sadnymi - Tumblr blog

[sadnymi]

Lovefool

[Mattheo riddle × reader]

Summary: Being the only girl in the group, and now stuck in the middle of nowhere with them, you found myself in a tricky situation. You had to share rooms, and Mattheo, leaving no room for negotiation, insisted that you would share with him. The problem was, there was only one bed. From uncovering feelings to heartbreak, it was a night you wouldn't forget.

Warning: Smut,Strong language, oral (f!received),Fluff,Angst.

Words:4k.

We arrived in a small, shadowy village. The air was thick with an eerie mist, and the dark, gnarled trees seemed to reach out with twisted branches, making the place feel even more foreboding. It was far from the safety and familiarity of Hogwarts, and I couldn't help but feel a shiver run down my spine as we approached the only inn in sight.

The inn's receptionist, a wizened old wizard with a long, silver beard, looked up from his desk as we entered. "Welcome," he said in a raspy voice. "I'm afraid we only have three rooms available tonight."

I glanced at our group: Mattheo, Theo, Enzo, Draco, Blaise, and myself. Sharing rooms wasn't an issue, but the arrangement was bound to be awkward, especially since I was the only girl.

"Looks like we’ll have to pair up," Theo said.

Glancing at Mattheo, jaw tightened, and I could see the tension in his eyes. He wasn’t comfortable with the idea, and I understood why.

"I can stay with Draco," I suggested, trying to ease the situation.

"No," Mattheo said immediately, his voice firm. "You'll stay with me."

His tone left no room for argument, but I could see the conflict in his eyes. He was trying to balance his protectiveness with his discomfort, and it made my heart ache a little.

"Okay," I said softly, trying to sound reassuring.

We collected our keys and made our way up the creaky staircase. The inn was old, and every step seemed to echo through the halls. When we reached our rooms, the guys exchanged looks, each of them aware of the unspoken tension between Mattheo and me.

"Alright, let's get some rest," Theo said, clapping Mattheo on the shoulder. "We have a long day ahead."

Blaise and Enzo nodded, giving us a final glance before retreating to their own rooms. Draco offered me a small, reassuring smile before disappearing into his room with Theo.

Our room was small and modest, with a single bed , a couch and a worn-out armchair in the corner. I set my bag down, feeling the weight of the situation pressing down on me. Mattheo stood by the door, his shoulders tense, watching me with an unreadable expression.

"I'm sorry if this is uncomfortable for you," I said, breaking the silence.

He shook his head, taking a deep breath. "It's not you," he said, his voice softer now.

I knew Mattheo had problems with sleep, something I shouldn't have known if I wasn't so focused on him. I couldn't help it. I couldn't help watching him and realizing what annoyed him and what didn't, what made him uncomfortable and what made him angry in a minute. It was torture to care so much about someone who had no idea and wouldn’t see me as more than a friend (and that’s if I were lucky).

"I'll take a quick shower," I said. He nodded, and I made my way to the bathroom, grateful for the excuse to escape the tension for a moment. The bathroom wasn’t bad, and all I wanted was some warm water.

When I finished, I changed into my pajamas and stepped out. Mattheo was sitting on the bed, looking at a book. "Pride and Prejudice," I said, smiling nervously. "It's a Muggle author, but I like her works."

He nodded, his eyes softening just a fraction, before heading to the bathroom himself. I settled down on the bed, opening my book and trying to lose myself in the familiar words as I listened to the sound of the water running.

I was so lost in the book that I didn’t notice the water stop. When Mattheo emerged from the bathroom, his hair was damp, and he looked so handsome. I smiled at him, but he didn’t respond, instead heading straight for the drawer.

"What are you doing?" I asked, curious.

He didn’t answer.

"Mattheo, what are you doing?" I repeated, getting out of bed.

He was pulling out extra blankets. "I'm sleeping on the couch," he said bluntly.

"No, the bed is big enough for both of us," I argued.

"I’m not sharing a bed with you," he snapped, his voice harsh.

"Why are you being like this?" I asked, my voice trembling. "I know what you’re trying to do. You’re trying to push me away, but I won’t let you. If you refuse to share the bed, I’ll go see if one of the boys would like to switch rooms."

"You won’t," he said, his eyes narrowing.

"Watch me," I said, holding his gaze.

After a long moment, he sighed heavily. "Fine," he muttered, climbing into bed beside me.

I lay down, trying to ignore the awkward tension between us. "Do you want me to turn the lights off?" I whispered.

He was on his back and without looking at me he just said, "No, keep reading."

I smiled nervously, trying to relax. Sharing a bed with Mattheo felt surreal, and I could see how hard he was trying to keep his distance.

"Do you want to read with me?" I asked, hoping to ease the tension.

He turned to look at me, and I blushed. I started explaining the plot of the book up to the chapter I was reading, nervously detailing Elizabeth Bennet and Mr. Darcy's brooding nature. Mattheo's gaze softened as he listened, his eyes flicking from my lips to my eyes and then to my fingers holding the book, nodding occasionally.

"Here," I said, scooting closer and showing him the page I was on. "I really like Mr. Darcy. He's misunderstood, but he has such depth and integrity."

Mattheo nodded, a small smile tugging at his lips. "Once you’re done reading, let me know to turn the page."

He shook his head. "No, read to me," he said softly.

I blinked, taken aback but then whispered, "Okay."

I continued reading aloud, my voice steadying as I immersed us in the story. When I reached Mr. Darcy's love confession, I felt a lump form in my throat:

"In vain I have struggled. It will not do. My feelings will not be repressed. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you."

I paused, the intensity of the words hanging in the air. Mattheo's eyes were fixed on me, a softness in them that made my heart ache.

"You know," I said, my voice barely above a whisper, "she was in love with him, but she had to turn his proposal down because she couldn't just forget what he did to her family. But can you see the way he just bared his heart out to her?"

Mattheo smiled, watching me closely. "What do you think?" I asked, curious about his thoughts on the characters.

"I think Elizabeth is remarkable," he began, his eyes not leaving mine. "She’s strong and brave, even when faced with someone like Darcy. She sees the best in people but isn’t afraid to stand up for herself. She’s... unforgettable."

His words struck a chord deep within me, and I realized he wasn’t just talking about Elizabeth. My heart fluttered at the thought.

"Unforgettable?" I repeated, my voice almost a whisper.

"Yes," he said softly. "Someone who can see the truth about people, even when they try to hide it. Someone who isn’t easily swayed by first impressions, who digs deeper and finds the good, even when it’s buried under layers of pride and prejudice."

My breath caught, and for a moment, I was lost in his gaze. It felt like he was seeing right through me, seeing the parts of me that I tried to keep hidden.

"Do you think... do you think Darcy deserves her?" I asked, my voice trembling slightly.

Mattheo's eyes softened even more. "Yes, I do. Because despite his faults, he’s willing to change. He’s willing to be better for her. And that kind of love... it’s rare."

My heart ached with the weight of his words, and I couldn't help but wonder if he was speaking from his own heart.

I recalled a moment from the past, a moment of clarity and pain when he had dismissed the idea of love entirely.

"You said you don’t believe in love once," I said, avoiding his gaze. I still remembered the day he said those words, the hurt I felt, the realization that he probably would never return my feelings.

"Do you?" he asked instead of answering my question.

"I do," I said, my voice firm. "I have so much love in my heart. That’s how I know love exists."

We were so close now, our faces just inches away. His eyes searched mine, and then he reached out, gently pushing a strand of hair from my face. Nervousness bubbled up inside me, and I blurted out, "Did you know that the light from the stars we see has traveled for millions of years to reach us?"

He chuckled softly. "Are you nervous?" he asked, his tone gentle.

I nodded, biting my lip.

"You don’t have to be," he said, his fingers brushing my cheek softly. My heart was beating fast, my chest rising and falling with each breath.

"Relax, my love," he murmured.

I nodded again, trying to calm myself. "What do you love about Mr. Darcy?" he asked, his eyes locked on mine.

"He loves deeply and passionately," I said. "He’s willing to change for the person he loves, to be better. He’s flawed, but his love is unwavering."

"Sounds like you’re quite taken with Mr. Darcy," Mattheo said, a hint of jealousy in his voice.

I smiled softly. "He’s just a character in a book, Mattheo."

His fingers trailed down to my lips, brushing them gently. "Every time you talk, I just want to kiss those lips." he murmured.

Before I could respond, he leaned in, his lips meeting mine in a soft, tender kiss. His hand cradled my face gently, as if I were something precious and fragile. When he pulled back, I opened my eyes, searching his for any sign of regret.

He leaned in again, this time kissing me longer, his lips moving against mine in a perfect rhythm. His tongue brushed against my lips, and I parted them, allowing him to deepen the kiss. A soft moan escaped me as the kiss intensified, our breaths mingling, our bodies drawing closer together.

When he finally pulled back, he placed soft kisses on my lips, whispering, "Am I your first kiss?"

I nodded, my cheeks burning with a mixture of embarrassment and joy.

"Good," he said, a smile playing on his lips before he kissed me again, and again, and again.

His kisses moved slowly down to my neck, each one more intoxicating than the last. "Your skin is so soft," he murmured against my neck. "And you smell so good."

I gasped as his lips found a sensitive spot, my body arching into him. His hands roamed over my body, cupping my breast through my shirt. His fingers brushed against my nipple, and I couldn't help but arch my back and let out a small gasp.

He smiled against my neck, sucking gently. "So sensitive, baby," he whispered, his voice low and teasing.

I was lost in his touch, his smell, his lips. My hand instinctively moved to his, which was still cupping my breast. He kissed his way back up to my lips, his breath warm against my skin.

"What is it, my love?" he asked, his lips brushing against mine.

I was too embarrassed to speak, my cheeks burning. "Just tell me what you want. Anything, and I’ll give it to you," he said, cupping my face gently.

I bit my lip, feeling shy and unsure. His eyes searched mine, full of understanding and patience. "Talk to me. Tell me if you want to stop," he urged softly.

"No," I blurted out quickly, then blushed even more. He smiled, his eyes twinkling with amusement and tenderness.

"So, what is it you want?" he asked, his voice a soft caress.

I looked at him, begging him to understand me without having to say it. He leaned in closer, his forehead resting against mine. "Don’t be shy now, baby," he whispered.

"I... I don't know how to say it," I admitted, my voice barely audible.

"Then show me," he said, his hands gently guiding mine.

I placed my hand on his, urging him to touch me more, to explore further. His eyes darkened with desire as he understood my silent plea. "You want more?" he asked, his voice husky.

I nodded, unable to form words. His lips found mine again, more insistent this time, his tongue exploring my mouth. His hand moved under my shirt, his fingers brushing against my bare skin, sending shivers down my spine.

"You’re so beautiful," he murmured, his lips trailing down my neck again. "So perfect."

I moaned softly as his hand cupped my breast again, this time without any fabric between us. His thumb brushed against my nipple, and I gasped, arching into his touch.

"Does that feel good?" he asked, his voice a low rumble against my skin.

"Yes," I breathed, my body trembling with need.

“Good,”He smiled, his lips trailing kisses down my chest. "I want to make you feel good," he said, his hand moving lower, exploring every inch of my skin.

I was lost in a haze of pleasure, my mind unable to focus on anything but his touch, his words, his presence. "Please," I whispered, not even sure what I was asking for, just needing more of him.

"Please what, my love?" he asked, his fingers teasing the edge of my waistband.

"Just... more," I managed to say, my voice shaking with desire.

He chuckled softly, his fingers slipping under the fabric. "As you wish," he said, his touch sending waves of pleasure through me.

I moaned, my body arching into his hand. "Mattheo," I whispered, my voice trembling.

He kissed me again, his lips claiming mine with a fierce passion. "I’ve got you," he whispered against my lips. "Just let go. I’ll take care of you."

I moaned, my body arching into his hand. "Mattheo," I whispered, my voice trembling.

He kissed me again, his lips claiming mine with a fierce passion. "I’ve got you," he whispered against my lips. "Just let go. I’ll take care of you."

He lifted my shirt over my head, slowly trailing kisses down my chest. His mouth found my nipple, and he sucked gently while his hand teased the other. I gasped, my fingers tangling in his hair as he kissed his way down my stomach. He looked up at me, and I nodded, giving him silent permission. He pulled my shorts down, leaving me in just my panties.

He kissed his way back up, pausing to murmur, "You have a birthmark here," his fingers brushing the spot on my hip, "and a few moles here, here, and here," he continued, placing gentle kisses on each one.

I smiled widely, touched by his attention to detail. I reached out to touch his face, then pulled him into a hug, hiding my face in his neck. He held me close, his hands rubbing soothing circles on my back.

"Can I touch you?" he asked softly, his breath warm against my ear.

"Yes, please," I whispered.

He started to circle his fingers over my panties, feeling how wet I was already. My breath came in heavy pants as he touched me. "Relax, my love," he murmured, his voice a calming balm. I nodded, trying to calm my racing heart.

He slipped his hand inside my panties, and I shivered when his fingers found my clit. "Is that okay?" he asked, watching my reaction closely.

"Yes," I breathed, my body trembling under his touch. "It's more than okay."

He circled my clit with gentle precision, building the pressure slowly. Then, he carefully slid one finger inside me. "Just one. You can take it," he said soothingly.

I nodded, gasping as he entered me. He kissed me again, whispering, "Good girl."

I started to moan, my hands gripping his shoulders for support as he continued to pleasure me. He placed tender kisses all over my face, his finger moving inside me while his thumb pressed against my clit. The sensation was overwhelming, and I felt the tension building rapidly.

My body arched against the bed, and I screamed as the orgasm crashed over me, shivering in his arms. "Fucking hell, this is the most beautiful thing I've seen," he said, his voice full of awe as he pulled his finger out of me and put it in his mouth.

I opened my mouth, breathing heavily, still riding the waves of pleasure. He leaned down, his lips brushing against my ear. "Can I taste you?" he asked, his voice thick with desire.

"Yes," I whispered, my body trembling with anticipation.

He kissed his way down my body again, his hands gently spreading my thighs apart. His eyes met mine, and the intensity of his gaze made my heart race. As he lowered his mouth to me, I felt a surge of nervous excitement.

The first touch of his tongue against my clit made me gasp, my hands flying to his hair. He moved slowly, his tongue circling and teasing, driving me wild with need. I moaned his name, my hips bucking against his mouth.

"Relax, my love," he murmured between kisses, his hands holding my hips firmly.

I tried to relax, letting the pleasure wash over me as he continued to work his magic. His tongue found a rhythm that had me writhing beneath him, my fingers gripping his hair. He was relentless, his mouth and tongue bringing me to the brink over and over again.

"Mattheo," I moaned, my voice a breathless whisper. "Please, don't stop."

He didn't stop, his tongue moving faster, more insistent. I felt the tension building again, stronger this time, and I knew I was close. My moans grew louder, my body arching off the bed as the orgasm hit me like a tidal wave.

I cried out his name, my entire body shaking with the force of it. He held me through it, his tongue and fingers never stopping until I was completely spent, lying boneless on the bed.

He didn't stop, his tongue still moving in slow, deliberate strokes. "Just one more," he said, his voice rough . "Give me one more."

I shuddered, my body still trembling from the first two orgasms. "I can't," I whispered, but he was relentless, his tongue and fingers working together to build the pleasure back up.

"You can," he insisted, his eyes locked on mine, his fingers sliding inside me as he continued to lick and suck my clit. "You can," his voice a low rumble. "And you will."

I couldn't help but moan, the sensation of his fingers and tongue working together to bring me to the edge once again. "Oh, god," I gasped, my hips bucking against him.

"That's it," he murmured, his voice a soft whisper against my skin. "So beautiful so responsible."

I couldn't hold back any longer, my body trembling with pleasure as my orgasm washed over me, my cries echoing through the room.

He finally lifted his head, his lips glistening with my juices. "You're so fucking beautiful when you cum ," he said, his voice a low growl.

I could feel my heart racing, my body still trembling from the aftershocks of my orgasm. "Mattheo," I whispered, my voice barely audible.

He kissed me, and I could taste myself on his lips. The intimacy of it made my heart swell. He pulled back, his eyes searching mine. "Let me take care of you," he said softly.

He got up and grabbed a cloth, wetting it with warm water. He gently cleaned me, his touch tender and reassuring. When he was done, he handed me a glass of water. "Drink," he said, his voice gentle but firm.

I took a few sips, feeling the cool liquid soothe my parched throat. He lay down next to me, pulling me into his arms. I rested my head on his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart.

"Do you think someone heard me?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

"Yeah," he said with a smirk. "Let them."

I looked up at him, pouting. He kissed the words I was about to say away, his lips warm and comforting. When he pulled back, he said, "You'd be so blind if you didn't notice that Blaise and Draco have a crush on you."

"No, they don't," I said, shaking my head.

"Believe me, they do," he insisted, his eyes serious.

I hugged him again, exhausted, and held his hand. "I know you have trouble sleeping," I said softly. "Here, hold my hand."

The smile on his face faltered, but he held my hand tightly and kissed it. "Now you're going to sleep well," I said, resting my head on his chest.

I couldn't fight the exhaustion any longer and let myself drift off to sleep, feeling safe and content in his arms.

I woke up the next morning with a smile on my face, but it quickly dropped when I found the bed empty. Sitting up, I clutched the blanket to my bare chest, looking around the room frantically. There was no sign of Mattheo. My heart pounded as anxiety began to take over.

Did he regret it? Did he leave? Did I do something wrong?

Tears pricked my eyes as I fought to calm myself down. I forced myself to get up, feeling how weak my legs had become, and made my way to the bathroom. It was empty too. The loneliness hit me like a tidal wave, and I couldn't hold back the tears any longer.

After a shower, I dressed and headed downstairs, where I found the boys except Mattheo and Theo sitting together. I sat next to Enzo and Blaise, trying desperately not to ask about Mattheo.

Blaise noticed something immediately. "What's that on your neck?" he asked.

"What?" I replied, my voice strained.

"You have a fucking hickey on your neck, Darling," he said.

"No, I don't," I said quickly, trying to brush it off.

"You do," he insisted.

"Leave her alone, Blaise," Enzo said. I could feel Draco's eyes on me too, scrutinizing.

Unable to handle their stares, I got up and went to the bathroom. Looking in the mirror, I saw it—several purple and red marks on my neck. I quickly pulled out my hairpin, letting my hair down to hide the evidence.

Trying to walk back with some semblance of dignity, I nearly ran into Mattheo.

"Hi," I said, trying to sound normal.

"Hi," he replied, avoiding my eyes. The awkwardness was palpable, and I felt a wave of humiliation wash over me. I glanced at Theo, who was talking quietly with Mattheo, and then hurried back to my room. I couldn't face any of the boys after this.

I spent the entire afternoon in the room, trying to make sense of everything. When Enzo came to tell me we were leaving, I nodded and grabbed my bag, following him downstairs. As we approached the others, I heard Blaise talking to Theo, his voice loud and angry.

"You know Mattheo loves to fuck them thenleave them, Theo. But she's not just anyone. He fucking ruined it. He'll do to her what he's best at—destroying."

Theo tried to defend him. "It's not like that, Blaise."

Blaise cut him off. "You know she likes him. And you know damn well it meant nothing to him. Just another fuck."

I looked at Enzo, who tried to step in and stop them, but I shook my head, gripping his arm. "It's okay," I said softly.

Blaise continued, "He should have never done that."

I slipped out, making sure they didn't notice me or realize I had heard them. "You okay?" Enzo asked, concern etched on his face.

I nodded, forcing a smile. "Yeah, don't worry."

"Listen, Blaise doesn't mean—" Enzo began, but I cut him off.

"It's okay, really, Enzo."

I saw Mattheo standing next to the van Theo had gotten for us. I stepped to the very back, choosing a seat as far away from him as possible. He looked confused for a second but didn't say anything. The rest of the boys climbed in, and I felt the crushing weight of my heartbreak.

Just last night, I thought I owned the whole world, and now I felt like it was so small that I couldn't breathe.

As the van started moving, I stared out the window, the landscape blurring as tears welled up in my eyes. I tried to keep it together, but the pain was overwhelming. Every word Blaise had said echoed in my mind, making my chest ache with each beat of my heart.

I had opened myself up completely to Mattheo, and now it felt like he had torn me apart. The thought of facing him, of seeing his face and knowing how little I meant to him, made me want to disappear.

Enzo kept giving me worried glances, and even Draco seemed to be watching me with an unusual intensity. But I couldn't bring myself to care. I felt broken, and no amount of concern or sympathy could fix that.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

Part-Two (soon)

[sadnymi]

⋆˙⟡ 📹 ♡ Your camera roll while dating Mattheo⋆˙⟡ 📹 ♡

[sadnymi]

Compass

[Mattheo riddle × reader]

Summary: mattheo told you not to go to this party but you didn’t listen.

Warnings: angst - sexual assault - hurt comfort- fluff.

Words:3.5k

Regret gnawed at me like a Dementor, sucking the joy out of the throbbing bass that pulsed through the club. "Just a thirty minutes," I muttered under my breath, a hollow promise I already knew I was breaking. Stepping into the dimly lit nightclub, guilt coiled in my stomach like a rogue Niffler.

Lying to Mattheo, even for a small white lie, felt like a betrayal. It wasn't like he was controlling; he'd never been that kind of boyfriend. This was different. This was about safety. This side of the city was a lawless labyrinth, a haven for cutthroat gangsters and creatures that'd make even a Boggart flinch. Dark magic here felt like a child's tea party compared to the real horrors that lurked in the shadows.

Mattheo had been adamantly clear: "There's no way you're going, Y/N. This isn't some harmless bar crawl. This place is rotten to the core."

He wasn't exaggerating. Esteban, a notorious thug with a reputation even lord Dracula wouldn't touch, ran this side of town. Let’s just say Mattheo nearly killed him last year.

Jenna, my oldest friend, was celebrating her birthday. Tradition dictated that we spend it together, Hogwarts alumni or not. But this year, her boyfriend's place was the only option, and his affiliations made Mattheo uneasy. Unfortunately, what he called “work” with Theo and Enzo across the country kept him tied up. Lucky me, right?

The guilt intensified. Mattheo wouldn't have cared about a night in, but Jenna wouldn't budge on the location. "This place has the best Gobstones court in the city," she'd insisted over the Floo network, her voice tinged with annoyance.

"Easy for you to say," I'd grumbled, wishing I could confide in her about the real reason for my hesitation.

So, here I was, a liar and a lousy girlfriend. An hour ago, my phone buzzed with Mattheo's nightly call. Claiming to be already tucked in bed. He'd chuckled, that deep, comforting sound that always calmed my nerves. "Sleep well, love," he'd said. "Can't wait to see you tomorrow."

The memory of his voice made me wince. I was the worst. Reaching for my phone, I considered a quick Floo call, an apology on the tip of my tongue. But the pulsating music and the throng of sweaty bodies pressed in around me, making the prospect of navigating the fireplace network feel overwhelming.

With a resigned sigh, I plunged deeper into the club. The air was thick with the scent of spilled Butterbeer and something considerably stronger. Glancing around, I searched for Jenna's fiery red hair amongst the dancing crowd. Spotting her at a corner booth, relief washed over me, momentarily pushing aside the fear gnawing at my insides.

"Hey! You made it!" Jenna exclaimed, pulling me into a hug.

"Yeah, I did," I said, trying to keep the unease out of my voice. "Happy birthday, Jenna."

"Thank you! I’m so glad you’re here. Come on, let’s get you a drink!"

I nodded, following her to the bar. As Jenna ordered our drinks, I glanced around nervously, half-expecting to see Esteban or one of his goons lurking in the shadows.

"Everything okay?" Jenna asked, handing me a drink.

"Yeah, just... tired, I guess," I lied, taking a sip. "So, how’s your night been?"

"It’s been great! But seriously, are you okay? You seem a bit off."

I sighed, deciding to come clean at least partially. "I just... Mattheo didn’t want me to come here tonight. He’s worried about this part of the city."

Jenna frowned. "I get it. But you’re with us, and we’ll make sure you’re safe. Plus, we’ll only stay for a little while. I promise."

"Thanks, Jenna," I said, feeling slightly reassured but still on edge.

As the night wore on, I tried to relax and enjoy myself. Jenna and our friends were having a great time, and I didn’t want to ruin it for them. But every time the door opened or a shadow moved, my heart raced.

Just as I was beginning to feel like I might get through the night unscathed, I felt a hand on my shoulder. I turned around, my heart leaping into my throat.

"Well, well, look who decided to show up in my territory," a familiar voice drawled.

I looked up to see Esteban, a smirk plastered on his face. "Esteban," I said, trying to keep my voice steady. "I’m just here for a friend’s birthday. I don’t want any trouble."

"Trouble? Who said anything about trouble?" he replied, leaning in closer. "But you know, your boyfriend might see it differently."

"Stay away from me, Esteban," I said, trying to back away.

"Or what?" he taunted. "Your precious Mattheo isn’t here to protect you."

My phone couldn’t stop ringing, and I was freaking out. I tried to get away from the music as much as I could, but Esteban followed me. I glanced at the screen and saw Mattheo’s name flashing. My hands trembled as I answered.

"Hey," I said, trying to sound normal.

"Where are you?" Mattheo’s voice was sharp, and I could hear the tension in it.

"I... I’m just out with friends," I said, my voice trembling.

"Which friends? And where?" he demanded.

I hesitated, glancing at Esteban, who was watching me with amusement. "At a club," I admitted. "In the city."

"I told you not to go there," Mattheo said, his voice low and dangerous.

"Mattheo, please listen, it’s just—" I tried to explain, but he cut me off.

"You fucking lied to me," he snarled. I heard a car door slam hard on his end, and then the line went dead.

I closed my eyes, trying to calm down, but I couldn’t. I had lied to him, and it hurt so much to know that I had let him down. I turned around, intending to apologize to Jenna and then leave.

"Leaving so soon? But the party’s just getting started," Esteban said, stepping in front of me and blocking my path.

"Get out of my way," I said, my voice trembling with anger and fear.

He grabbed my arm, his grip painfully tight. "See this scar on my face?" he sneered, leaning in so close that I could see the thin white line running down his cheek. "Your boyfriend did this. See this, gorgeous?" His fingers dug into my skin, making me wince.

I tried to pull away, but he held me firmly. "It was because of you. Because I was eye-fucking this night," he said, his voice low and menacing.

My eyes widened in shock. I had no idea. "Esteban, let go of me," I said, trying to free myself.

He tightened his grip, pulling me closer. "And what a great way to take revenge, don’t you think?" he hissed. "By taking you right here, right now."

"Let go of me!" I shouted, panic rising in my chest.

He ignored me, his eyes dark and predatory. "Imagine it," he said, his voice dripping with malice. "I’ll take you, and there’s nothing you can do about it. I will leave nothing for him to pick I’ll make you scream my name, make you beg for mercy."

"Stop it! Let me go!" I cried, struggling against his hold.

He laughed, a cruel, mocking sound. "You’re all alone, sweetheart. And I’m going to enjoy every second of it."

Mattheo appeared out of nowhere, grabbing Esteban by the collar and shoving him against the wall. "I told you before, if you get near her, you're dead, didn’t I ?" Mattheo snarled.

Esteban smirked, though his eyes showed fear.

Mattheo didn’t release him. Instead, he pulled back his fist and hit Esteban so hard that I heard the sickening crack of bone against bone. Blood spattered, and Esteban crumpled, barely conscious.

Jenna’s boyfriend and then Theo and Enzo rushed in, pulling Esteban from Mattheo’s grip. "Not now, Mattheo. That’s enough. We’ll deal with him later," Theo said firmly.

Mattheo’s eyes were wild, but he didn’t stop until Theo’s words sank in. He turned to leave. When he looked at me, his eyes were cold, and he looked away as if he couldn’t even bear to see me.

"I’m sorry, Mattheo, I—" I started to say, but he was already walking out. He gave Enzo a curt nod, silently instructing him to stay with me.

Enzo stepped closer, placing a gentle hand on my arm. "Are you okay?" he asked softly, his eyes scanning my face for any sign of injury.

"It’s all my fault," I whispered, tears welling up.

"No, Y/N. No, it wasn’t your fault. What he did is not your fault," Enzo said firmly.

"I lied to Mattheo. I shouldn’t have done that," I admitted, my voice breaking.

"Yes, you shouldn’t have," Enzo agreed, "but that doesn’t mean you deserved what happened. And believe me, what happened to him tonight is nothing compared to what Mattheo will do to that fucker later."

I started to cry, my body shaking with sobs. "I was only going to stay for thirty minutes. I swear. I called him, and he said he was coming tomorrow."

Enzo sighed. "Yeah, he wanted to surprise you. Yesterday, you were so upset, so he planned to leave early and be with you. But when he got home and you weren’t there, and you didn’t answer your phone... He called Theo and me, and, well, you know the rest."

We stepped outside, and Enzo walked me to Mattheo’s car. Mattheo was talking with Theo, his expression hard. When he noticed me, he opened the car door and got inside without a word.

I side-hugged Enzo, who gave me a reassuring smile. Theo placed a hand on my shoulder, his eyes sympathetic. "Take care," he said quietly.

I got into Mattheo’s car, my heart heavy with guilt and fear. As we drove in silence, I couldn’t help but think about how I had betrayed his trust. I knew it would take a long time to make things right, but I was determined to do whatever it took to earn his forgiveness.

The silence in the car was unbearable. I glanced at Mattheo, his jaw clenched, eyes fixed on the road ahead. The tension between us was palpable, thick enough to cut with a knife. I knew I had to say something, anything to break this horrible silence.

"Mattheo," I began, my voice barely above a whisper. He didn't react, his grip on the steering wheel tightening. "Mattheo, please, say something."

He remained silent, his eyes never leaving the road. I felt a lump forming in my throat, my eyes stinging with unshed tears. "I know I deserve this. I know I deserve for you to be mad at me, but please, Mattheo, I'm begging you, say something."

Still nothing. The car seemed to swallow my words, the only sound the hum of the engine and the occasional passing car. I took a deep breath, trying to steady my voice.

"I'm so sorry, Mattheo. I know I shouldn't have gone. I shouldn't have lied to you. I just... I didn't want to let Jenna down. I thought I could handle it." My voice cracked, and I had to swallow back a sob. "I was wrong. I know that now."

I reached out, my hand trembling as I touched his arm. He flinched slightly but didn't pull away. "Please, Mattheo, just talk to me. Yell at me if you need to, but don't shut me out."

His silence was killing me. Each second that passed felt like an eternity. I could see the conflict in his eyes, the anger and hurt battling within him.

"Please, Mattheo, I know I messed up. I know I let you down. But I love you. I love you so much, and I can't stand this silence. Please, just say something."

His knuckles were white from gripping the steering wheel so tightly. I saw his jaw work, as if he was struggling to keep his emotions in check.

"I don't know what else to say," I whispered, my voice breaking. "I deserve for you to be angry. I deserve for you to hate me. But please, please don't shut me out. I can't bear it."

"Please, Mattheo, I know I messed up. I know I let you down. But I love you. I love you so much, and I can't stand this silence. Please, just say something."

The entire ride was filled with my desperate apologies and his chilling silence. I kept calling his name, hoping for a response, but he remained unyielding. "I’m so sorry," I kept saying. "Please, just talk to me."

The ride wasn’t long, and before I knew it, we arrived at the house. He parked the car and got out swiftly, not sparing me a single glance. My heart pounded as he walked around to my side and opened the door for me, still silent. I followed him inside, my footsteps echoing in the quiet night.

"Mattheo," I said softly as we entered the house. "Please, can we talk?"

He ignored me, his eyes forward, his expression unreadable. I saw the blood on his knuckles from where he had hit Esteban. The sight made my stomach churn with guilt and worry.

I reached out to touch his hand, but he pulled away sharply, not allowing me to make contact. "Mattheo, your hand," I said, my voice quivering. "Let me help you."

He continued to ignore me, and that’s when I broke down completely. The sobs wracked my body, and I sank to the floor, covering my face with my hands. "I’m so sorry," I cried. "I know I messed up. I know I did. But please, Mattheo, don’t shut me out. I need you. I need to make this right."

He stood there for a moment, his back to me, before he finally walked away, leaving me alone in the hallway. The sound of his footsteps faded, and I felt an overwhelming sense of loss.

I knew I had hurt him deeply, and the realization was almost too much to bear. All I wanted was to take back my mistakes and show him how much I regretted my actions.

Alone with my regret, I stumbled towards our room, a hollow shell consumed by despair. The stench of Esteban, cloying and repulsive, still clung to me – a foul reminder of my stupidity. I needed to wash it away, scrub the memory of his touch from my skin.

The hot water cascaded down, scalding but strangely comforting. I lathered soap with desperate fervor, scrubbing my arms, my face, anywhere that Esteban's vile contact had dared to linger. Tears mingled with the suds, a salty testament to my foolishness.

Emerging from the shower, cleansed but still raw, I wrapped myself in one of Mattheo's oversized shirts. Its familiar scent, offered a sliver of solace. Stepping out, I scanned the room, my heart sinking into my stomach. Empty.

Mattheo wasn't there. Panic clawed at my throat as I raced downstairs, the silence of the house amplifying my anxieties. Then, through the open kitchen door, I saw him.

He stood by the counter, a half-empty glass of water in his hand. His face, usually etched with amusement or affection, was now a mask of stoic anger.

Taking a deep breath, I approached him, my voice barely a whisper. "You're… not coming to bed?"

He glanced at me, his steely gaze as sharp as a Gringotts goblin's dagger. "I'll sleep at the guest room," was all he said, his voice flat and emotionless.

The words hit me like a Stunning Spell. "No," I blurted out, tears welling up again. I pushed them back fiercely, frustration warring with despair. "Mattheo, please. I…"

"You… you will do that?" I managed. I wanted to scream, to shout that I wouldn't let him sleep in the guest room, that I needed to feel his warmth beside me, a shield against the storm of guilt raging inside.

But the words wouldn't come. The fear of pushing him further, of losing him completely, choked them back.

"Is that what you want?" I managed, my voice a mere tremor.

He didn't answer, only looked down at me, the anger still simmering in his eyes. I saw a flicker of pain there too, a reflection of the hurt I'd inflicted.

A single, choked sob escaped my lips. Defeated, I nodded, a silent surrender to his unspoken punishment. "If that's what you want," I whispered, the words tasting like ashes in my mouth.

He turned without another word,towards the guest room, leaving me alone in the cold embrace of the kitchen.

I lay in bed, my eyes closed tightly as tears streamed down my face. Sleep was impossible. Every time I tried to drift off, Esteban's smirk and his disgusting words would flash through my mind, making me shudder. I hugged myself, clutching Mattheo’s pillow for comfort, but it did little to soothe the turmoil inside me.

I couldn’t stop seeing Esteban’s face, hearing his voice, and the more I tried to push it away, the more vivid it became. My mind was a battlefield, and I was losing. I shifted restlessly, trying to find some semblance of peace, when something brushed against my hand. It was just a pillow, but in my heightened state, it startled me.

I screamed, bolting upright and scrambling to the end of the bed. In my panic, I knocked over the bottle of water on the nightstand, and it shattered on the floor with a loud crash. My sobs grew louder as I curled up, trembling uncontrollably.

The door burst open, and Mattheo rushed in. "Y/N! What happened?" he asked, his voice filled with worry as he hurried to my side. He knelt beside the bed, his hands gently touching my shoulders. "Hey, look at me," he said softly. "It's okay, I'm here."

I was crying too hard to respond, my breaths coming in short, panicked gasps. Mattheo cupped my face in his hands, his eyes searching mine. "Breathe with me, okay? In and out, slowly."

I tried to follow his lead, focusing on his steady breathing. His presence was a lifeline, grounding me in the moment. Slowly, my breathing began to even out, though my tears still flowed freely.

Pulling back slightly, Mattheo kept his hands on my shoulders, his eyes searching mine. "What happened?" he asked gently. "Did you have a nightmare?"

"I… I thought I saw something," I mumbled, my voice barely a whisper. Shame burned in my throat, acrid and suffocating.

Mattheo scanned the room, his gaze lingering on the shattered glass before returning to me.

"There's nothing here, love," he said softly, his voice a soothing balm. "Except you and me. And I'm not going anywhere."

"I was scared, Mattheo. When Esteban grabbed me, I thought... I thought he was going to... and all I could think about was you. How much I needed you, how much I regretted not listening to you." The tears were falling freely now, but I didn't care.

Mattheo's grip on you tightened, a fierce possessiveness coloring his features. The anger that had simmered earlier was replaced by a raw protectiveness that sent shivers down your spine.

"Hey, hey," he soothed, his voice rough with emotion. "Look at me, love."

He gently tilted your chin up, wiping away a stray tear with his thumb.

"He won't ever touch you again," he growled, the words a low rumble that sent a tremor through you. "No one will ever hurt you not when I'm alive, not ever. You're safe now, my love. I've got you."

But the fear still lingered, a cold serpent coiling around my heart. Taking a shaky breath, I reached out, my hand trembling as it touched his arm. "Mattheo," I choked out, the word thick with unshed tears. "Please… don't sleep in the guest room."

The plea ripped from my lips, raw and desperate. Tears welled up again, blurring my vision. Mattheo's eyes softened, he didn't hesitate. In a swift movement, he was beside me on the bed, pulling me into his embrace. His arms wrapped around me like a protective shield, his warmth a comforting presence against the chill of fear.

Tears streamed down my face, soaking the front of his shirt. A torrent of apologies tumbled out, each word laced with guilt and regret. "I'm so sorry, Mattheo. I messed up. I lied. I shouldn't have gone. I…" My voice cracked, the words dissolving into choked sobs.

He held me tighter, his touch a silent reassurance. "Shh," he murmured again. "It's okay. You don't have to say anything."

"I don't want to break your trust," I confessed, burying my face in his chest.

A chuckle, warm and rough, vibrated against my cheek. "You never will, love. This isn't about trust. It's about your safety, baby. I can't let anything happen to you."

"But I don't want to break your trust," I insisted, pulling back slightly to look at him.

He cupped my face in his hands, his thumbs gently wiping away the fresh tears that streamed down my cheeks. Then, he leaned down, his lips brushing mine in a soft, chaste kiss.

"You didn't break my trust," he murmured against my lips. "You never will. And I…" He hesitated for a moment, his eyes searching mine. "I'm the one who should be apologizing. For shutting you out, for making you feel like you couldn't tell me the truth."

"No," I whispered. "You were right. It was dangerous. I shouldn't have gone."

He shook his head, a wry smile gracing his lips. "Maybe not. But I should have listened to you. You shouldn't have had to lie."

He shifted, pulling me closer until I was nestled against his chest, his arms wrapped tightly around me. His lips brushed over my forehead, then trailed down to my cheek, leaving a trail of warm kisses in their wake.

"No one will ever hurt you again," he whispered fiercely, his voice a vow against the darkness. "I promise."

His fingers gently working their way through my tangled hair. It was a comforting rhythm, a silent promise of safety amidst the turmoil within me.

"Sleep now, love," he whispered, his voice a warm current against your ear. "I will be there when you wake up." He pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, the gesture as light as a butterfly's landing.

I snuggled deeper into him. "Promise?" i mumbled, the exhaustion finally catching up with me.

He chuckled softly, a low rumble that vibrated through his chest. "Always,"

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

[sadnymi]

How the Slytherin Boys would react to the "can you buy me pads" message p2:

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

Tom Riddle:

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

Regulus Black:

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

Draco Malfoy:

[sadnymi]

Hiii!!

Omg is it actually your Birthday?!

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, LOVE!! 🥹🤍🫶🏻✨

I hope you have a great day!! Now you can say "I don't know about you, but I'm feeling 22" 👀✨

That's really Great, especially as a Swiftie! 🤍🤍

As it's your birthday, All the Slytherin boys will be cuddling with you 🥹🥹

And well they got a big present for you 🤭

They're gonna make an Unforgettable night for you!! 👀✨

Happy Birthday again!! 🤍🫶🏻

GIRLLLLL YOU ARE SO SWEET

Thank you so much for your kind words and for your support I love you 💗🫶🏻

[sadnymi]

Gemini and infj? That’s sexy af ngl

giggling blushing and kicking my feet

[sadnymi]

Happy birthday girl I love your writing and your blog so much you’re incredibly talented like really talented I read almost everything you wrote and I keep checking daily waiting for you to drop a new one happy birthday again I really really wish you a wonderful year

That’s really the sweetest thing I’ve read 🥹 thank u so much I’m so so happy to hear that thank you for your sweet words 💗

[sadnymi]

OMG HAPPY BIRTHDAY LOVEEEE , ARE YOU FEELING 22 ?

Thank u so much sweetie 🩵AND YES IM FEELING 22 it feels amazing ( I was freaking out like 22 it’s really getting serious)

[sadnymi]

Hi baby I want to say that I’m absolutely obsessed with your account , I want to say the way you write Lorenzo!!! Omg I’m obsessed please write more for him 😫😫🫶🏻

Thankkk i so much that’s so sweet and don’t worry there’s a lot for Enzo coming on the way 💗

[sadnymi]

hiiii I just wanted to say that I love your writing so much 🩵🩵

Thank you so much I’m glad you liked them 💗

[sadnymi]

Officially 22 so time to change this

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

[sadnymi]

Your favorite boy

[Lorenzo Berkshire× famous!reader]

Summary: When Lorenzo finds himself in competition with your puppy for the title of your favorite boy.

Words:0.5k

For my birthday, Lorenzo surprised me with the most adorable puppy. From the moment I laid eyes on the little furball, I was smitten. The puppy, whom I named Max, quickly became my shadow, following me everywhere and curling up on my chest whenever I sat down to watch movies.

One evening, Lorenzo and I were tangled up on the couch, making out passionately. His hands roamed over my body. Just as things were about to get even more intense, Max barked loudly from the other room.

I pulled away from Lorenzo, my heart racing for an entirely different reason now. "Hold on," I said breathlessly, getting up to see what was wrong with Max. Lorenzo groaned in frustration as I rushed to my puppy's side, finding him pawing at his empty food bowl.

Lorenzo followed me into the kitchen, leaning against the doorframe with a scowl. "I swear he’s always doing this on purpose," he muttered, eyeing Max with a mix of annoyance and jealousy.

I filled Max's bowl, patting his head as he happily dug in. "He's just a baby," I said, smiling as I stood up. "And he's hungry."

He crossed his arms, his eyes narrowing. "Yeah, well, I'm hungry too," he said, his voice dropping to a whisper as he stepped closer to me. "Hungry for you." He pulled me into his arms again, his lips brushing against my ear. "And I don't like sharing."

I giggled, wrapping my arms around his neck. "Are you seriously jealous of a puppy?"

He raised an eyebrow, looking down at Max who had now finished eating and was watching us with curious eyes. "He's stealing all your attention," he said, half-serious. "I mean, I'm your boyfriend, not him."

I laughed, pulling back slightly to look at him. "Well, you're just going to have to learn to get along." I kissed his cheek, then bent down to pick up Max, holding him between us. "Come on, he's adorable. How can you resist this face?"

Lorenzo sighed dramatically but couldn't help the smile that tugged at his lips. "Fine," he grumbled, reaching out to scratch Max behind the ears. "But I'm not sharing the bed."

I laughed, hugging them both tightly. "Deal. But you have to promise to give him a chance."

Lorenzo rolled his eyes playfully but nodded. "Alright, alright. But if he interrupts us one more time..." He left the threat hanging, though the twinkle in his eye told me he was mostly joking.

Later that night, as we settled back on the couch to watch a movie, Max snuggled up on my chest, his little body rising and falling with each breath. Lorenzo wrapped an arm around my shoulders, pulling me closer.

"You know," he said quietly, his lips brushing against my temple, "I never thought I'd be competing with a puppy for your attention."

I smiled, resting my head on his shoulder. "Well, you don't have to compete. You both have my heart."

He looked down at me, his expression softening. "Yeah, well, just remember that I’m still your favorite boy."

I laughed. "Don't worry, baby. You always will."

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

[sadnymi]

Shakespeare

[Mattheo riddle × reader]

Summary:Your obsession with Shakespeare is driving mattheo insane. And now he found himself jealous of fictional characters and a long-dead playwright.

Words:0.5k

Sitting in the Slytherin common room, the fire crackling in the hearth, I watched as a couple of students began to argue near the portrait of Salazar Slytherin. As their voices rose, I felt Mattheo's arm tighten around my shoulders. He always had a protective streak, especially when tensions flared.

Suddenly, I couldn't help myself. "The lady doth protest too much, methinks," I quoted, my voice cutting through the noise. The room fell silent for a moment, and all eyes turned to me.

Mattheo chuckled softly, shaking his head. "Another Shakespeare quote, darling?"

I grinned up at him, unable to resist. "What can I say? He just knew how to capture the essence of human nature."

"Great, another Shakespearean monologue. Can't you save that for class?" Pansy said.

“I wish my horse had the speed of your tongue.”

Mattheo rolled his eyes but there was a hint of amusement in them. "You know, sometimes I think you're more in love with Shakespeare than with me."

I leaned closer, my lips brushing his ear. "You jealous of a dead playwright, Mattheo?"

He smirked, his hand slipping down to my waist. "Only when you quote him more than you kiss me."

A few days later, we were in the library, studying for our Potions exam. As usual, the silence was only broken by the rustling of pages and the occasional whisper. I was immersed in "Hamlet" when a scuffle broke out between two Ravenclaws over a disputed study spot.

 “Better a witty fool than a foolish wit.” I couldn't resist quoting, earning a few chuckles from nearby students.

Mattheo groaned, pulling my book down. "Really? Again with the Shakespeare?"

I giggled. "What? It's fitting."

He leaned in, his breath hot against my ear. "You know what else is fitting? My cock inside you."

My cheeks flushed, looking around to make sure nobody heard. "Mattheo, we're in the library."

He grinned wickedly. "Doesn't mean I can't make you wet just by talking."

The rest of the day was a blur as we were now lying on the couch in the dark empty Slytherin common room, his fingers tracing idle patterns on my skin. I had "Romeo and Juliet" open on my lap, reading aloud one of my favorite passages.

"Give me my Romeo; and, when he shall die, take him and cut him out in little stars, and he will make the face of heaven so fine that all the world will be in love with night and pay no worship to the garish sun."

Mattheo's eyes darkened with something primal. "You know, I don't like you quoting other men, even if they're fictional."

I laughed softly. "You're jealous of Romeo now?"

He kissed my neck, nipping lightly. "I don't want to share you with anyone, even if they're just words on a page."

I closed the book and turned to straddle him, feeling his growing hardness beneath me. "You have nothing to worry about, Mattheo. You're my Romeo."

His hands gripped my hips, pulling me down to grind against him. "Damn right I am. Now, why don't you show me how much you love me, Juliet?"

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

[sadnymi]

「 ✦ Loml ✦ 」

[Mattheo riddle × reader] [TTPD Masterlist]

Summary: You and Mattheo share a legendary love, the kind that makes you leave everything behind without regrets—your life, your friends, even your family. You're dead to them now, because how dare you be with the son of Voldemort? Everything seemed perfect until last night, when Mattheo didn't come home. When he finally did, you knew something terrible was about to happen.

Warnings: Angst , Angst , Angst ( you have been warned), smut , unprotected sex, strong language.

Words:4k

Mattheo didn’t come home last night, and I was losing my mind, worried sick about him. The hours dragged on, each minute a relentless torture of anxiety and fear. I couldn't shake the feeling that something was terribly wrong. Every creak of the house made my heart leap with hope, only to be disappointed each time. Where was he? What had happened?

It was well past midnight when I finally heard the front door creak open. my heart leaped into my throat. Relief washed over me, followed swiftly by a wave of emotions—anger, concern, love. Before I could say anything, he was there, his lips crashing onto mine in a desperate, hungry kiss.

“Mattheo,” I whispered against his mouth, but he silenced me with another kiss, more demanding this time. His hands roamed my body, pulling me closer as if he needed to reassure himself that I was real, that I was here.

"Mattheo, what's going on?" I tried to ask, but he silenced me with another fierce kiss, his fingers gripping my hips tightly.

"Mattheo," I whispered, cupping his cheek. "Talk to me. What's wrong?"

He shook his head slightly, his expression pained but determined. "Just let me have this." he said softly, his voice cracking.

I nodded and opened my mouth trying to ask him what was bothering him but my words were cut off as he bent me over, his fingers curling around the waistband of my pants, yanking them down. His breath was hot against my neck

He thrust into me hard and fast, the intensity of his movements leaving me breathless. I could tell something was off, but the way he was taking me left no room for questions. He was usually vocal, but now, he was almost eerily silent, his focus solely on the act itself.

“Did something happen baby?” I managed to gasp out between thrusts, my hands gripping the sheets.

He didn’t answer, just increased his pace, the sound of our bodies colliding filling the room. The roughness of his touch, the ferocity of his rhythm—it was as if he was trying to drown out whatever was haunting him.

I could feel my orgasm building, the pressure inside me reaching a breaking point. “Mattheo, I’m gonna—”

My scream echoed through the room as I came, my body trembling with the force of it. He followed moments later, his release silent but powerful, his grip on me tightening as he shuddered against my back.

He pulled out and turned me around, lifting me onto the bed with a gentleness that contrasted sharply with the roughness from before. His eyes were dark, filled with something I couldn’t quite place.

He kissed me softly, trailing down my body until his mouth was between my thighs. He licked and sucked, his tongue working magic as he brought me to another orgasm, my cries of pleasure mingling with his soft kisses.

When he was done, he moved back up, his lips brushing against every inch of my skin, his hands caressing me as if committing every curve to memory. He entered me again, this time slow and gentle, his eyes locked onto mine.

He held my face in his hands, his thumbs brushing away the tears that had formed. “I love you,” he whispered, his voice barely audible.

“I love you too,” I replied, my heart aching with the intensity of my feelings.

He moved within me with deliberate slowness, each thrust a silent promise. I wrapped my arms around him, clinging to him as if he might disappear at any moment. We reached our climax together, the wave of pleasure washing over us in perfect sync.

“Are you okay?” I asked softly when we were done, my head resting on his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. He didn’t answer, just held me tighter, his arms a protective cocoon around me. There was something in his silence, something heavy and unspoken.

“Mattheo,” I whispered again, but he simply kissed my forehead, his lips lingering there for a moment longer than usual.

I wanted to push, to demand answers, but exhaustion overtook me. I fell asleep in his arms, my last conscious thought a prayer that whatever was haunting him, we would face it together.

The next morning, I woke up to find the space beside me empty. My heart sank, the unease from the night before creeping back in. I slipped out of bed and padded across the room, spotting Mattheo on the balcony. He was leaning against the railing, a cigarette in his hand, the early morning light casting a soft glow on his features.

I walked up to him, pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek. "Good morning," I murmured, wrapping my arms around him from behind and resting my head on his back. He didn't respond, just took another drag of his cigarette, the smoke curling upwards into the crisp air.

"Mattheo," I started, my voice tentative, "please talk to me. What's going on?"

Silence.

I tightened my arms around him slightly, trying to convey my concern and love through the embrace. "You were so distant last night. You scared me. I need to know what's bothering you."

Still, no answer.

"Is it something I did? Something that happened? Please, Mattheo, just tell me. We can face it together."

He remained quiet, staring out into the distance, his body tense against mine.

"Mattheo, please don't shut me out."

He took another slow drag, exhaling the smoke with a sigh, but said nothing. I could feel the wall between us, thicker than ever, and it broke my heart.

"Do you not trust me?" I asked, my voice cracking with emotion. "You said you love me, and I believe you. But if you don't let me in, how can fix whatever is bothering you now?"

He flicked the cigarette butt over the railing, watching it fall before finally turning to face me. His eyes were dark, filled with a turmoil I couldn't decipher. I reached up to touch his face, but he caught my hand, holding it tightly in his own.

His grip on my hand was firm as he turned away from the balcony, leading us back into the room. He sank into the couch. I stood there, watching him, my heart aching with the weight of his silence.

Memories flooded my mind, moments that defined us, that showcased the depth of our connection. I remembered the first time I saw him, standing in the shadows of Hogwarts' library. His eyes, dark and intense, met mine and I felt an inexplicable pull towards him. Despite his infamous last name, there was something in him that I couldn't ignore.

The wizarding world saw him in two extremes: as a legacy of power or as a monster. To me, he was neither. He was Mattheo, the boy who found solace in the pages of old books, who laughed freely with me by the Black Lake, and who kissed me tenderly in hidden corridors.

I remembered the night we decided to leave it all behind. The weight of his family's name haunted him, the expectations and fears others placed on him were suffocating. We chose love over legacy, escaping to a place where he wasn't seen as the heir to a dark throne, but simply as a man in love.

I remembered the first time he had said, **"You're the love of my life,"** when we were just kids. His words had been simple, but they had held a promise that resonated through the years and since then he won’t stop to remind me of it every chance he gets. We left the grandeur of wizarding society for a small, quiet life in the countryside. It was a decision that felt right, a decision I'd make a million times over without regret.

I moved to sit beside him on the couch. "Hey," I said softly, trying to catch his eye. "Baby, please, what is bothering you?"

He remained a statue, his body rigid, his gaze fixed on a spot on the floor far beyond me. It was like staring into a stranger's eyes, devoid of the warmth and affection that used to light them up whenever he looked at me.

"Okay," I tried again, my voice cracking under the strain. "So... what about we go to that place you like tonight?Remember, we were talking about—"

"We are not going anywhere," he cut me off, his voice flat, devoid of any emotion. It sent a fresh wave of ice crashing through my veins.

Panic clawed at my throat. "Okay, we can stay home," I stammered, desperately searching for anything to break the suffocating silence, "make some ________ "

He stood up abruptly, his movement so sudden it startled me. My breath hitched in my throat as his towering figure loomed over me. The playful glint in his eyes, the one that used to make my heart skip a beat, was replaced with a cold,hard glint of something far more sinister.

The words died in my mouth when I saw the look on his face. It was a mix of anger, frustration, and something else I couldn't quite place – a flicker of regret, maybe? But it was quickly overshadowed by the other emotions, leaving a bitter taste in my mouth.

"Don't you get it?" he spat, his voice laced with a bitterness I'd never heard before. "This was never supposed to be serious. It was fun, a distraction, but nothing more."

My breath hitched. Distraction?

"But... but I..." I stammered, the words catching in my throat.

"You what, Y/N?" He scoffed, the sound harsh and unforgiving. "Did you think being with me was some grand fairytale? You know who I am, Y/N. There's a legacy to uphold, a family to consider. Did you think you, with your… your ordinary life, could ever fit into that?"

His words, each one laced with disdain, ripped through me like a knife. Ordinary. Was that all I was to him?

"But…" I stammered, my voice choked with unshed tears. "We… we built a beautiful life together. We talked about our future we__"

He scoffed, a harsh, humorless sound. "Future? Y/N, you left your life for me. Your family, your friends, everything. Did you really think I'd just abandon everything I have, my legacy, for… for you?"

"I… I never asked you to abandon anything," I whispered, tears blurring my vision. My voice was barely audible, a broken plea lost in the suffocating silence of the room.

"But you did," he countered, his voice growing colder with every word. "You disrupted the plan. You made me question everything."

"But I love you," I whispered, the words fragile and broken. "I gave up everything for you."

His answer was a cruel laugh. "Love? Don't be ridiculous. You were just young and naive, Y/N. You thought escaping your family drama meant finding some happily ever after. This isn't some storybook”

The pain was a physical entity now, a vise tightening around my chest, squeezing the air out of my lungs.

"Did you ever loved me, Mattheo? Or was it just another lie?" I asked, my voice barely a whisper. The question hung heavy in the air, a desperate plea for a shred of hope in the midst of this crushing despair.

He met my gaze, his eyes devoid of warmth, devoid of anything resembling the love I had seen reflected there countless times before. "No," he said, the word sharp and final. "I liked you, Y/N. I enjoyed the… distraction. But this? This isn't love."

I looked up at him, searching his eyes for a flicker of the warmth we once shared. I sank onto the couch, my tears falling uncontrollably.

He took a step back, his eyes holding a flicker of something that looked suspiciously like guilt. But it was quickly replaced by a cold indifference that sent a fresh wave of pain crashing over me.

"I'll leave," he said, his voice devoid of emotion. "You can stay here."

He grabbed his phone and keys from the coffee table, his movements mechanical, devoid of the warmth that used to characterize even his most mundane actions.

I sat there, numb, watching him walk towards the door. The sound of the door slamming shut echoed in the room, each reverberation a physical blow to my heart. It was then, as the final echo died down, that the dam broke.

A sob escaped my lips, a raw, primal sound that tore through the silence. I crumpled onto the couch, my body racked with sobs. The pain felt like a physical entity, a crushing weight in my chest, stealing my breath and blurring the world around me.

We almost had it all. Almost.

The space beside me in the bed remained stubbornly empty, a constant reminder of the gaping hole Mattheo's absence had ripped in my life. The night after he left, I lay there, a hollow shell staring at the ceiling. My body ached with a dull throb,the aftermath of the storm that had raged within me. Sleep was a distant dream, replaced by a relentless torrent of tears that threatened to drown me.

Days blurred into one another. I became a prisoner in my own apartment, trapped in the agonizing limbo of grief. Getting out of bed felt like a herculean task, the simple act of breathing a burden. Time stretched before me, an endless expanse of grey, devoid of colour or joy.

The silence in the apartment was deafening, broken only by the occasional choked sob that escaped my lips. The remnants of our life together mocked me - a half-finished puzzle on the coffee table, his abandoned toothbrush in the bathroom, the scent of his cologne that clung stubbornly to his favourite armchair.

Grief twisted within me, manifesting in a kaleidoscope of emotions. Rage surged through me in hot waves, followed by crushing despair that left me weak and breathless. I'd scream into pillows, the sound muffled and distorted, a hollow echo of the pain tearing at me.

In a fit of blind fury, I hurled a picture frame across the room, the glass shattering into a million pieces on impact. The sound was almost satisfying, a momentary release from the suffocating silence within. But even the destruction brought no solace. The room, once a symbol of our love, now mirrored the fractured state of my heart.

Exhaustion eventually claimed me, pulling me into a restless sleep. Dreams offered no solace, only a cruel twist of reality.I dreamt of Mattheo, his eyes filled with regret, his lips brushing against mine as he whispered apologies, promises that he didn't mean it, that he loved me.

Then, with a jolt, I woke up. The stark reality of the empty bed, the chilling silence, slammed back into me. It was a dream, a cruel mirage in the desert of my grief. Tears welled up again, hot and stinging, as the realization settled in - he wasn't coming back.

The sting of the hot water had done little to soothe the raw ache in my chest. Stepping out of the shower, I wrapped myself in a towel, the reflection in the mirror a stranger staring back. My eyes, once sparkling with life, were bloodshot and puffy from days of relentless crying. My skin, usually vibrant with a healthy glow, was pale and drawn. I barely recognized myself.

Back in the bedroom, the emptiness hit me with renewed force. Each creak of the floorboard, each tick of the clock echoed the hollowness within. My gaze fell on a crumpled piece of paper lying innocuously on my bed. A surge of confusion washed over me. I hadn't placed anything there.

Frantic, I searched the room, the silence broken only by the ragged gasps escaping my lips. There was no one here; Mattheo was gone. A bitter laugh escaped me, the irony laced with a fresh wave of tears. He'd warned me – never trust anyone. But where was he now, the one person I'd trusted with my entire heart?

Picking up the paper, I unfolded it, hands trembling. The words scrawled across the page were written in an ancient language, one I recognized from my dusty spellbooks. But what caught my eye was the line at the top – "From a friend." A friend? In the wreckage of my world, the concept felt alien.

The spell itself was simple, its purpose clear – to numb the pain. It promised a temporary reprieve from the agonizing ache that threatened to consume me. But a tiny voice whispered a warning deep within. Magic always came with a price and this spell must be forbidden for a reason.

Tears blurred my vision as I stared at the parchment. What was the worst that could happen?

Numbness. That's what I craved. It seemed like a small price to pay when compared to the excruciating pain that gnawed at my very core. Didn't I deserve some peace, even if it was temporary?

With a shaky hand, I reached for my wand. The familiar weight in my palm felt foreign, a stark reminder of the life I used to lead – a life filled with laughter, love, and magic. Now, it held the potential for oblivion, a desperate escape from the unbearable reality.

Taking a deep breath, I whispered the incantation, the ancient words tasting bitter on my tongue. A faint blue light emanated from the tip of my wand, engulfing me in a cool embrace. For a moment, there was nothing – no pain, no sorrow, just an emotionless void.

The first few days were a blur. I spent them curled up in bed, staring listlessly at the ceiling, the world fading into a muted backdrop. The spell wore off after a few hours, but the return of pain was a stronger than ever. So, I cast it again.

Then again.

And again.

What started as an occasional escape became a daily ritual. The once faint blue light became a familiar glow, casting an eerie light on my deteriorating world. Soon, once a day wasn't enough. Twice became the norm, then three, then a constant hum of magic thrummed in the air around me, a desperate attempt to outrun the pain.

A metallic tang filled my mouth, jolting me awake. Blood. My nose was bleeding, a crimson stain blooming down the front of my nightgown. Panic clawed at my throat, a sharp contrast to the dull ache that had become my constant companion.

This wasn't normal. The numbness, the shield I had built around my heart, it was slipping. The raw, agonizing grief threatened to consume me once more. But the familiar blue light, once my solace, refused to respond. My wand trembled in my hand, the incantation stumbling on my tongue, the ancient words feeling foreign and hollow.

A strange dizziness washed over me, the room tilting at an alarming angle. My vision blurred, the edges of the room dissolving into swirling colors. A wave of nausea hit me, bile rising in my throat. This wasn't just the pain returning; this was something different, something terrifyingly new.

My body, once numb to all sensation, ignited in protest. A dull ache that had become my baseline morphed into a searing pain that radiated from my core. My limbs grew heavy, a strange tingling sensation creeping up my extremities. My heart hammered against my ribs, a frantic drumbeat echoing the fear coursing through me.

Tears, long forgotten, welled up in my eyes, blurring my vision even further. I stumbled out of bed, my legs shaky and uncoordinated. The world swam before me, the once-familiar room morphing into a maze of threatening shadows.

The next day dawned, bringing no relief. The symptoms, once a terrifying novelty, became a relentless onslaught. My body wracked with chills one moment, then burning with an internal fever the next. Blood, not just from my nose but also from my mouth, stained everything I touched, a grotesque reminder of my deteriorating state.

Weakness, crippling and pervasive, enveloped me. As I tried to rise from my bed, the world tilted violently, and my vision swam with black spots. A scream ripped from my throat, a scream, desperate plea for help that echoed unanswered in the empty apartment.

Then, darkness threatened to consume me. I felt myself falling, the floor rushing up to meet me. But just before the sweet oblivion of unconsciousness claimed me, a strong pair of hands gripped my body, arresting my fall.

Disoriented and delirious, I blinked, my vision blurry. Through the haze, a familiar face materialized.

"Y/N?Can you hear me love?" A voice, urgent and laced with panic, called my name. It sounded distant, muffled, as if filtered through water. But the warmth of the hand holding me, the metallic scent of my blood staining his fingers, these were real.

This wasn't a dream. It was him.

"What have you done, love?" Mattheo's voice, ragged with worry, reached me through the haze of pain engulfing my body. I wanted to answer, to tell him everything, but the words wouldn't form. The pain that had been a constant ache in my heart had become a monstrous beast clawing at every inch of me.

"It hurt so much," I managed to gasp, tears mixing with the blood trickling down my nose.

His hands were gentle but firm, cradling me, wiping away the blood and the tears with a tenderness that brought a flicker of warmth to the icy grip of fear that had taken hold. "I know, baby, I know," he murmured, desperation lacing his voice. "Just tell me, please, what have you done?"

"I just wanted it to stop," I rasped, pointing weakly at my heart, its every beat a thrumming ache. “ it hurt so much.”

My gaze drifted beyond his shoulder, and a flicker of disbelief sparked through the fog clouding my mind. There, in the doorway, stood the man whose name had only been whispered in hushed tones – the man who controlled Mattheo's destiny, his father.

"He… he's back?" My voice was a rasp, barely audible, the metallic tang of blood filling my mouth.

"Shh, love, don't try to talk," Mattheo soothed, his grip tightening protectively around me.

"What have you done to her?" He turned to his father, his voice sharp as a knife.

"Just showed her a way to numb the pain," the man replied with chilling indifference. In that moment, the fear I felt transcended human comprehension.

He looked exactly like the villains from my childhood fairytales, the embodiment of pure evil.

So this was the reason behind the shift in Mattheo, the darkness that had threatened to consume him.

Fear clawed at me, but I managed to reach for Mattheo's hand, finding strength in his warm touch. His other hand stroking my hair grounded me.

"Don't be afraid, love," he murmured into my hair.

"It wasn't the deal!" Mattheo said, his voice laced with a fury I'd never witnessed before. "I told you I would leave her, I would leave everything, but you just had to leave her out of it!"

"I'm helping you, child," the man said, his voice devoid of emotion. "You pushed her away, but you love her. That cannot happen. You need to get rid of your weakness."

"Shut up!" Mattheo snarled, his eyes blazing. "Shut the fuck up. You leave her out of this!"

I choked on a fresh wave of blood, the world spinning wildly. This was too much, far too much. A terrible realization dawned on me – I was dying.

But at least I was dying in Mattheo's arms, and in that moment, I knew he didn't mean the cruel words he'd spoken. He was just trying to protect me.

"You're not dying," Mattheo whispered fiercely, as if reading my mind. "You're not dying, baby. I won't allow it."

"It's okay," I rasped, my voice barely audible.

"It's not!" he argued, his voice thick with desperation. I reached out, my trembling hand finding his. He squeezed it back, his touch a beacon of strength in the storm.

"Can you say it like you used to ? can you tell me that you love me?" My voice was barely a whisper. "I want to hear you say it one last time."

"No, because you are not dying," he insisted, turning his blazing gaze back to his father. "Save her, do something and save her or I swear, I won't just leave you. I will make sure to ruin you, ruin everything you built, kill you for good this time."

Another cough, another surge of blood. My vision blurred at the edges.

"Mattheo," I whispered, my voice weak but determined.

He looked down at me, his face etched with agony. "You're not dying," he repeated, his voice a desperate plea.

"Look at me, love," he pleaded, his voice cracking. "Keep your eyes on me. Keep those beautiful eyes on me, baby."

With a final surge of strength, I mustered a smile. "I love you," I whispered. "I love you so much."

He cupped my face, his thumb brushing away a stray tear. "You're the love of my life, and I love you more than life itself," he declared, his voice thick with emotion.

A weak smile touched my lips. Before darkness threatened to claim me, a single thought brought a sliver of peace. He loved me. That was all that mattered.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

Do you think she will survive? 🙄

[sadnymi]

How the Slytherin Boys would react to the "can you buy me pads" message p1:

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ───

Mattheo Riddle:

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ───

Theodore Nott

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ───

Lorenzo Berkshire

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ───

Blaise Zabini

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

[sadnymi]

I'm an actual slut for your lorenzo fics

Hehehe love to hear that thank u for reading them 🫣💗

[sadnymi]

「 ✦ imgonnagetyouback ✦ 」

[Theodore Nott × reader] [TTPD Masterlist]

Summary: Theo broke up with you unexpectedly, walking away like it meant nothing to him. It sucks, right? So when your friends say "fuck Theodore Nott," you might take it way too seriously.

Warning: smut, strong language , exs to enemies to lovers.

Words:3.7k

Is this what heartbreak looks like? Because if so, it's a potent mix of anger and mascara. My reflection stared back – a woman scorned, yes, but a scorchingly beautiful one. The lilac skirt I'd chosen clung to every curve, a blatant lie against the hollowness inside. Each stroke of eyeliner was a war cry, each curl a defiant plume.

Heartless," they used to call me. A thousand times, a thousand cuts. Yet here it was, this fragile, throbbing thing in my chest, mangled and raw.

Downstairs, the wizard I vaguely remembered setting up this date with stood awkwardly by the door. Daniel, or David… something with a D. 

"You look… incredible," he stammered, his eyes widening a touch too much. Please, Merlin, don't let him kiss my hand. Thankfully, he didn't.

The drive to the club was a blur of forced conversation and strained pleasantries. The city lights, usually a source of comfort, seemed to mock me with their indifferent twinkle.

The club throbbed with a bassline that mirrored the erratic rhythm of my heart. As we entered, my eyes caught a flash of chrome. 

Parked by the entrance, gleaming under the dim lights, was a motorcycle so familiar it stole my breath. Theo's motorcycle. A primal urge, a flicker of crimson rage, wanted to smash it to pieces, a physical manifestation of the hurt that festered inside. I pushed it down, a cold, hard knot of anger settling in its place.

The club pulsed with a rhythmic heartbeat as we entered.It was a warzone of flashing lights and bodies swaying in a hypnotic rhythm. A stray thought flickered – maybe I should have just gone to Madam Malkin's and destroyed something fabulous. Retail therapy for a broken heart, what could go wrong?

But pushing past the velvet rope, the music slammed into me like a physical wave, washing away the bitterness. My friends, a kaleidoscope of brightly colored dresses and mischievous grins, waved me over.

I plastered on a smile, my gaze searching for him. And there he was, Theodore Nott, with his hand casually resting on the waist of a girl draped across him like a silken scarf. It should have felt freeing, We weren't together anymore. He wasn't mine to claim. But the primal urge to possess, to break things, threatened to consume me. I squeezed my eyes shut, forcing the destructive thoughts away.

He didn't see me, not yet. But I saw him, saw everything. The way he leaned in, the way his lips brushed cheek… my nails dug into my palms, drawing crescent moons on my skin. I was a fool, a lovesick fool, for pretending anything else mattered.

A wave of red-hot fury threatened to engulf me. He could break up with me, that was fine. But seeing him touch another girl so soon? It was like a fresh wound ripped open.

Theodore Nott. Ex-something, whatever. He didn't define me. "Let's have a drink," I said, my voice a touch too steady.

my friend whispered in my ear, concern etched across her face. "Y/n, are you okay? I swear I didn't know he'd be here?"

I plastered on a smile, my heart pounding a frantic rhythm against my ribs. "Oh, it's totally fine, don't worry about it," I lied.

She raised an eyebrow, unconvinced. "Sure?"

"Very sure," I said through gritted teeth. "There's nothing I hate in this world more than Theodore Nott, and letting him ruin my night is the last thing I want to happen."

My date, Dave grabbed my hand, leading me towards the bar.

Suddenly, a prickling sensation on the back of my neck. I knew it before I even looked. Theodore's gaze, hot and heavy, was fixed on me.

With a mischievous glint in my eye, I leaned into Dave's ear, "You look amazing tonight," I said, my lips brushing against his skin, just enough to make Theo see. Dave smiled, his hand sliding to the small of my back, pulling me closer.

Dave's hands were everywhere, moving from my waist to my hips and then, without warning, smashing my ass.

"Alright, that's enough, asshole. Don't fucking touch me again until I tell you," I snapped, pulling away from him. He flinched back, looking startled.

"Okay, sorry," he muttered, looking sheepish.

"Now smile," I commanded, and he did—or tried to, at least. It was more of a grimace, but I didn't have time to correct him.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Theo making his way toward us. "Now put your hands on my waist," I told Dave. He complied, though it looked more like a monkey holding onto a tree than a boyfriend holding his girl.

"Y/n," Theo said, his voice dripping with that infuriating mix of confidence and amusement.

"Oh, Theodore, hi," I replied, making sure to use his full name with exaggerated politeness.

"That's Dave," I added, gesturing to the boy who had, up until now, been trying his best to look nonchalant. Dave flinched again.

"My name is actually—" Dave started to say something, but I cut him off with a forced smile.

"Yes, what he said," I said, keeping my smile plastered on my face, trying not to scream in frustration. Theo smirked, clearly enjoying my discomfort.

I shot Dave—or whatever his name was—a look. "Okay, I'm gonna see our friends, baby, okay?" he said. Baby? Our friends? Who the hell leaves their girl with her ex-boyfriend? I tried very hard not to hex him.

Theo watched Dave walk away before turning back to me with that infuriating smirk still on his face. "Nice choice of company, Y/n. He seems... delightful."

I rolled my eyes. "At least he knows how to show up," I retorted, crossing my arms.

He stepped closer, the space between us crackling with tension. "So, this is what you’ve downgraded to?" he taunted, his eyes burning into mine.

"I wouldn’t call it a downgrade, Theodore," I shot back, the venom in my voice barely concealed.

"Really? Because he looks like he’s about to run for his life," Theo sneered, his lips curling into a mocking grin.

"What are you really doing here Theo?" I said, my tone sharp.

"Well, someone’s got to keep an eye on you," he replied, his voice equally biting.

"You must be really bored then," I retorted, crossing my arms over my chest.

"I've got better things to do, but seeing you make a fool of yourself is too entertaining to pass up," he shot back.

"Oh, please. You can fool anyone else but me, I think you are here because you can’t stay away- you still want me," I said, my voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Yeah? And what makes you think that?" he said, stepping closer, the tension between us palpable.

"Because you’re still here, aren’t you?" I whispered, my voice low and taunting. "I can see it in your eyes."

"Funny, I was about to say the same thing about you," he retorted, his breath warm against my skin.

"Oh, honey," I said, mimicking his tone, "I think we both know that's a lie."

"You never could resist a challenge, could you?" he asked, his eyes searching mine.

"And you never could admit when you were wrong," I replied, my heart aching even as I held his gaze.

"And I see you're still making questionable choices," he shot back, his eyes darkening with intensity.

"Really? Like what?" I challenged, stepping closer.

"Like bringing a boy to do a man's job," he said, glancing at the retreating form of Dave.

Just then, a girl appeared out of nowhere, wrapping her arms around Theo and kissing his cheek. "Come on, baby, I want to dance," she purred.

Dance? Theo doesn't dance. I wanted to scream that at her, but instead, I watched as he smirked at me and took her hand, leading her away.

The sight of him walking away with her made my blood boil. It wasn't supposed to hurt this much, but it did. I stood there, seething, watching the two of them disappear into the crowd.

I stormed over to my friends, my blood boiling and my heart pounding. As I reached them, they turned to look at me with concern.

"I hate him," I blurted out, throwing my hands up in the air. "I hate him so much!"

They exchanged glances before one of them dared to ask, "What happened?"

"What happened?" I echoed, my voice rising. "I'll tell you what happened! Theodore freaking Nott happened! I mean, who does he think he is? Just waltzing in here like he owns the place, smirking at me, and then dancing with that... that girl!" I fumed, pacing back and forth.

"He's such an arrogant, insufferable, insipid excuse for a human being! And don't even get me started on how he acts like he's moved on. Moved on? Please. I bet he still thinks about me every night. He's probably just doing this to get under my skin, and you know what? It's working!"

One of my friends handed me a drink, trying to calm me down. "Here, have this. It'll help."

I shook my head vehemently. "No, I want to watch him crystal clear. I want to see every single move he makes with her. Every. Single. One."

"Are you sure you're not torturing yourself here?" another friend asked gently.

"Probably," I admitted with a dramatic sigh, finally taking the drink and holding it up like a trophy. "But if I'm going to suffer, I might as well do it with a front-row seat. So, cheers to that!" I clinked my glass against theirs, taking a sip while keeping my eyes locked on Theo.

I continued my monologue, the drink helping me loosen up a bit. "You know what really gets me? It's that damn smirk. Like he knows exactly what he's doing. And that girl—she has no idea what she's in for. Theo doesn't dance. He can’t dance with her he won’t"

"But seriously, I hate him," I said. "I hate him so much."but the thing is I don’t hate him not even close.

“fuck , Theodore Nott” one of them say and then the rest join her .

“ yeah , fuck him” I say .

Despite my friends' pleas to continue the night at another bar, the adrenaline crash and emotional turmoil had completely drained me. "It's not that," I managed, my voice hoarse. "I just… I need to go home."

A pang of guilt shot through me as I realized Dave, or whatever his name was, had been my designated driver. "Sorry,Dave," I mumbled, already heading for the exit.

“ it’s Daniel “ he say .

As I stepped out of the club, the cool night air hit me like a slap in the face. I couldn't shake off the feeling of disappointment and frustration. I just wanted to go home and forget this whole night.

But then I saw it again—Theo's bike parked not too far away. It was like a cruel reminder of everything I was trying to escape. I couldn't resist walking over and running my fingers along the sleek metal of the motorcycle.

"Don’t ever think about it," he said, his voice low and intense.

I turned sharply, my eyes meeting his as I braced myself for whatever was coming next. "What are you doing here, Theodore?" I asked, my tone a mix of irritation and curiosity.

He stepped closer, his presence towering over me. "Just checking on my bike," he replied casually, but there was an underlying tension in his voice.

I scoffed, crossing my arms. "Right. Because that's what you do at a club, you come out to check on your bike."

He smirked, a familiar glint in his eyes. "Well, what can I say? I like to keep my possessions in check."

I rolled my eyes. "You know, you never change, Theo. Always so cryptic and annoying."

"Touchy, aren't we?" he remarked, taking another step closer.

"Back off, Theo," I warned, my hands balling into fists at my sides.

"Why? Are you scared of what might happen if I get too close?" he taunted, his smirk growing.

"Scared? Please, dream of it," I shot back, my defiance masking the turmoil inside me.

"Is that so? Because from where I'm standing, you look like someone who's still clinging to the past."

I felt a surge of anger rise within me. "Clinging to the past? You're the one who can't let go of your stupid bike!" I countered, gesturing towards the sleek motorcycle. Why the fuck I say that?

"Don't pretend like you don't miss it," he smiled.

"I don't miss anything about you," I lied, my voice wobbling slightly.

"Sure, keep telling yourself that," he scoffed, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

The tension crackled between us, the air thick with unspoken words and unresolved feelings. I took a step back, needing some distance from the intensity of our exchange.

"You know what? I'm done," I declared, turning away from him.

"Oh, come on, don't walk away now. We're just getting started," Theo called after me, his voice mocking.

I spun back around, my patience wearing thin. "Started? Started what, Theo? Another round of insults? Because I'm really not in the mood."

His gaze softened slightly, a flicker of something unreadable crossing his features. "Fine. Go home then," he said, his voice losing some of its edge.

"Believe me, I plan to," I shot back, my voice laced with bitterness. “ I fucking hate you”

But before I could turn away again, Theo closed the distance between us in a few swift strides. His hand shot out, grabbing my chin firmly and forcing me to meet his gaze.

"What are you doing?" I murmured, my resolve wavering as his proximity overwhelmed me.

He leaned in closer, his breath mingling with mine. "I hate you too, you know," he confessed, his lips brushing against mine.

His admission stung, but before I could respond, he closed the gap completely, capturing my lips in a bruising kiss. It was angry and desperate, filled with all the pent-up emotions we had been suppressing.

I moaned into his mouth, my body betraying my desire for him despite my anger. His hands roamed over my body, pulling me closer until I was flush against him.

The ride to his place was a blur, my heart pounding in anticipation. As soon as we got inside, the door barely closed behind us, he was on me again. His hands roamed my body, pulling me close and kissing me fiercely.

"Theo," I moaned, feeling the hard length of him pressing against my thigh.

"Shut up," he growled, his voice low and commanding. "No more talking."

He pushed me against the wall, his body pressing against mine. "You want this as much as I do right love?," he murmured, his breath hot against my ear. I moaned in response, unable to deny the truth.

Theo dropped to his knees in front of me, his hands sliding up my thighs. "Look at you, already so wet for me," he whispered, his voice dripping with arrogance

He looked up at me, his eyes dark with desire. "Hold on to something," he commanded. I reached for the wall behind me, bracing myself.

Before I could respond, he dropped to his knees, his hands gripping my thighs as he spread them apart. I tried to find something to hold onto, my hands scrambling against the wall behind me as his mouth found my clit. I moaned loudly, my head falling back against the wall as his tongue worked its magic, teasing and tormenting me with expert precision.

"Theo," I gasped, my legs trembling with the effort to stay standing.

He didn't respond, his focus entirely on driving me insane with pleasure. His fingers joined the fray, sliding inside me as his tongue continued its relentless assault. I cried out, my body shaking as he pushed me closer and closer to the edge.

Just when I thought I couldn't take anymore, he pulled back, his fingers still inside me as he looked up at me with a wicked grin. "Cum for me," he demanded, and that was all it took. My orgasm hit me like a tidal wave, my body convulsing as I screamed his name, the pleasure overwhelming me.

He didn't give me a chance to recover. He pulled me away from the wall and bent me over the couch,"Bend over," he ordered. I did as he said, bending over the arm of the couch.

He thrust into me from behind, hard and fast, his hand gripping my hair. his anger and frustration pouring out in every thrust. I lost count of how many times I came, each orgasm blending into the next until I was nothing but a quivering mess.

I pushed him, to sat down on the couch, his chest heaving as he looked up at me. "What are you doing?" he asked, his voice rough with lust.

"Apologizing," I whispered, straddling him. It was my first time on top, and I was nervous, but he guided me, his hands on my hips as I lowered myself onto him. I gasped at the sensation, my body adjusting to the new angle.

"That's it, baby," he murmured, his hands moving to my breasts as I started to move. "You're doing so good."

I rode him slowly at first, savoring the feel of him inside me. His hands roamed over my body, touching and teasing in all the right places. I moaned loudly, the pleasure building once again as he praised me.

"You're so beautiful," he whispered, his eyes locked on mine. "I'm a fool for ever breaking up with you."

His words hit me harder than any of the insults he had thrown at me earlier. I leaned down, capturing his lips in a passionate kiss as I started to move faster. He met my thrusts with equal fervor, our bodies moving together in perfect harmony.

"I love you," I whispered against his lips, my voice breaking with emotion.

"I love you too," he replied, his hands gripping my hips tightly as we both reached our climax together. The pleasure was overwhelming, a sweet release that left us both breathless and spent.

We collapsed against each other, our bodies slick with sweat as we tried to catch our breath. He kissed my forehead, his arms wrapping around me in a comforting embrace.

The steam curled around us, a hazy curtain separating the present from the storm that had raged just minutes ago. Theodore gently ran a towel over me.

I took a deep breath as Theo played with my hair, the warm water from our bath still lingering on our skin. It was moments like these that reminded me why I fell in love with him in the first place.

"I hate that we let a simple argument lead us to a breakup," I admitted, a tear slipping down my cheek.

Theo gently wiped the tear away. "I never wanted that," he said softly. "I was just hurt and angry. I can't believe I said those things."

I nodded, feeling a weight lift off my shoulders. "I'm sorry too. I didn't mean any of it."

"It's okay," he assured me. "I know. And I shouldn't have acted the way I did."

"But you moved on so quickly," I couldn't help but bring it up.

He chuckled, running his fingers through my hair. "She’s my friend and her girlfriend was right there. I was just messing with you until that Dave—or whatever his name was—got too handsy."

I laughed at the thought. "My mom introduced him to me. He's the son of someone in her club. I don't know."

"So, are we good?" he asked, looking at me with hope in his eyes.

I nodded, resting my head on his chest. "Yeah, I really hope so."

He played with my hair affectionately. "My friends are going to be shocked. I just had that meltdown and made that cinematic monologue about how much I hate you earlier," I teased.

"Did you?" he teased back.

"Yeah, I might take their 'fuck Theodore Nott' way too seriously,".

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆