Just Friends | M.r. X Reader

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

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.

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 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.

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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.” 

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