extremely big trigger warning for the whole series, in this chapter: mentions of blood, a corpse, (small) jump-scare

note: hello guys, welcome to the first episode of no body, no crime!! i’m so excited for this series and hope you enjoy it as much as i do!! the next episode is coming out next monday!! let me know what you think in the comments <333

the soft tunes of christmas music filled the air around you. the great hall was less filled than normal, most of the students deciding to go home for the holidays. 

"can you pass me the potatoes, please?" ron's red hair was illuminated by the soft glow of the fairylights behind him. the auburn sweater he was wearing was highlighting the contrast even more. 

"here" hermione said, holding the bowl across the table, as ron eagerly grabbed it. 

"where's ginny?" harry muttered. he had his nose buried in a book about quidditch techniques you had bought in hogsmeade. he had been busy studying it all night, but apparently not busy enough to not notice ginny's absence. 

"she's sitting with luna" you pointed out, as your eyes glided along the slytherin table. ginny and her had grown closer since the beginning of the year and you had to admit that you had quickly taken a liking to the blonde girl. she was a bit strange, admittedly, but lovely none the less. 

"she's been busy all year" ron muttered, mouth filled to the brim. "seems like we've gotten too boring for her"

"allow your sister to have her own friends" hermione shoke her head. "and for gods sake, please close your mouth, ronald."

despite the approaching festivity, the atmosphere in the hall was eerie. maybe because only a few people were sitting at eachs house table, making the hall seem weirdly out of place. 

the slytherin table was by far the emptiest. probably because most purblooded and traditional wizard families made a hail mary out of everything that would allow a party, showing off their wealth and status. 

the only thing that contradicted this assumption was that several children from the most influential pureblood families had chosen to stay. your gaze swept across the table, taking in each one in turn.

draco malfoy, displaying a usual attitude of displeasurement. you guessed that the malfoy weren't the people to listen to christmas music around the holidays. 

next to him, blaise zabini, who was munching on mouth full portion of potatoes just like ron was. 

across from them and her back facing the rest of the hall, including your line of sight, pansy parkinson, the perfect cut bob of black hair, moving slightly everytime she turned her head to the side, as she attentively listened to what draco was telling her. 

a few feet away, mattheo riddle and lorenzo berkshire were quietly discussing something. it looked somewhat urgent, as both of them leaned over the table top, and not even mattheo, whose face you could see, wore his usual smirk. 

just before you were able to wonder about his absence, you noticed theo nott walk into the hall. he looked just like always, messy curls falling onto his forehead, dark circles under his eyes and that face, that made every thought in your head disappear. 

not that you liked any of them, but theo had always been your favorite. he was a true slytherin. cunning, loyal and determined. even though he had reason enough, there was no arrogant bone in his body. 

you had liked him from the first time you had talked to him last year, when snape had coupled you up for a potions project. he had not even been as pretentious as you had thought he was, considering he was always hanging around with malfoy. 

but theo was nice, actually nice. 

"hello?" ron's voice was so sudden, you knocked over the cup of pumpkin juice beside you. 

hermione cleaned the juice off of the table with a simple flick of her wand, as she rolled her eyes at your distractedness. 

"what?" you wondered. 

"the cookies, please?" ron smiled and your expression turned sour when you noticed the pieces of potatoe stuck between his teeth. 

you nodded nonetheless and grabbed the plate of decorated christmas cookies. you took one for yourself, a delicious looking christmas tree, before you planted the whole plate in front of ron, knowing that he was gonna take one cookie after the other anyway. 

"i think we're good company" harry said, and while you weren't exactly sure what he was talking about, you nodded. 

"obviously we are" 

"i mean, she could've brought luna along, right?" he closed the quidditch book with a thud and crossed his arms. 

"ehh" you muttered. you were saved by the loud sound of the door, that flew open and revealed professor burbage. she walked up to the teachers table in a hurry, quickly excusing her late arrival, before she sat down next to dumbledore. 

you noticed the look of worry on her face and wondered what she was thinking about. 

“what’s gotten into her?” hermione asked and you were glad someone else had noticed the professor’s strange behaviour.

“everyone is stressed around christmas, right?” ron muttered without an ounce of interest. 

“i’m sure that’s it” harry nodded, glad that he could now shift the conversation back to it’s initial topic. “so, about ginny—“

“you’re mentioning her an awful lot, harry” you joked, enjoying how your brother’s face lost all it’s colour and his eyes darted between ron and you quickly. ron hadn’t even noticed the implication, if he had even listened to you in the first place. 

you could read the boredom from the redheads face as he rearranged the cookie plate, until it showed a little scene with a christmas tree, huge presents and two happy gingerbread man. 

you tuned the conversation out too, as harry continued to speak. you decided that it was hermiones turn to listen now. 

you rather turned your head to look at theo once more, who looked up at the very same time, probably feeling eyes on him. but he didn’t look in your direction, but to the teachers table. you furrowed your brows, before you followed his line of sight, your eyes ultimately landing on professor burbage. she looked just as worried as before, as she hectically looked between theo and something clutched in her hand. 

you looked back at theo, who simply rolled his eyes, averting his eyes from the teacher and focusing back on the untouched food beside him. draco muttered something in theo’s direction and the latter, barely reacted, managing only a weak smile, before his focus was gone again. 

you sighed, deciding you had spent enough time with your friends to leave without feeling bad. “i think i’m gonna head to bed” you smiled, standing up.

“oh” hermione simply noted. “should i accompany you?”

you shook your head, “i’ll be fine”. her offer was nice, but you wanted to be alone for some time. it was especially during times like these, that you most missed what other people had: a real family. you still had harry and you friends, but it was different from what you sometimes wished for. 

“i’ll see you guys tomorrow” you waved. ron, mouth filled brim, only waved back to your relief and harry nodded, muttering something about a game of chess ginny had promised. 

you headed out of the hall just a mere second later, pulling your sweater over your head, that you had taken off in the hall, because of the brizzling warmth of the fireplace at your back. you took the usual route to the tower. it was the place you often spend time at whenever you wanted to be alone. 

the stairs creaked loudly beneath each step you took, indicating how old the whole structure was. you walked across the wooden beams, leaning your body across the railing as you breathed in the cold of the air and your eyes wandered across the snow beneath you.

it was so calm up here, so silent.. until. the wood creaked loudly, indicating steps coming up towards you. your heart began beating faster, debating who could be coming up here. you had never ran across someone else at the tower.

maybe it was harry? you stepped closer to the stairs, expecting your brothers dark and messy hair to peak from the entrance, but it wasn’t harry who then stepped onto the plattform across from you.

“hey” theo nott muttered, hands pushed into the pockets of his pants while he looked at you with an unreadable expression on his face. 

“hey” you said, just as neutral. you tried to act casual, as he walked closer and you followed him back to the middle of the plattform, awkwardly standing next to each other. 

theo fished out a cigarette from his pocket. “is this okay?” he asked, poinint between the two of you. 

you furrowed your brows, confused what he was talking about, before you realized that he was probably asking about your permission to keep you company. “sure” you nodded and the lightened his cigarette. 

“you smoke?” he asked, holding the burning cigarette in your direction as if to offer you a blow.

you shoke your head, although you had to admit that he was intruiging to take a drag when a boy with such blue eyes was the one offering it. 

“do you come here often?” you asked softly, deciding it was more awkward to just stare at him in silence. 

“sometimes” theo shrugged. “they get exhausting, my friends i mean”

“yeah, mine too” you nodded. 

“wouldn’t have held you for a person that particuarly likes to be alone” theo muttered, before he turned his head, blowing the smoke out from his lips, without it hitting you. you appreciated the gesture. 

“it gets too much, sometimes” you shrugged. “i don’t mind to be alone”

“then you probably mind my company, huh?” he smirked, looking into your eyes with such sincerity.

“not at all” you shook your head, mirroring the smirk on his lips. “although i would prefer malfoy”

“oh shut up” theo laughed, his eyes glistened, almost surprised at the sudden joke. you felt proud that you had made him laugh, even if you had to mention malfoy for it. 

“i’m so sincere right now” you giggled, both of you not believing a word you were saying. 

theo threw down his cigarette, stomping on it, before he let it disappear with a flick of his wand. he looked up at you and opened his mouth, about to return a witty remark, when a loud bang rang out. 

you both froze at the sound, the laughter abruptly cut off as the echo of the bang bounced off the stone walls. the great hall felt miles away in that moment, and the air thickened with tension. theo’s playful demeanor vanished, replaced by a look of concern.

“what was that?” you whispered, instinctively taking a step closer to him. the sudden shift from light-hearted banter to fear sent a shiver down your spine.

“the door” theo muttered in recognition. the tower was right on top of the entryway to the castle. now that you thought about it, the bang did sound awfully like a heavy door falling close. 

“who would even go out there now?” you wondered, your heart still beating fast as the shock settled into your features.

“i don’t know” theo stepped away and closer to the staircase. “are you coming or what?”

you quickly nodded, as you followed him back down and through the corridor, before you froze in front of the door.

“maybe it was the wind” you suggested, though the tremor in your voice betrayed your uncertainty.

theo raised an eyebrow, a hint of skepticism dancing in his gaze. “you really believe that?” he asked, crossing his arms over his chest, his posture relaxed but his expression alert.

“well, it’s possible,” you replied, though you didn’t sound convinced. the notion felt flimsy in the wake of the unsettling noise, and the creeping feeling of dread wasn’t fading.

“possible, sure,” he replied, “but it sounded too loud for the wind. we need to check it out. it could be something... important.”

your heart raced again, this time from a mix of fear and curiosity. “important? like what?” you asked, biting your lip.

“i don’t know,” he admitted, glancing back at the heavy wooden door. “but don’t you think we should at least look? it might be someone in trouble.”

you hesitated, looking back down the corridor where you could see flickers of light from the torches along the walls. “but what if it’s something dangerous?” you countered, feeling a rush of apprehension.

“better to know than to wonder,” he said, his tone serious yet gentle. there was a spark of determination in his eyes, and you found yourself drawn to his confidence. despite the risk, the thought of turning back felt more frightening than facing whatever lay beyond the door.

theo looked back at you once more, before he sighed and nodded, pushing the heavy door open. what revealed itself was the dark of the night, as snow fell into the entrance you were standing in, quickly cooling your face. 

“it’s too dark” theo noted. both of you took out your wands, using lumos to light the way. theo urged you to follow him. the snow was so heavy, that even the light of your wands did almost nothing. 

theo was just a few steps beside you, when you felt it. “theo” you whispered, as your body and heart froze simultaneously. “theo” you repeated, a bit louder. you could see the light of theo’s wand come closer again. he had heard you. 

“are you alright?” 

you shook your head, what he probably couldn’t see. you could only make out his body. “there is something there” 

“what do you mean?” 

“i’m feeling it against my foot” you muttered. “there is something on the ground. i’ll have to come closer to make out what it is” 

“be careful” theo held you hand to stabilize your body, as you kneeled down, moving the light of your wand across the object on the ground in front of you. it was dark, black robes, hiding something beneath them. but you just couldn’t make out what it was. 

then suddenly, you gasped in shock. your light glided over a face, mouth, nose dripping blood. wide eyes, opened in terror as they stared at you unmoving. you screamed, falling back into the snow, as theo surged forward, trying to catch you. 

“y/n!” he called, panic rising in his voice as you struggled to breathe, your heart racing wildly “what’s wrong? what is it?”

“professor burbage” you muttered, over and over again. 

“what?” theo leaned in closer, still holding onto you, his face drained of color.

“she’s dead!” you choked out, voice trembling, eyes fixed on the professor’s face, still staring up at you, frozen in her final moment of horror.

you heard theo gasp, his own breath faltering for a moment as he processed what lay before you both. without another word, he pulled you to your feet, wrapping an arm around you to support your shaking body. “we have to go,” he muttered, his voice tight with fear. with one hand, he held his wand forward, the dim light flickering in the swirling snow, while the other held onto you as you stumbled back toward the door.

the last thing you saw as the heavy door closed behind you was professor burbage’s body, half-buried in the snow, her lifeless eyes still staring, as if warning you of something far worse to come.

taglist: @melsunshine @shereadsandcries @ch3rry-lips @the-sylver-dragon @mayamonroem @allurearia @prongsprincessworld @brokenpoetliz @winterbarnesblog @mysummerwinesblog @cowboy-luvr @ahead-fullofdreams @mietlynn @maxsisly @too-efn-old-to-be-here @reverse-soe @insideoutjulie @thestrawberrythatgotaway @dvartesgfs