#enzo angst

[creative-heart]

"Love's Blossom"| Enzo Vogrincic

Chapter 3: “Hope’s Flicker”

Lucia’s Notes: First off, I wanna say thank you for holding on and waiting for me, this whole moving thing has been way harder than I expected, and trying to balance work and this new life and city hasn’t been easy. But Alass! I have been able to get back into writing! 

CONTENT WARNINGS: This one has major warnings for miscarriages; fighting/arguing and general tension (I’m sorry but angst is what I do best LOL). Grief and mourning. I promise it will get better, probably next chapter!  Word Count: 2.7K

Song for this chapter: "I will carry you"- Selah

As the days turned into weeks and the weeks into months, both Enzo and Y/N could feel the tension growing tougher and tougher between them. They were on the fifth cycle of trying to get pregnant and each month, the single blue line would dig a deeper well between them, the sex started to feel like a duty they had to fulfill, a routine, they were certainly not enjoying it anymore. When they looked at yet another negative test one afternoon and Y/N excited the bathroom without uttering a single word, it all started to go downhill. They were both anxious, irritated, and, overall sad that it had been almost six months since they had started trying to have a baby with no success. Y/N had even started wondering if maybe there was something wrong with her. 

Arguments over the smallest things were not strange now when they had never had a serious fight before in all their years together. One evening, as he had been trying to do all the same to try and get his girlfriend out more Enzo walked into their bedroom and smiled “Hey love, I was thinking maybe we could go to the movies and then for some dinner? the Thai restaurant you love has added some new dishes to their menu and I thought we could try them?” Y/N glared at him from her curled-up position in bed putting her phone down for just a second.

“it’s almost 9 pm Enzo, really you wanna go out now? you know I need to sleep well if we want to try and get any chances of having a baby, and Thai food? it’s spicy, same thing! are you really on board with this? or are you trying to sabotage it? Just let me know so I can stop fucking worrying about it!” The brunette snapped at the older guy who stood at the doorway looking at her blinking. “You truly have gone mad woman, I was just trying to get you out of that fucking bed and showered, you smell, you haven’t gotten up in three days and I’m fucking worried, but have it your way! I’m sleeping in the guest room tonight! I’m tired of being your damn punching ball! Do you think this doesn’t affect me? I want to have a baby just as much as you do, and it hurts me seeing you this sad, so if you wanna blame someone, blame God, the Universe, or whatever you want, but not me!” 

The raven-haired guy turned around and walked to the guest room taking a deep breath, he wondered if he had maybe taken it a bit too far, but the truth was he was tired of being at the receiving end of his girlfriend’s anger. As much as he could understand how she must be feeling and how draining this whole process had been for her, he knew he didn’t deserve this, he’d been as supportive as possible, and he had put his sadness to the side to hold her in her worst moments. Enzo was tired, if this didn’t work soon, he wouldn’t put it past them to either look at other options or end up separating.

The days went by slowly, and Y/N looked at her calendar once more frowning before looking at her boyfriend, things hadn’t been the best since that argument, but they both tried putting on a brave face “I should have gotten my period a week ago…should I?” she bit her lip hard, the truth was she knew she should test, but she couldn’t take another negative. Enzo looked up from his book and looked at her “A week? I think it’s worth it, I’ll look at it for you if you want me to.” He kissed her head before getting up and offering her a hand. Y/N took a deep breath before taking his hand. Just that morning they had been talking about the possibility of visiting a fertility doctor, maybe there was something wrong with them and they needed some help to get pregnant.

The younger went by the steps mechanically, she had done this way too many times these past few months. After taking the test she put it back down on the bathroom sink counter and covered it up before walking out of the bathroom and looking at her boyfriend with pleading eyes. “I can’t look” He nodded and kissed her forehead long “I’ve got you baby” he whispered and walked into the room closing the door behind his back. He took a deep breath, it wasn’t like it was easy for him, but he would take all the pain in the world if it meant easing the weight off the love of his life’s shoulders at least a little bit. The Uruguayan stared at the test as it processed, he knew they took three minutes, but he’d go insane if he did anything else. He blinked repeatedly when he saw the result start to show on the little screen, was he hallucinating? maybe he was, but he saw the two lines clear as day. Enzo grabbed the test and swung the bathroom door open to find a crunched-down Y/N on the other end of the hallway chewing at her lips. She looked up when she heard the door and sighed seeing the tears in her boyfriend’s eyes and thinking that yet again it was negative and letting herself slide down the wall “Maybe we should just stop trying and go see an adoption agency or something” she mumbled.

Enzo smiled big at her “Oh, stop trying we will..but because I’m scared I’ll hurt my baby if I poke into you with my dick…it’s positive my love!” he chuckled letting the tears roam freely down his face, Y/N’s face shot up when she heard him saying those words. “You’re not joking, are you? please tell me it’s not another one of your jokes because I’ll kill you if it is” The girl took the hand being offered to her to get up from the floor and looked at the stick Enzo showed her, her breath catching in the back of her throat, eyes wide open with shock and surprise as she kept her eyes glued to the two blue lines on the screen “I’m pregnant” she whispered “this is actually happening”, her hands flying to her stomach instinctively as protection.

After the initial shock had worn off and they cuddled on the couch, Y/N laying in Enzo’s arms as his hands rubbed her lower tummy gently she whispered, “I don’t think I wanna tell anyone yet, I want to go see my doctor, make sure everything is okay and once we’re out of the first trimester, let people in on our little secret, I want this to be our moment”. Enzo hummed softly keeping his eyes closed as they were, the same smile he had when he found out still plastered on his face, “Alright my love, whatever makes you feel more secure and at ease, I’m here to support your every decision, you know that”.

After what felt like an eternity, they were finally called in by the doctor. Y/N explained the whole situation when she found out, when her last period had been, and how the journey had been going the whole show. As her doctor nodded taking notes on her laptop Enzo sat beside the brunette his hand never leaving her knee as his leg bounced anxiously. “Okay, so by the dates you gave me, I’m assuming you might be around 6 weeks along, but I wanna get an ultrasound to be sure and to hear the baby’s heartbeat as well, make sure everything’s going as it should and give you both the first glance at your little pea because that’s around the size this little one will be right now”. She guided them both over to the stretcher and handed Y/N a gown as she turned the machine on “I’m going to go grab some more paper towels while you get changed into the robe okay?” she said exiting the room. Y/N nodded and when she was gone proceeded to take her clothes off from the waist down and put on the gown before laying down on the bed “Wait a second, why are you butt naked?” Enzo frowned confused, his brow deepening at his girlfriend’s laughter “from what I’ve read, baby is still too small to be seen with a normal outdoor ultrasound, so the doctor will have to use this little thing here and insert it in my lady bits to be able to get a look at our little one” she pointed to the internal prove. As she looked at the tan-skinned man’s face her laughter got louder seeing his horrified face.

Shortly after, the doctor returned and started the ultrasound checking everything was as it should. “Okay, images seem to confirm what I thought, you’re around six weeks along, embryo looks healthy, let’s try and hear the heartbeat okay?” she turned on the sound on the machine, and sure enough, a rapid thud came flowing out of the machine. Enzo, who hadn’t let go of Y/N’s hand for one second since the ultrasound started, kissed the back of her hand before quickly wiping his tears, that was his baby’s heartbeat, a real baby, half him, half the love of his life, he couldn’t be happier.  

As the days went by, Y/N was surely feeling the symptoms of this pregnancy, her boobs were killing her, she felt tired all the time, she was starving and nauseated all at the same time so everything she ate made her feel sick. Most of her days were spent laying on the couch watching TV or in bed curled with a good book. Enzo preferred it that way, not like he enjoyed seeing her feel bad, but her being lying down gave him a sense of peace about her and the baby being okay which he enjoyed.

Things were going smoothly, even their relationship had gotten stronger, they were both ecstatic and over the moon about this little one on the way. They knew it was still early to consider being out of the blue, but they couldn’t help but start fantasizing about what the baby would look like, if they would have Enzo’s brown eyes, or Y/N’s hazel ones, who their features would take after, what the baby’s temper would be like. So when around Y/N’s eleventh week of gestation, Enzo had to get out of town for a week or so to do a photo shoot for a new movie he was going to start working on the brunette encouraged him to go, she was going to be just fine on her own.

One hot summer afternoon Y/N hurried through the aisles of the grocery store, her shopping list clutched tightly in her hand. The fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, casting a harsh glow on the rows of products. She had been feeling a bit off all day but chalked it up to the usual pregnancy symptoms. After all, at eleven weeks along, she was still adjusting to the constant waves of nausea and fatigue that had been bothering her for almost three months.

As she reached for a box of cereal, a sudden, sharp pain pierced her abdomen. She gasped, doubling over and clutching her stomach. The pain was intense, like a knife twisting deep inside her. She took a few shallow breaths, trying to steady herself. “Are you okay, ma’am?” A concerned voice broke through her haze of pain. A young store employee. who couldn’t be older than 19  stood nearby, his eyes wide with worry.Y/N nodded weakly, though she wasn’t sure she believed it herself. “Just a cramp, I think,” she managed to say, forcing a smile. But as she straightened up, she felt something wet and warm trickling down her leg. Her heart pounded in her chest as she glanced down, her breath catching in her throat at the sight of blood seeping down her sundress. Panic surged through her, and she grabbed the edge of the shelf to steady herself.

“I need to get to the hospital,” she said, her voice trembling. The employee’s face paled, and he quickly called for help. Within minutes, another employee arrived with a wheelchair and helped Y/N into it. They wheeled her to the front of the store, where an ambulance was already pulling up. The paramedics moved quickly, transferring her to a stretcher and into the back of the ambulance and all she could think of was needing Enzo by her side. Tears streamed down Y/N’s face as the sirens wailed, the pain in her abdomen growing worse with each passing second. The paramedics spoke in low, urgent tones, their faces grim. She clutched her belly, whispering prayers for her baby, fear gripping her heart.

At the ER, the chaos was immediate. Nurses and doctors swarmed around her, asking questions and starting IV lines. Y/N could barely focus on their words, her mind spinning with terror and grief she didn’t know when, but amid all that chaos, she could utter to the nurse beside her to call her emergency contact on her phone. They whisked her into an exam room, and a kind-faced doctor leaned over her, explaining that they needed to do an ultrasound. The room fell silent as the doctor moved the wand over her abdomen. Y/N stared at the monitor, her vision blurred by tears. She knew, even before the doctor spoke in the deepest pit of her heart, what the outcome would be. The absence of the tiny, flickering heartbeat on the screen confirmed her worst fear.

“I’m so sorry,” the doctor said softly, his eyes full of compassion. “You’re having a miscarriage.” The brunette wasn’t even sure she understood English when the doctor spoke, his words sounded foreign and distant.Y/N’s world shattered in that moment. The room seemed to close in around her, the sounds of the hospital fading to a distant hum. She felt a sob rise in her throat, and she let it out, a wail of pure anguish that echoed through the sterile room. The nurse beside her squeezed her hand, offering what little comfort she could.

Hours later, Y/N lay in a hospital bed, the pain in her body now dulled by medication but the ache in her heart raw and relentless. The room was quiet, save for the occasional beep of the monitor. She stared at the ceiling, feeling hollow and empty. The loss was overwhelming, a black hole of grief and pain. She had never imagined this could happen, had never prepared for this kind of heartbreak. The future she had envisioned for herself and her family had been ripped away in an instant. That’s when she felt the tight grip on her hand and the familiar warmth inside her when Enzo kissed her forehead long, he wasn’t even trying to hide his tears. As soon as he received that call from an unknown number hours earlier, he knew, he knew in his gut something was wrong with Y/N, and when he heard the nurse say in that grim tone the words girlfriend, hospital, baby, he knew, he couldn’t hear anything else he hopped on the first plane that would take him home and 5 hours earlier, he was next to the love of his life, she looked as if she wasn’t there, it was like he was holding a mannequin’s hand, but he was there and Enzo knew she could feel him beside her. “I’m sorry for leaving you, I should have never gone” he whispered closing his eyes, he felt so guilty about it, as if this somehow was his fault.

But even in the depths of his sorrow, a small, fragile part of him held onto hope. Enzo knew the road ahead would be long and difficult, especially for Y/N, but he was determined to make sure they would survive this, to find a way to heal. For now, though, he allowed themselves to grieve, to mourn the loss of the little life they had already loved so dearly.

P.S: This got way darker and personal than I had anticipated, but I like the way it came out. I will try and get to writing the next one today as well, to make sure it gets on here ASAP because I don’t want to leave you all on a down note for too long! I promise the flood of fluff coming your way with this will make up for this darker tone. As usual, your likes, comments and reblogs are super nice and encouraging to receive, I will not ask for a certain amount, but I do really enjoy the interactions. If you wanna be part of the taglist, please just comment so down here and I'll make sure to add you to it. 😘😘😘

Taglist: @madame-fear @lastflowrr @koiibiito @luceracastro @candycanes19 @castawaycherry @deepinsideyourbeing @cyliarys-starlight @lxdyred @chiquititamia @expensivechimmy @nperoconelcositoarriba

[wbellab]

Obsessed | Mattheo Riddle

summary: Rumours that you are hooking up with Mattheo Riddle are all over the Hogwarts Gossip. You’ve transferred at hogwarts not even a month ago and you’re- wait are you even supposed to know who he his ? The whole thing is ridiculous. And you’re pissed.

pairing: MattheoRiddle x fem!ravenclaw!reader

cw: angst, fluff, cursing, mention of drinking, slight mamma mia reference (iykyk)

4k words

inspo: obsessed by mariah carey

"No way he really did all that ?" Your 15 year old daughter gasped at your revelation.

"Yeah!" you laughed, shaking your head. "Then he started throwing out all these shitty excuses men come up with when they’re desperate."

She blinked, leaning in. "I bet he was."

You smirked.

"Oh he truly was, so I just stared at him and I was like ‘why are you so obsessed with me?’"

20 years ago.

The Hogwarts Whisper

Okay, guys, grab your wands because this tea is spilling. Our sources have definitely spotted Mattheo Riddle, yes THE Mattheo Riddle, son of Voldemort and the absolute hottest guy at Hogwarts (Professor McGonagall, we know you’re not exactly a fan, but we see you), with none other than the new girl in the three broomsticks. Is this the start of a new Hogwarts couple? We’re not saying they’re a thing... but it’s looking suspiciously like it.

But wait, things are getting spicy ! Another source of ours claims she saw them in the restricted section of the library, right next to the Dark Arts aisle, sharing a kiss that was so passionate, even Ron Weasley would have dropped his Chocolate Frog. Now, we have to ask, is Riddle trying to tip her over to the Dark Side? He didn’t exactly confirm or deny it, but what we do know is that he definitely tipped her over to his bed… No, we don’t mean in a metaphorical sense–

Your heart dropped.

What the fuck ?

You turned to your new friend, Luna Lovegood, who sat next to you in the Ravenclaw table. The paper was still in your hand and you gestured to it.

"I’m going to have a panic attack Luna. What is that ?"

It was supposed to be a quiet morning.

You had just sat down at breakfast, half-asleep, your toast untouched, when the shriek came from the other end of the Ravenclaw table.

"Oh. My. God. You’re on the cover."

You blinked. "Huh?"

Before you could even react, a copy of The Hogwarts Whisper was slammed onto the table in front of you. The glossy, overly dramatic headline screamed back at you:

“Mattheo Riddle Caught Locking Lips With Mysterious New Girl in Restricted Section.”

Your face went up in flames. It couldn’t be you right ? But your name was clearly mentioned in the paper.

"No. This is insane. I didn’t—I’ve never—"

But no one was listening. Everyone had turned to look at you. Eyes widened.

Whispers buzzed across the hall louder than enchanted howlers. You could see girls glaring, a few Ravenclaws snickering, and somewhere down the table, someone gasped. Dramatically.

"Merlin’s beard," you muttered, flipping the page. It got worse.

One source claims they heard moaning next to the Dark Arts aisle. Another says she’s been under a Love Potion. Which, let’s be honest, is very on-brand for someone who wears last season’s robes.

You slammed the magazine shut and turned to your friends. "Who wrote this? Who let this get published?"

Cho mumbled, "It’s anonymous. Probably that nosy third year Hufflepuff-"

"I wasn’t in the library yesterday ! I wasn’t even near the restricted section! I was in the common room, writing a stupid essay on wand theory!"

Your voice cracked, slightly hysterical now. Your hands came to rest on top of your eyes. You breathing was shallow as you tried to keep your calm, trying to think about what could’ve gone wrong.

You’ve transferred from Ilvermony a month ago. Hogwarts was supposed to be a new start for you after what happened there. You were bullied, relentlessly. Whispers behind your back that turned into cruel jokes in the hallways. Spells cast when professors weren’t looking. Your wand yanked from your hand mid-duel, your belongings hexed to humiliate you, your name always twisted into something meaner.

No one ever really stepped in. Not the teachers, not your so called friends. By the end, you stopped trying to defend yourself. You stopped speaking in class. You stopped looking people in the eye.

So when your parents offered the transfer to Hogwarts, you didn’t hesitate.

"Well actually, it could be Riddle." Luna interrupted your thoughts. You stared at her in question and she continued. "It says here that he confirmed that you guys slept together. It’s quite explicit."

"How could he do this ?" You wondered out loud. "Why would he say things like that ?"

"Tell that to them." Cho hummed towards the Slytherin table where a group–including Draco Malfoy, Pansy Parkinson, Blaise Zabini, Theodore Malfoy and Lorenzo Berkshire– was sat. They were also checking the journal, although they seemed amused by what was written. Obviously they would be.

Riddle was part of their friend group. It made them laugh to hear about another one of his conquest being publicly outed. You looked back at the journal. The guy even had the nerve to give a personal interview. You felt outraged.

When Mattheo Riddle arrived in the Great Hall, he was oblivious to the commotion happening. He sat next to his friends, thinking about his next potion class.

"Long night ?" Theodore questioned, a smirk on his face. He just rolled his eyes in response.

"Bugger off." He grabbed a spoonful of scrambled eggs and poured himself a glass of pumpkin juice. Something felt weird. When he raised his head, he saw all his friends staring at him expectantly, a big smile on their face. "Okay are you gonna tell what’s happening now ?" He dropped his spoon on the table, folding his arms against his chest.

"Aren’t you gonna read the news ?" Pansy smirked handing his a piece of journal. He stared at it confused, dread forming in his chest. What did his father do again ? At this point he was expecting a handful of things.

But what he truly was not expecting, it was to see his name on the paper. He read the headline once, twice. He frowned.

His eyes scanned the paper, widening each time he read the most blatant bullshit ever written on a paper. He quickly slammed it on the table, eyes wide open in horror as if traumatised.

"What was that ?" He looked around at his friends, who seemed to have witnessed the best entertainment of this year so far. "I’ve never seen this much bullshit written about me and trust me, I’ve read a lot of shit by the Rita Skeatcher."

"Come on, don’t act oblivious. You wrote this."

"I did not." He felt offended that people, let alone his friends would think he would engage in something as irrelevant as gossiping. Mattheo did not have the time for this. People already knew he could pull, why brag about it through a paper ? "This is an obvious piss-take. I would never say this." He gestured to the paper.

"Good point." Blaise nodded.

His thoughts seemed to clear a bit and that’s when he realised. His head snapped up, and he looked around scanning the Hall, looking for you. You were sat with your friends, furious he noticed. Obviously you would be.

When you felt eyes on you, you automatically turned your head toward his table, locking eyes. Your frown immediately deepened and you flipped him off, with both your hands. Childish, he pointed out.

You then stood up, aggressively and walked out of the Hall. Draco, who was the only one who noticed this interaction snorted on his food. Yes, Draco Malfoy snorting.

"Good job cousin."

Mattheo rolled his eyes. Standing up walking towards the entrance. After having done four strides, he immediately turned, walking back to his friends.

"Please find who wrote this and delete that shit." And without waiting for an answer he turned back, speeding to catch up with you.

"Hum… who’s gonna break it to him?" Pansy muttered.

"It was your idea. You assume the consequences." Blaise huffed.

"What ?" Lorenzo, Draco and Theodore stared at the two of them, confused.

"Pansy had this great idea to ruin Mattheo’s reputation after he pranked her. You know when he turned her hair yellow neon."

"You actually helped me write this, you hypocrite !" Pansy defended herself. Blaise simply shrugged at that.

"I don’t think it’s even possible to ruin his reputation at this point there is nothing to ruin." Enzo deadpanned.

"Hey I was desperate. We each have our own reasons to hold a grudge against Riddle…" Pansy muttered. "But I didn’t think he would get this." She paused, searching for the correct word. "Agitated ?"

"Well about that…"

You were strolling to your dorm. You needed to get your books before the first period started, that is if you even considered going. Your feet met the concrete floor with a loud thud, each step a confirmation of how furious you were.

You heard from behind quick paces. You curiously turned your head and to your own displeasure you saw the person you last wanted to talk to. Mattheo Riddle, with his hair all disheveled was trying to catch up with you. And he definitely seemed out of breath. Probably his smoking, you thought.

You rolled your eyes quickening your pace.

"Hey please." You heard him call out. Still you ignored him. You were nearly running now, running away from him as he chased you. The situation was dramatic, a bit comical from an external point of vue. But you really wanted to get away from him. You were nearly there. You could see the Ravenclaw’s common room’s door right in front of you.

It’s when you felt his hand on your shoulder that you suddenly flinched and stopped right on your track.

"Don’t touch me you dirty ass rag." He looked taken aback by your sudden outburst.

"I-"

"No you don’t get to fucking talk. You fucking humiliated me. And for what ? A good laugh ? Why would you sqy shit like and lie about us having sex ?"

"I never said this. Please just listen to me-" He nearly begged but you cut him off.

You did not care about him. You definitely did not sign up for this bullshit when you arrived. Having to deal with a guy was one of the last things you wanted to do.

"No I won’t. I know how men like you are. Pathetic. I’ll leave you to your miserable life. Continue bragging about getting me in your bed, it’ll make you look obsessed if it didn’t already."

You walk towards the door of your common room, thankful for the suspiciously great timing of the first year opening door at this right moment. You definitely didn’t feel like solving a riddle while trying to get away from Mattheo Riddle (pun not intended). The student awkwardly smiled at you, not meeting your gaze and you guessed that he probably heard your conversation.

Oh well. Something new to gossip about.

"I’ll fix this !" You heard his muffled voice, after closing the common room door.

Asshole.

Once you were settled on your bed, you decided that skipping your morning classes wouldn’t be that bad of an idea. You had advanced potions and you were prepared enough for your NEWT’s that skipping that one class wouldn’t hurt. You glanced at the paper on top of your roommate’s night table, The Hogwarts Whisper. On the front page, a very realistic picture of Mattheo Riddle kissing someone (that looked very similar to you) against a bookshelf. You did not take the time to properly look at it this morning, but watching it more carefully you realise that it’s not even you on the moving picture .

You crumble the piece of paper between your hands before igniting it with your wand. This was humiliating. You would never admit it but you truly fell for his charms. Back on the first day.

"Hi." You walked reluctantly towards the boy sitting alone in the Hallway. You were lost. Again. It was the third time and it was only the first hour of your first day at Hogwarts. The boy raised his head, his cigarette not moving from his mouth and he just waited for you to continue talking. "Do you know where the potions classroom is ? It’s my next class and I don’t really know my way around here. I would have tried looking for it myself but I’m a bit late. And well I have this map but it’s hard to–"

"It’s just here." He cut you off pointing to the door behind you.

"Oh." You mumbled embarrassed, looking at the ground. You felt your face flushing. "Mmh…Thank you, I guess ?"

You quickly turned around knocking once on the door. Without waiting for an answer you opened the door, too embarrassed to be one more second around the boy. You apologised to the professor and found a place in the back of the room.

As if the universe was against you, the classroom door opened to reveal the same boy who had been sitting smoking just a few minutes ago.

"I’m sorry Professor Slughorn. I woke up a bit late."

"Come come, m’boy." The professor waved him off, returning to his lecture.

Misfortunately for you, the boy obviously sat next to you. Out of all the empty places around you. You turned to him and saw that he didn’t even pay you attention.

"You did not."

"Excuse me ?"

"Wake up late– I mean that’s not the reason why you’re late."

"Wow you truly are clever." He answered sarcasm dripping from his voice. "I bet you’re in Ravenclaw right ?" He smirked.

"You see my tie colour." You deadpanned.

"I’m colour blind."

"No you’re not."

"How would you know. Do you know me ?" He asked challenging you.

"No, but colour blinding is a condition that affects only 4.5 per cent of the population, population that is, may I add, muggle. It does not affect wizards whatsoever."

"So Ravenclaw ?" His smirk was still present or his face, although it softened a little bit.

"What’s your name ?"

"Mattheo."

"Mattheo what ?" He frowned at that. Did you really not know who he was ?

"Riddle ?" He said but it sounded more like a question.

"No, no riddle just tell me."

"It’s Mattheo Riddle." He huffed exasperatedly.

"Oh okay, sorry."

After this, he volunteered to show you around the castle. You both hit it off pretty well. He spent three hours explaining every thing you needed to know to be able to guide your way around. He made a few jokes here and there making you laugh, and you always wittily retorted back which, as hard as he tried to conceal it, made him laugh too. Eventually, you both started talking about your personal life, sharing deep thoughts you’ve each never told anyone before. You’ve known each other for just a few hours really but it felt like you could both trust each other. It had been just a few days. But in the span of them you felt like he was your first friend, and somehow you were also the first person he truly appreciated.

Until that stupid paper.

"You should come to the party." Cho cut your thoughts.

You didn’t bother going for lunch nor for dinner. Your roommates have been kind enough to bring you something to eat, just a piece of bread with cheese and two blueberry tarts. This small gesture warmed your hearts and you thanked them although you weren’t very hungry.

They were now dressing up for the Hufflepuff quidditch victory party against Gryffindor. You were told Hufflepuff threw the best parties and although you wanted to figure it out for yourself, you did not feel like showing up your face ever again.

"Arghh… No I’m never setting feet out of this room." You retorted, your face deep in your pillow.

"This will be so much fun, you have to come please." Padma, another one of your roommates, tried convincing you.

You smiled apologetically at them. You truly appreciated how they wanted you to feel included but you genuinely didn’t want to party. They understood and after a few minutes they left the room leaving you alone. Or that’s what you thought.

"Your head is surrounded by nargles." You flinched at the sound of her voice. She took off the originally shaped glasses she was wearing, and stared at you. "Is something bothering you ?"

"I mean other than what happened this morning…"

"Oh yes right." She muttered. After a few minutes of silence she broke it. "You should go. To the party. You shouldn’t let Riddle hold this much power over you."

"I know but…" You had no explanation.

"In other circumstances would you have gone ?" She asked. You thought for a few seconds then you simply nodded your head. "Then you should go. Don’t let Riddle have that much power over you." You nodded thinking about it. She was right you shouldn’t let him affect you this much.

"Luna, I don’t know anyone."

"It’s okay I’ll come with you."

"You would ?"

"Yes I mean I don’t like parties but I guess if this could help you, why not ?" You warmly smiled at her.

Then you both started getting dressed. You wore a simple black laced top with a short black skirt and black boots. Luna suggested you wore a dark red lipstick, and you were against it until she reassured you it would really compliment your facial features. She herself wore a lighter version of your outfit, a long white skirt with a white top and light pink ballerinas. It complimented her fair skin and light hair.

The Hufflepuff common room was buzzing with music, you heard the sound of it even before entering the common room. Once you were inside, it was the smell of booze that entered you nostrils, making you shudder a little bit. You turned towards the makeshift bar in the end of the room.

"I’m getting myself a drink." You turned to Luna and she nodded, although she followed there.

You wouldn’t admit it but you lost count of the number of Firewhisky shots you drank after the second one. You weren’t used to drinking, a simple drop of it was enough to make you tipsy. But now you were absolutely wasted. Cho and Padma joined you when they saw you did in fact make it to the party. And quickly enough, you started swaying to the music amongst the crowd of students.

You were the first person Mattheo Riddle noticed when he entered the common room. It was hard not too. When you were in the middle of the dance floor, the sound of your laugh distinctive amongst the chatter, as you were swaying with the Hufflepuff’s quidditch team’s captain behind you. You looked beautiful that’s also one of the first thing he noticed but he couldn’t help feeling bitter about the position you were in with that other boy.

"Hey mate, we’re going–"

"Don’t fucking talk to me." He cut Blaise off.

His friends eventually told him they were the ones behind the article. And well…let’s say that Pansy couldn’t make it to the party because she unexpectedly grew a snake tongue in her mouth. Blaise was still there, although his hair was not.

They didn’t mean any harm. For them it was just a simple joke. But Mattheo seemed to have taken it that badly that he also refused to speak to any of them (and he probably will for at least a month even if you talk to him again). And that meant even his brother and cousin.

He headed towards the middle of the dance floor right towards you. He physically couldn’t bear watching you dancing this close to another man. It was also his chance to explain himself.

"Please can we talk ?" He said once he was close enough to you.

You turned your head and your joyful expression started to turn grim at the sight of him.

"You’re delusional if you think we have anything to talk about." You went back to dancing against the guy you were with. His hands going suspiciously lower and that was the last straw for him. How dare he touch you like this ? Let alone while he was clearly talking to you.

He ripped his hands off your body, nearly breaking them as you gasped. The guy cursed him loudly, but Mattheo didn’t care as he grabbed your hand. With a flick of his hand, the guys mouth was zipped shut. Satisfied, he guided you towards the exit of the common room, although you tried fighting back but your drunken body couldn’t do much against him. Once you were both in a quiet corner, he decided to let go of your hand.

"What is wrong with you ?" You frowned trying to stabilise your body. You were feeling extremely dizzy and Mattheo noticed, putting a hand on your hip so you wouldn’t fall.

"I hope you’ll listen to me now." he said, though his voice was softer than you'd expected.

You nodded slowly, barely holding yourself together. You really shouldn’t have drunk this much.

"Tell me." You mumbled trying to compose your thoughts. "Why are you so obsessed with me ?" It was meant to come off as biting. Dismissive.
But Mattheo didn’t take it that way. He didn’t even flinch.

He sighed.

"Because you’re the first person that doesn’t make me feel like I’m completely fucked."

You flinched at his honesty, blinking hard as your slow brain tried to catch up with the weight of his words. But he kept going.

"And I can’t fucking help thinking about you."
His voice was strained now. Like it hurt to speak.
"You’re constantly on my mind to the point I just can’t help but crave having you near me. All the time. And it’s driving me crazy. It’s scary as hell and I know it sounds insane but I need you. You don’t even realize how much.
You make it look so easy. So right. Like whatever I’ve done, whatever I’ve been, I’m not being judged. Not by you."

He took a shaky breath and pursed his lips, like he was trying to stop himself from saying too much. Then, quieter.

"I wouldn’t fuck it up. Not this. It would never be worth it."

There were still so many things he didn’t say.
How you made him feel safe in a way no one ever had.
How you listened without flinching.
How just existing near you felt like healing.

And maybe someday, he’d find the words for all of that.
But for now, this was everything.

"You’re pathetic." You huffed, but there was no bite in your voice. If anything, his words had sobered you up. Slowed your heartbeat in that dangerous, terrifying way.

"I know," he murmured. "Just for you."

You rolled your eyes but your lips twitched.

"You better deal with the paper."

"Yes." He was already shifting. "I’ll do it right now if you want."

You leaned in, your fingers brushing against his jaw, tilting his face toward yours.

"I’m thinking about doing other things." You muttered.

And then…

Dot dot dot.

"Fucking disgusting!" Your daughter gasped.

"Don’t tell me you told her about The Hogwarts gossip thing." Mattheo appeared in the living room, still in his robe from work

"Of course I did. She had to know the real truth about how her parents started dating."

"You didn’t need to say the WHOLE thing." She yelled.

"I didn’t. The ending is kept open for free interpretation." You shrugged, an amused smile on your face.

She huffed getting up. "This is so going to the group chat. Uncle Draco’s definitely going to hear about this. You two need help."

Mattheo glanced at you with a smirk.

"Do you think we should ask Draco for that therapist he talked about ? Maybe our dear daughter might need it."

"I don’t think it’s necessary. She’s just jealous she’s not as fun as us." You answer teasingly.

"You’re both insane!" Your daughter yelled from the hallway.

Mattheo chuckled and dropped onto the couch beside you, wrapping an arm around your shoulder and pulling you into him. You went without resistance, head resting against his chest.

"You shouldn’t have told her." He muttered. "It’s an embarrassing story." 

"It’s a cute story." you countered, lips curving into a smirk.

He paused. Then sighed.

"Yeah well. Still awfully cheesy."

You just laughed, knowing damn well it was his favorite memory too.

a/n: this has been sitting in my drafts for three months. still not satisfied with the content but it took me a lot of time to edit.

[girllblogging777]

𝐴𝐹𝑇𝐸𝑅 𝑇𝐻𝐸 𝑆𝑇𝑂𝑅𝑀.ೃ࿐

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

↳ 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑑 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑡 : 1.2k

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

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

your heart skipped a beat. dementors.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

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

[sassatoru]

Congrats on getting 2k followers!

I would like to request hydrangea (srry if I got it wrong, my memory sucks) + string + "wish you loved me just as much as you loved her (kory)" !

LOVER OF NOT MINE

pairing. dick grayson x reader

warning. angst

prompts used. “wish you loved me just as much as you loved her.”

you could see the difference in the way he looked at you and her. dick could try to deny it, promise you that he and kory were done, but god you could see through him. the stupid looks of pity that his friends sent your way.

and that’s when the doubts started forming in your mind. how could you compare to her. kory was a princess, from another planet. an alien princess and you… you were just you.

a normal person, who lives a normal life. no vigilante tendencies, you had your load of trauma but who doesn’t?

was it you? were you too boring for him? too normal?

this “outing” as he’d called it had confirmed everything you were feeling. he’d dragged you along against your will, you hadn’t wanted to come to this stupid vigilante/superhero/anti-hero get together at some bar.

the second you’d arrived he kissed your cheek to make his way to kory, her eyes lit up at the sight of him as they hugged, his hands lingering on her hips a lot longer than they ever did yours.

what were you going to do now? you didn’t know anyone here, so you sat at the free spot at the end of the bar, alone and disappointed. it’d been half an hour now, and he hadn’t even spared a glance in your direction yet, too busy listening to whatever stupid nonsense was coming out of kory’s mouth.

honestly you looked too pretty to be left behind like this, you wanted to just go home. you didn’t have the car keys though, dick insisted that he drive the two of you there.

maybe that was his plan, keep you trapped here, watching him and kory so you’d know where you stood in this relationship. you felt that lump in your throat get heavier, you couldn’t walk home. not in fucking bludhaven, this place was nearly as bad as gotham — wait, they’re leaving.

together?

you froze in your seat as they walked past the bar, he’d forgotten you were here, you could tell by the way his eyes focused on her completely.

you should’ve stayed home. guess you’re gonna be walking home after all.

people didn’t pay you any mind as you slipped past them and out onto the chilly streets where you could catch a glimpse of dick’s car speeding away from the bar.

you felt sick. scared and sick. bag clutched as you walked tensely, head low to avoid anyone’s gaze. the dark made the city look a little peaceful, but everyone knew that was far beyond the truth.

you distantly hear a few whistles calling out to you but those men make no move to pursue you either. so you kept walking until you reach the entrance of you apartment building, you stepped in as quickly as you could, pressing the elevator button a few times, impatiently.

the door dinged as it opened, you shivered as you stepped in, pressing the button of the floor you lived on, it was times like this you were glad you hadn’t moved in with dick.

you didn’t bother changing when you crawled into bed, kicking your heels off at the door, greeted by your cat meowing at you and following you to bed.

at least someone was acknowledging you, your little companion jumped up onto the bed, taking the side dick usually would most nights with a purr as he tried to get as close to you as possible.

you couldn’t hold it back anymore, silent tears falling down your cheeks as you curled up. eventually, sometime past 11pm you passed out. you had exhausted all your tears and just given up.

it’s only at 1am that dick comes looking for you. his key to your place jingled softly enough to not stir you as he opened the door, barging through and going straight for your bedroom, the noise startling both you and your cat awake.

you let out a noise something between a scream and a cry and your cat hisses as the sight of dick. he’d never liked your ‘boyfriend’ in the first place, maybe you should’ve trusted his instincts.

“sweetheart, i’m so sorry.”

the apology is the first thing that slipped from his tongue and it all came back to you.

“i lost track of time and—”

“where were you?” you ask, throat sore from your crying, he could see the dried tear stains on your cheeks and he knew he’d messed up past what was forgivable.

he’d left you alone, in a room of strangers with no way home.

“i’m sorry,” he whispers, eyes dropping to the floor and you notice the disheveled way his hair sat, collar covered in the same shade of lipstick kory had been wearing, and if you looked close enough there’d be a matching stain on his lips.

you didn’t need this. “get out.”

you gave him no time to argue, standing up and shoving a box of his stuff into his arms. things you’d collected in your state of sad anger, the box contained his clothes, random little trinkets he’d brought along, gifts he’d brought you — never anything expensive just stuffed animals and cards.

“can’t we talk about this?” he pleaded and failed as shoved him further.

“no, if you want kory so badly. then have her, but don’t drag me along to play the fool.”

he winces at your retort, shame settling in his bones.

“is it me?” you cant help but ask, “why can’t you love me as much as you love her? wish you loved me just as much as you love her.”

he’s starting to really wish he’d left the first time you asked — told him to.

“you’re perfect,” he whispers, “but she… me and her, we..”

“just leave, i don’t want to see you again, dick.”

he doesn’t fight it, he doesn’t have the right anymore does he. his heart sinks when he closes your bedroom door behind him and he can hear the way you break down, trying to keep quiet.

you deserved to know but he’d never tell you, it was never real. you and him, you were just a sweet innocent girl he was using to get his ex back, and it worked. now he’ll move on and leave you to suffer the consequences.

© e-nonsense. do no copy/steal/translate. do it and I’ll bite your toes off

[iamgonnagetyouback]

ANYTHING YOU WANT, DARLING.⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ㅤ ㅤ●ㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤ L. BERKSHIRE

SUMMARY ৎ୭ lorenzo flirts with everyone but you, and it’s fine—really, it is. you’re not jealous. not even a little. but when you start ignoring him, he starts unravelling—seeking you out, lingering in doorways, watching you like you’re the only person who matters. turns out, he was never really interested in them. it was always you

WARNINGS ಇ. angst with a happy ending, mutual pining, jealousy, lorenzo being an oblivious idiot, reader pretending they don’t care (they do), enzo absolutely losing his mind when you ignore him

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ᡣ𐭩 words.ᐟ 1,697

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ౨ৎㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

The Great Hall buzzed with its usual morning chaos. Students laughed, chatted, and passed platters of toast and eggs. Amid the noise, your eyes were fixed on Lorenzo Berkshire who seemed to have made flirting his full-time hobby.

You hated it.

It wasn’t that Lorenzo was a bad person. Quite the opposite—he was charming, intelligent, and disarmingly kind when he wanted to be. But his relentless flirting with every single person in sight—except you—was enough to make your blood boil. Today’s unfortunate recipient of his charm was Marietta Edgecombe, who giggled behind her hand like he’d just told the most ground-breaking joke in wizarding history. Yesterday, it had been a Gryffindor prefect. The day before that, a Hufflepuff.

And every single time, he ignored you.

You stabbed at your eggs with unnecessary vigour, the fork scraping against your plate as you watched him lean closer to Marietta.

Your fork scraped against your plate, the grating sound earning a side-eye from Hermione across the table.

“Everything all right, honey?” she asked, her tone both concerned and suspicious.

“Fine,” you replied curtly, stabbing at your eggs with unnecessary force.

“Doesn’t look fine,” Ron piped up, his mouth half-full of toast. “Looks like you’re about to duel someone.”

“I’m not,” you snapped, earning a raised eyebrow from Hermione.

Ron followed your gaze straight to Lorenzo. His eyes widened, and he let out a low whistle. “Oh. It’s him.”

“Shut up, Ron,” you muttered, cheeks heating.

But Hermione wasn’t letting it go. “What did Lorenzo do this time?”

“He exists,” you grumbled, but Ron caught the flicker of irritation in your tone and snorted.

“Merlin, I knew you had a thing for Berkshire.”

“Excuse me?!”

“You’re always talking about him,” Ron said with a smirk. “Every other sentence is about how annoying he is.”

“Yeah, because he is annoying,” you snapped, your voice rising slightly. Hermione gave you a warning look, and you lowered your voice. “All that smirking and winking and pretending like the world revolves around him.”

“You don’t think it does?” Hermione teased lightly, and you gave her a betrayed look.

“Not you, too,” you muttered, slouching back in your chair.

Ron barked out a laugh, nearly choking on his pumpkin juice. “You’re jealous.”

“I am not!”

“Oh, darling, you absolutely are,” Pansy Parkinson drawled as she slid into the seat next to you, clearly having overheard. She plucked a piece of fruit off your plate and popped it into her mouth, her dark eyes glinting with amusement.

“Pansy, I didn’t invite your opinion.”

“And yet, here it is.” She leaned closer, her voice a conspiratorial whisper. “If you want my advice—”

“I don’t.”

“—you should just tell him how you feel.”

“Absolutely not,” you said firmly. “Especially not when he spends all his time flirting with every person in this castle but me.”

Pansy tilted her head, feigning thoughtfulness. “Maybe he’s saving the best for last.”

Hermione snorted. “Or maybe he’s just an idiot.”

“Both things can be true,” Ron chimed in, earning a glare from you.

“Berkshire flirts with everyone. Daphne, Marietta, the ghost of the Bloody Baron, probably.”

Pansy snorted. “Don’t be dramatic. But you’re not wrong. He’s insufferable.”

You laughed, but it felt forced. “Insufferable, but effective,” you said, glancing down the table to Lorenzo who was currently leaning toward Marietta's friend with that easy grin of his, murmuring something that made her blush furiously.

“Disgusting,” Pansy muttered, flicking a piece of bread crust in Lorenzo’s direction.

You didn’t say anything, just turned back to your plate with an exaggerated yawn, pretending you didn’t care. Because you didn’t. Obviously.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ౨ৎㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

Later that day, you found yourself paired with Hermione in Potions. While you normally enjoyed your lively banter with Blaise or Pansy during class, Hermione's determined focus was a stark contrast to your usual carefree demeanour.

"Pass the powdered asphodel, would you?" Hermione asked, not looking up from her cauldron.

You obliged, handing her the jar. "So, Granger, tell me—does Berkshire flirt with you, too, or is it just the rest of the female population at this school?"

Hermione blinked, taken aback. "What?"

You smirked, stirring your potion lazily. "You heard me. Has he tried his infamous charm on you yet?"

Hermione frowned, glancing toward Lorenzo, who was seated a few tables away. "He’s charming, I suppose, and he did try to flirt with me once but I’m not exactly his type."

You scoffed. "Please. His 'type' is anyone with a pulse."

Hermione gave you a knowing look. "You’re awfully fixated on him for someone who claims not to care."

Your smirk faltered, but only for a fraction of a second. "He’s hard to miss, that’s all. Like a particularly obnoxious peacock."

"Right," Hermione said, her tone laced with amusement.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ౨ৎㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

You didn’t think much of it until later that evening when you walked into the common room and found Lorenzo lounging on the sofa, a book in his hands. For once, he wasn’t surrounded by adoring fans or batting his lashes at some poor, unsuspecting girl.

“Berkshire,” you greeted, your voice light.

“Darling,” he replied without looking up, the corner of his mouth twitching into a smile.

You rolled your eyes but plopped into the armchair across from him anyway. “No damsels to charm tonight? What, did you finally run out of compliments?”

He closed his book, resting it on his lap as he fixed you with that infuriatingly smug grin. “Jealous, are we?”

You laughed, sharp and unbothered. “Of what? Watching you recycle the same three pickup lines on every girl in Hogwarts? Hardly.”

Something flickered in his eyes, but he recovered quickly, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. “You’re unusually feisty tonight, sweetheart. Are you sure you’re not jealous?”

You scoffed, crossing your legs and leaning back in your chair. “Please. If anything, I pity them. They don’t realize how fleeting your attention is.”

His smirk softened into something more contemplative. “And you do?”

“Of course,” you replied smoothly, not missing a beat. “You’re predictable, Berkshire. And tragically obvious.”

He laughed, low and genuine. “You’re incredible, you know that?”

“And you’re insufferable,” you shot back, standing and brushing imaginary dust off your skirt. “But thanks for the chat. It’s always a pleasure.”

You didn’t wait for his response, walking away with your head held high.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ౨ৎㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

The following days, you avoided him—not because you cared, of course, but because you were busy. And if you happened to leave the Great Hall as soon as he entered, or take the long way to class to avoid passing him in the corridor, well, that was purely coincidence. Pansy noticed, of course, and wouldn’t stop teasing you about it.

“Don’t look now,” she whispered one morning, “but your favorite flirt is looking this way.”

You didn’t glance up from your plate. “Let him look.”

But when you passed Lorenzo in the corridor later that day, you felt his gaze linger, his usual confident smirk absent.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ౨ৎㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

The next time you saw Lorenzo was in the common room, where you were reading your book.

“Stalking me now?” you asked, trying to sound annoyed.

“Are you avoiding me?” he asked, stepping towards you.

“Why would I be avoiding you?”

“I don’t know,” he said, crouching so he was at eye level with you. “But I can’t help noticing you’ve been scarce lately.”

“Maybe I’ve just been busy,” you said lightly, turning a page even though you weren’t reading.

“Or maybe you’re upset about something,” he countered, his tone softer now.

You sighed, snapping your book shut. “Why would I be upset?”

“That’s what I’m trying to figure out,” he said, his voice quieter now. “Did I do something?”

You hesitated, the words bubbling up before you could stop them. “You’re- you're everywhere, Enzo. Always flirting, always making people feel special, and then...” You trailed off, not sure how to finish.

“And then?” he prompted, his brows drawing together.

“And then nothing,” you said, shaking your head. “Forget it.”

But he didn’t.

He reached out, his hand brushing yours. “I flirt with everyone because it’s easy,” he admitted, his voice raw. “It’s a game. A distraction. But with you... it’s different.”

You looked at him, startled. “What are you talking about?”

He exhaled, running a hand through his hair. “I didn’t flirt with you because I was terrified. Terrified you’d see right through me. Terrified you wouldn’t care.”

Your heart ached at the vulnerability in his voice.

“Enzo,” you began, but he cut you off.

“No, let me finish,” he said. “You’re the most brilliant, infuriating, impossible person I’ve ever met. And I didn’t know how to handle that. So I flirted with everyone else, hoping it would distract me from wanting you.”

“I know I’ve been an idiot,” he admitted, his voice low. “And I know I’ve hurt you.”

Your heart twisted. “Then why did you do it?”

He sighed, raking a hand through his hair. “Because I thought I didn’t stand a chance with you. And I figured... if I couldn’t have you, at least I could distract myself.”

You stared at him, the weight of his words sinking in. “You’re an idiot,” you said finally, your voice trembling.

“I know,” he said, his lips quirking into a small, self-deprecating smile. “But I’m your idiot. If you’ll have me.”

For a moment, you said nothing, your emotions warring within you. Then, before you could second-guess yourself, you closed the distance between you, your hands tangling in his robes as you kissed him.

Lorenzo froze, clearly stunned, before his arms wrapped around you, pulling you closer. When you finally pulled away, his forehead rested against yours, his breath warm against your skin.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “For everything.”

“You’d better be,” you murmured, a small smile tugging at your lips.

He smiled, tentative and hopeful. “Does that mean you forgive me?”

“Maybe,” you said, tilting your head. “If you promise to stop flirting with every girl who walks by.”

“Done,” he said instantly.

“And maybe buy me chocolate,” you added with a smirk.

“Anything you want, darling,” he said, his voice warm and sincere.

And for the first time, his charm didn’t feel like a game. It felt real.

©iamgonnagetyouback౨ৎ please refrain from copying, translating, or reposting any of my work

[slytherinboysvip]

Manipulation| L.B

Lorenzo Berkshire, your sweet and romantic boyfriend; You could deny it all you wanted, but truthfully your boyfriend was a master manipulator down to the bone. It’s not like it was huge things so why should you care? I mean sure his feelings would always overcome yours, and sure he had many friends while you had close to none but it wasn’t that weird at all.

-

“Love, you know they’re like brothers to me it would be absurd for me to ditch on them, come on don’t you love me?” he’d plead with you, forcing a yes unless you wanted to deal with his rash emotions that is;

“Wow. They were right, you are controlling” he’d scoff looking at you like you’d just betrayed him. You knew if you would just say yes he would stop, he’d be your sweet boyfriend again and all would be well. “Enzo, please just stop this you can go ok?” you sigh giving up not wanting to waste anymore energy on a fight you couldn’t win.

A big smile creeps up on his face and he leans down placing a soft kiss on your lips “I knew you’d come around princess, you know how much I love you I’d rather be here, you know that” he’d wink, and as quickly as his smile previously crept up he was gone and out the door without looking back once.

-

Maybe you were just clingy? I mean he did tell you that a lot, “Sometimes I wonder how guys could want a clingy girlfriend like yeah I want you love, but I need space and time with friends”.

-

Anytime you’d complain about being lonely he’d rebuttal “Well how do you think I feel when you decide to study or go to class when I skip”..”How can you call yourself lonely when you have me Y/n, is my company nothing?” The way he twisted things drove you insane at first, everything was so unfair and he wasn’t batting an eye.

However, that was at first. You don’t know why you stayed with him, he wasn’t fair to you, but overtime you realized, he made you realize, “We’ll never fight if you just listen to me baby, I never mean to hurt you love I need you” He needed you, maybe you needed him too?

You finally stopped hanging out with any friends he didn’t like, which admittedly was all of them. If you wanted to study it was always in his dorm even if he interrupts because you two “have” to go out, or do other things. Though he still always goes out alone with his friends because he doesn’t trust them with you it was normal, right?

It’s not like you had anyone to ask these questions to, all you had was Enzo and he was telling you it was right, he was telling you it was all okay, so it was. His twisted version of love became your reality. You believed everything he told you because he was all you had.

-

this was a lil drafty draft, sorry i’ve been mia, life is caca

[sunkissedscribbles]

Do You Still Care?

pairing: bf!mattheo x fem!gryffindor!chaser!reader

genre: angst

tw: mental health issues on y/n’s side (briefly) mentioned, mention of sex, swearing

word count: 5112

summary: mattheo’s plan to see if you still care backfires completely and ends with a breakup, but are you two able to resolve what's gone wrong?

Songs: the way i loved you - taylor swift (lyrics used), scared of my guitar - olivia rodrigo

a/n: thanks for the help @inksoakedparchment <3

masterlist

dividers by @chachachannah

The promise ring landed on the cold stone flooring of the Slytherin common room with a metallic clink as you dropped the silver jewellery to catch Mattheo’s attention. You were both disappointed and frustrated with him because the last thing you thought you’d see when stepping into the Slytherin commons was a girl, clearly not you, sitting in your boyfriend’s lap.

Mattheo, clearly enjoying himself as he had his hands on the girl’s waist, turned his head to look at you. The shine left his eyes as they met yours, but his gaze soon dropped to the ring he bought you for your second anniversary, which was now on the floor. It stirred something in him, even the thought of it not being on your finger, where it belonged didn’t sit right in him. But he had to hide his pain. He knew he couldn’t break now.

Your facial muscles hardened as you crossed your arms in front of your chest, eyeing your boyfriend angrily, the girl in his lap oblivious to everything around her as all she cared about was that she got the privilege of touching Mattheo Riddle.

“I’m breaking up with you,” you exclaimed coldly, closing off the emotions and locking them up before they could overtake you. If he plays the indifferent, so are you.

This snapped Mattheo out of his trance as he realized he took it too far, and that his plan backfired. “What? No, Y/N, you can’t just say that-“

“Well, yeah, I can,” you spat and shook your head as you eyed the girl from a year below you in his lap and with a scoff, you added, “We’re over, Mattheo.”

“No, you’re overreacting,” he practically pushed the girl off his lap as he got up to be at eye level with you. Walking up to you, he took the promise ring from the floor and held it up for you between his thumb and index fingers. “We’re good together, princess. I love you, you love me. You can’t break up with me,” he shook his head as he tried to hold a desperate sound back, trying hard to maintain this cold facade he mastered throughout the years — the one he only let fall completely when he was around you.

You pushed his hand with the ring away as you spoke up angrily, “But I’m not going to be a second choice every time you see a pretty girl!” and without warning, you turned around and walked out of the common room.

He was still shocked as he stared at your ring between his fingers. This was a stupid game, he shouldn’t have done this. You were his first real girlfriend. The first serious relationship and the last he wanted to ever end. Why did he flirt with a girl in the first place even? It was because you two had been arguing a lot lately, which only resulted in your relationship becoming more of a competition of who can shut down more and keep the indifferent, cold act up. You needed time because it had always been hard for you to express your feelings the moment they appeared — you needed to digest them and let them digest you before you could finally get them off your chest in one way or another. But the more you kept it for yourself the more he thought you were falling out of love with him and didn’t care about him anymore. That’s why he came up with this idea; to make you jealous to see if you did still care. He was only now thinking about how he should’ve given you the time you needed to open up.

You hadn't even talked to him for weeks, trying to push the pain of the breakup down by focusing on other things: your studies, friends, yourself and you were working on erasing Mattheo from your life. And how could you make yourself forget about that twat? By replacing him.

Not the most logical thing to do, for sure and it only complicated things even more, but you got together with Michael Corner from Ravenclaw. It wasn't quite a mature thing to do, especially when Michael did actually have feelings for you and you knew how you'd regret this later because it could only end in pain on one of your side. Because if he found out you — let's be real — used him, he'd get heartbroken and angry. But if he didn't find out, you'd be unhappy with him which he probably wouldn't even notice. So, this is how you got yourself trapped in this vicious circle.

Mattheo, on the other hand, had been acting like a complete douchebag since you'd broken up with him. Not that he had been that nice before. But now the number of the fights he got himself into had severely increased, he started acting colder than anytime else before, and he started looking through you like you weren't even there. He also lost interest in his studies almost completely, his marks dropping lower and lower each day. Or, well, his enquiry had decreased to practising the jinxes and hexes he'd learnt on other students, and getting rid of his excess energy and frustration on the Quidditch pitch. Each and every time he saw you, it just annoyed him so much. He didn't like you with this new other guy, he hated how you seemed to enjoy your life without him so easily. He despised Michael, hated the way he talked with that stupid Welsh accent, and how he always seemed to have his goddamn hand on your waist, right where he had his when you two were together. No one other than him had the right to touch you, in his opinion, and he couldn't stand the mental image of you with someone else. He missed seeing the way your face lit up every time you got excited about something, he missed how your pretty eyes were sparkling and shining when you looked at him. He missed you, and how it had been before things started going spiralling down with all those many and frequent arguments lately. He was miserable and as much as it is selfish, he wanted you to feel just as bad.

But leading the word back to you, erasing him from your life had been harder than you make it seem to be. But knowing his grades were dropping and seeing him acting like a total arse to everyone all you could think of is how this all is your fault, how you were the source of causes behind him changing this seriously.

By the time the day of the Gryffindor-Slytherin match came, students were betting on either team or even making it complicated as "Potter will catch the Snitch but Slytherin will win." Of course, they were; every year this is the biggest match between all houses since the rivalry is the worst between these two houses. It's even worse than a World Cup — it's like boys comparing their sizes. It's no different this year either. The Beaters aren't playing as 'nicely' as they do against Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff — they don't only hit the Bludgers with their bats but the Beaters, and occasionally, the Chasers of the opposing team, too, and the Chasers go on the speed they normally would.

You were manoeuvring with the Quaffle in your hand across the field while Mattheo tried to take you down by crossing your way. Yes, he wanted to win and wanted you to lose for once but despite being as angry and frustrated with you, he couldn't bring himself to tackle you down with a Bludger. How could he? Yes, you broke up with him but that doesn't mean anyone can hurt you. You are his princess, Merlin forbid anyone touching you.

"Twat," you muttered to yourself as Mattheo passes you by, but then set off with greater speed to score another against Slytherin, making it 140-100 for Gryffindor. Soon, Slytherin scored too, as Theo got the Quaffle in his hands, but as you set off to get the ball back, a Bludger coming from Goyle hit your broom. This caused you to lose your balance and your grip on the broom handle.

Mattheo watched in horror as you were hanging from your broom, in the air, among the flying balls and students. His mind immediately went blank as he witnessed the scene before his eyes and he forgot all about the game. Without thinking about it any further, he set off in your direction instantly and wrapped an arm around your waist to save you from falling, and before you’d known, you were sitting behind him on the broom.

“What are you doing?” you asked as you wrapped your arms around his torso.

“Making sure you don’t fall, you idiot,” he exclaimed, trying to ignore the rapid pounding of his heart in his chest as you held onto him tight. Merlin, he missed your body close to his so much.

“Thanks,” you muttered reluctantly, trying to push down ann the feelings that lingered in you for him still.

“Don’t mention it,” he shook his head with a cold tone as he took you to the ground to get your broom back from where it’d fallen. He didn’t want to let go of you, he wanted you to stay pressed up against him, just to feel your arms around him, your warm breath tickling the soft skin of his neck. But he knew he had to let go. You have moved on, you don’t even talk.

Muttering another ‘Thanks’ when you got off from behind him, you went to grab the broomstick. He hopped off his broom too, watching as your delicate figure walked away from him frustratedly, trying to keep up the image that this hadn’t affected him at all, which took him back to how much he hated your new boyfriend. He was supposed to be your boyfriend, you two should’ve lived happily ever after like you two had dreamed.

And now, after the brief moment together, he hated the Ravenclaw boy even more.

“Don’t forget the game is still going on. Or are you worried about your little boyfriend seeing us together?” the mocking words rolled off his tongue without him even thinking about what he was saying.

Your blood boiled at his comment, but when your eyes flickered to the Ravenclaw stands, seeing Michael in all Gryffindor colours, you somehow didn’t feel guilty for the Ravenclaw boy witnessing this scene with you and your ex-boyfriend. “Jealous?” You spat at Mattheo and rolled your eyes, gripping your broomstick.

He let out a sarcastic scoff and following suit, he rolled his eyes. “Jealous? Of the nerd?”

Of course he was jealous, but he couldn’t possibly admit it. This was a game of who is the most stubborn to admit their true feelings. And he wasn’t going to lose. But it took everything in him not to just push you back to the ground, climb on top of you and fuck kiss you until you forget your goddamn boyfriend’s name.

“Yeah. Jealous ‘cause I’m with him?” You stepped back. Michael is a nice guy, you had to give him that. But he’s not Mattheo. Michael wasn’t by far the one you wanted, not who you loved. He didn’t have those mesmerizing chocolate eyes that stared into your soul and shined when he was looking at you, he didn’t have the dark curls you instinctively raked your fingers through after a long day when he was lying on top of you, using your breasts as a pillow and listening to your heartbeat like it was a music you composed only for him.

His eyes remained on you, and that little statement made him snap on an instant. He threw his broom onto the ground to be able to step closer and pull you in by the waist and flush your body against his. By this time, he had completely forgotten about the match going on — not that you had thought about that at this moment either. It was just the two of you again, even if just for a moment, even if it was only arguing with your ex-boyfriend. “Damn right, I’m jealous. He gets to touch you. He gets to kiss you. I hate it.”

“He can see this. Us. Everyone can,” you instinctively gripped onto his upper arms as your bodies stayed pressed against each other while glaring into his eyes. You couldn’t deny that you missed this closeness with him. Because your heart still only desired him and had no space for anyone else in it.

Mattheo glanced around, seeing the people and players looking at the two of you. But he didn’t actually give a damn about that right then. He was completely focused on you, his eyes burning with jealousy and a hint of desire. His hands remained on your waist as he wanted nothing more than to just kiss you without a care in the world about the public. “Do I look like I care?”

“No. We both know that’s not something you normally do,” you freed yourself from his grip as you made the snarky comment about the girl in his lap before grabbing your broom again and setting off to continue the match. How dare he come at you with how jealous he is after what he’d done? Bloody git.

The team was cheering after Harry had caught the Snitch, right when Katie scored through a hoop one last time, making the final score 340-250 for Gryffindor. When Crabbe’s Bludger hit you and you fell off your broom, leading to the ominous conversation with Mattheo, the Gryffindor team lost you, a damn good Chaser for enough time for Slytherin to win over the points, so when Crabbe scolded Mattheo for technically saving you, no one was surprised.

The stout boy yelled after Mattheo, who was currently leaving the pitch, enraged. “What the fuck was that?” Crabbe echoed, following the curly-haired boy. “It’s our job to get those bloody Gryffindors off their brooms and I had Y/L/N! She’s the best Chaser on that fucking team! Without her, we would’ve won! But you had to go and save her like the damn Prince Charming you are?!”

Mattheo clenched his jaw as Crabbe shouted at him, his arms crossed against his chest. He knew that Crabbe was right. It wasn’t his smartest move to save your ass, but deep down he also knew that no one should harm you. He was not losing you.

“So what? You want me to let you take her down or something? And yes, I’m the one to save her because she’s the only goddamn person worth saving in this whole world.”

You overheard his words and your whole body froze. Suddenly, all other noises, your team’s and the other students’ happy cheers were tuned out, you could only hear Mattheo’s words repeating in your head. Your heart was already pumping ten times faster, and stronger as well, you could hear the drum, the fast da-dum in your ears. The only person worth saving? You?

“Fuck, mate! What happened to the dickhead you’ve been since you two broke up?” Crabbe continued spitting in Matt’s face. “I started to think you got some sense when she dumped you! She’s just a dumb Gryffindor who likes being the centre of attention, dude, grow up! She’s not like us, not worth your time! Just some basic ass bitch — but she’s fuckable, I give you that”

Mattheo could feel his anger and rage building within him, but he tried to keep his cool, knowing that if he snapped, there would be no stopping him. He glanced in your direction, seeing you standing in the distance, watching him and Crabbe. He clenched his jaw as Crabbe called you a 'dumb Gryffindor', as he said you’re not worth his time. But the last comment, about you only being some nice piece of meat, made him snap. He suddenly sprang closer to Crabbe and pushing him against the wall of the changing rooms, Mattheo pinned him the boy twice his size there, relentlessly gripping his Quidditch robes.

“Shut your goddamn mouth, you piece of shit,” he spat at Crabbe. “You don't even know her. You don't have the right to talk about her, you don't have the right to say her name! And if you dare talk about her like that again, I will tear you limb from limb!” he growled at the other boy in a low voice, his eyes darkened by anger and rage.

“Aw, Riddle, you gone soft for her. Is shagging her this nice?” Crabbe, being taller and bigger in a sense that’s not muscle mass laughed at Mattheo with a grin, not realizing the next thing Mattheo would do for sure was breaking his nose.

But before he could have done any damage to the boy, you pulled Mattheo away, knowing there would be nothing that could stop him from potentially sending Crabbe into a coma and himself in detention. For you. Because of you. Again.

When your hands grabbed onto his biceps to pull him back, his fingers instinctively softened on the fabric of Crabbe’s robes, knowing your touch like the back of his palm. He felt a sense of satisfaction wash over him as you held onto him and pulled him back, the urge to spin around and kiss you growing stronger than any, but he was still too pissed over Crabbe’s words.

“He’s not worth it. Just some douchebag,” you muttered to Mattheo when he started to try to escape your arms, Theo helping you by using a muting charm on Crabbe in order to keep him from saying anything else that would anger Mattheo even further. Partly angrily, you shoved him under a rain of cold water in the changing rooms to have him come to his senses, still in your Quidditch robes.

The cold shower snapped him out of the haze of anger Crabbe’s words put him into, his breathing returning back from feral to normal as he faced you in the shower, his hair soaking wet and his robes already dripping too — your clothes were somewhat damp as well by that time. “I’m not sure if I would’ve been able to stop myself back there,” he shook his head slightly.

“I know,” you just nodded, while in an internal fight between love and hate where you had no idea which one to let win.

Mattheo, knowing you more than anyone else, instantly knew what you were thinking, now that he was finally focusing on you and not on keeping the cold facade up in front of you. He could feel his dark curls stick to his forehead as they were soaking wet, still standing under the cold water. He looks at you for a moment before speaking up. “Just scream at me. Shout whatever you want.”

You wanted to scream, and shout, just like he had told you to. But you knew you had to stay away from him emotionally because it would only lead to you breaking down in front of him, which would probably end in a position with him that would be considered cheating on Michael. Your boyfriend. Mattheo wasn’t your boyfriend anymore, for fuck’s sake!

You shook your head. “No,” you scoffed and turned the water off before taking a step back. “Thanks for defending me. And saving my ass. But we’re over,” you said, your demeanour cold and distant as you turned around and walked away.

Mattheo's eyes widened in shock as he heard you say you were over, again. The panic and pain that washed over him got the best of him and quickly grabbed your arm again and turned you around, forcing you to face him again. He didn't want to lose you completely, not like this, not because of his own stupidity. "You don't mean that," he shook his head as he spoke up in desperation.

"Yes, I do," you scoffed angrily. No, in fact, you did not mean it at all. "You were openly flirting with that Slytherin, she was looking at you like she had given you head earlier! Oh, or had she? Why did you go and have to do that?"

Mattheo's expression turned from desperate to frustrated in no time as he clenched his jaw. He took a step closer to you, his voice growing more agitated. "Damn, Y/N, I was just messing around, I-"

"Messing around?" you cut in with an irritated scoff, covering the pain of betrayal. "When you had a girlfriend? Are you insane?" you pushed him back to make him stumble a bit and let go of your arm, on the verge of crying out of frustration and hurt.

At your refusal to trust him, his frustration and annoyance only grew, showing in a sigh and a scowl as you pushed him away. "I've never done anything with her! I would never do anything with her, Y/N. I don't want anyone else but you, don't you get that?"

"I don't care! I don't want someone who's doing things behind my back! Next time you get someone pregnant and tell me you were only messing around?!" you shook your head as the first set of tears started running down your cheek.

Mattheo felt his anger being replaced by a sense of shock and pain as he got accused of ever being able to cheat on you. "Damn it, Y/N, I'd never do anything with anyone else! I just... I just wanted to get a reaction out of you."

"Why?" you ran a frustrated hand through your hair while shaking your head. You started to lose it, not understanding the situation by now.

"Because I'm a moron, okay?" he scoffed bitterly. "Because I knew you'd get jealous if you saw me like that. We were falling out and I wanted to see if you still cared!" he spilt, to which a gobsmacked and frustrated expression got painted on your face. He thought you stopped caring about him?

I mean, sure, you two had started falling out and you two did argue a lot in the past month or two, but it wasn't at all because you didn't care about him anymore. You just couldn't quite word what was happening inside you. And right when you were finally ready and stepped into the common room to fill him in and come clean, he was sitting there, on the couch with another girl in his lap.

Suddenly the few little tears turned into rivers as fat drops rushed down both your cheeks, out of all the anger, frustration, sadness and disappointment that have built up in the past few weeks. You backed off, towards the door but as he saw you do that with the heavy rain of tears that were streaming down your face, his eyes welled up as well and he warily took a step closer to you to pull you into a tight embrace while muttering "No, no, no, don't cry." You gave in to the similarity of his touch and leaned into it for a second before coming to your senses and pulling away, knowing Michael was waiting for you outside.

Mattheo watched you suddenly abort the physical contact between the two of you, his expression quickly changing to confusion and disappointment as you stepped back. He didn't have to see the boy to know the reason behind your motions. "No, wait," he reached out and grabbed your wrist to turn you around with a desperate voice and a pleading tone. "Don't go. Please, don't go with him."

"I have to," you replied as you were forced to look into his eyes but you couldn't mask the pain anymore. "He's my boyfriend."

Those words felt like a punch to the gut for Mattheo, shattering the remains of his heart into a million little pieces. Hearing you call Michael Corner your boyfriend caused a wave of pain and anger to course through his veins. He clenched his jaw, his grip on your wrist only growing firmer the more desperate he became. "You don't have to, that's the point. You're with me, not him. You're mine, not his."

Your blood boiling, you freed your wrist from his tight grip exasperatedly. "You don't fucking own me, Mattheo Thomas Riddle"

"Damn it, I know I don't! I never said that. But we belong together, Y/N/N. You know you don't love him. Not like you love me."

He dares to call you by your nickname?

"Unfortunately," you spit, "that's not your fucking business anymore."

This is how we get to the present day. You broke things off with Michael yesterday after guilt got too much for you to handle, after realizing you can't possibly keep stringing him along like some dog, you can't use him to drown the feelings you have for Mattheo. And this is why you are currently in the music room on the fifth floor. It has always been like some sort of shelter for you. It's never judged, had a piano you played with preference and you could just sit down and live up to your artistic skills. You wrote your poems and songs here.

Mattheo knows. Not about the break-up but how much time you spend in this classroom. He sometimes accompanied you as well, while you two were together. So, when he doesn't find you in your room after hearing you ended things with Michael, this is where he looks for you.

You're sitting by the piano, playing the instrument in question, singing something you wrote a few days prior. And Mattheo's only watching, standing by the door, listening to your beautiful, usually soothing but now oh-so-troubled voice, paying attention to how your delicate fingers dance over the keys.

"...He can't see the smile I'm faking And my heart's not breaking 'Cause I'm not feeling anything at all And you were wild and crazy Just so frustrating, intoxicating, complicated Got away by some mistake and now

I miss screaming and fighting and kissing in the rain It's 2 a.m. and I'm cursing your name I'm so in love that I acted insane And that's the way I loved you Breaking down and coming undone It's a roller coaster kind of rush And I never knew I could feel that much And that's the way I loved you..."

It's a gasp that snaps you out of the song and your focus is instantly shifted the moment you turn to look at the person the sound came from, and you find yourself facing Mattheo. He's feeling guilty, but then again, the knowledge that you miss him makes him feel proud and a strange sense of happiness flows through him. It fills him with the hope that maybe, just maybe there is a chance to make this thing work between the two of you.

"Are you following me?" you ask, scoffing as you shut your feelings out again when looking at him.

"Maybe I am," he admits with a shrug, trying to feign nonchalance. He glances at the piano before shifting his attention back to you, and saying, "heard you playing."

"No shit, Sherlock," you bark bark back at him.

"This was about me, wasn't it?" he steps to the piano and looks down at you after closing the door.

"About comparing you and Michael," you correct him.

"And what's the point in that?"

"To remind myself how I love an obnoxious prick instead of someone who's kind and caring," you roll your eyes.

Mattheo scowls at your insult and crosses his arms defensively. "I'm not obnoxious. I'm not going to pretend to be someone else to fit your definition of 'kind' and 'caring.'"

"I miss my Mattheo," you exclaim coldly. "" Who was like that, with me. Who didn't try to make me jealous because he was fucked in the head and thought I didn't care!"

He sighs in frustration, running his hand through his hair. "I still am that Mattheo. I never stopped being him. I was just trying to get a reaction out of you, to see if you cared at all. Nothing with that girl was serious."

You scoff. "And now you expect me to just forgive and forget for choosing not to talk about the very obvious problem but to go the easier way?"

Exasperated by the conversation, he shakes his head. "No. No, I don't expect you to do that so easily. I know what I did was wrong, okay? I know I messed up. But I was angry and frustrated because we were fighting almost every day for weeks and you weren't making it any easier by not telling me about how you were feeling. I-I was worried about you and then I was worried for us, for the future we've planned. I acted unreasonably and the next thing I know is you taking your ring off and me losing you because of my own stupidity."

Taken aback, you shake your head with thoughts of all kinds going through your head. He still loves you, how could you deny him? "I told you I had something going on that I wasn't able to talk about yet," you shake your head.

"I know. I know and I'm sorry. I should've given you the time and I should've been patient. But I feared I was losing you," he lets out a guilty, ragged breath. "I'm not begging you, but I'm not giving up on you, on us either. I'm sorry, I miss you," he says, tapping his fingertips on top of the piano as he looks down at you.

Letting out a relieved sigh at hearing the genuineness of his tone and words, you get up from the instrument and step toward him, taking his hand in yours, thus making both of your hearts skip a beat before they start to beat more rapidly. The truth is, you don't think he could ever do anything that'd make you stop loving him.

"I'm sorry and I miss you too," you reply softly, making him smile while the shine returns to his chocolate eyes as he looks at you. He reaches into his pocket, then holds the promise ring you've taken off out for you. He's been having it in his pocket since that day, and on his nightstand at night. "May I?"

With a small yet genuine smile, you nod and hold your hand out for him, and after returning it to where it belongs, he kisses your hand gently. "I'll never let you go again."

"You better."

taglist: @inksoakedparchment @mqstermindswift @reys-letters

[peachigummi]

test my luck ꢾ꣒ mattheo riddle.

summary: enemy to lovers! Mattheo and y/n have been each other's biggest haters since year 1, they're in their final year at Hogwarts. Mattheo finally pushes y/n to the edge, with his venomous words and guilt tactics.

pairing: enemy! mattheo x fem ravenclaw! reader

warnings: not for the faint of heart! mature themes/language. mentions of abuse. slow burn? bullying angst!! oh my god angst, but ends with some bittersweet fluff I promise! attempted suicide sorry (after reading this back, i dont mean it to be manipulation or to glorify or romanticize but! shit!! for a plot?)

note: i haven't written anything in literal years, the pov is going to shift a lot so bear with me. i honestly just lost any sense of motivation. but something in me just bloomed. you wont see any hp things on this blog it is my journal and i feel like sharing! maybe a part 2 in the making. if this gets enough response.

word count: 6,828

(slightly not really proofread or fan fact checked? if that's a thing ha)

playlist: should i create..? you know damn well the smiths would be in it! like Bigmouth Strikes Again?? that is mattheo!

reblogs & comments are so appreciated! i hope you enjoy <3

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

It was the start of your last year of Hogwarts, it was an okay time. You personally didn’t get into too much trouble, you liked to stick by yourself for the most part. You studied hard because your muggle parents were still confused about you being a witch, and what you would get out of it. It was hard to process that information, it was a thing of fairy tales. You had to prove yourself in this new world. That…that was hard when you were constantly looking over your shoulder for Mattheo Riddle.

“What’s a whore doing in my seat?” Speak of the damn devil. 

You turned to look at him with a sarcastic smile, “Well hello to you too Mattheo.” You nod at the three other boys that were with him, each of their arms crossed. “Draco. Blaise. Theodore.” You return to look at Mattheo, “you know last time I checked… there are no assigned seats in Potions.” You looked around and the class was still fairly empty.

“Think again and think hard.” Mattheo spoke to you in a cold shallow tone, he barely looked at you. He circled around the table you were at, your eyes following him. He suddenly stopped right behind your chair, yanking it back. There was a loud scrape, the few students that were in the room turned to look at the scene unfolding. You didn’t meet any of their eyes. Mattheo slammed his hand on the side of the table, making you flinch. You hated that you reacted that way. He grabbed the back of your ponytail, forcing your head forward where his hand was, “Look.” M. Riddle. D. Malfoy. B. Zabini. T. Nott. Their names were carved into the side. You grabbed Mattheo’s hand, the one that was still holding onto your ponytail, you tried to pry his icy cold fingers off. It only made him tighten his grip, he bent down to get close to your face, “I suggest you move unless you want me to carve my name onto your face as well.” he spat and finally let go. 

“Whatever,” you gathered your books, “this seat sucks anyways. I’ll go hang out with Professor Snape up front.” You rolled your eyes as Draco lit up a cigarette, handing the pack to the boys to share. If you’re going to try and get away with smoking, yeah do it in the back of the class I guess.

“You really like being a teacher’s pet don’t you? That’s why you’ve always got your nose up Snape’s ass.” 

“Seriously fuck off! Go continue to lose brain cells with your sorry excuse of friends.” You push the seat back and let it topple over. You mentally slapped yourself, you shouldn’t be feeding into his remarks.

“That’s cute sunshine, I’ll bet you have a hard time standing up for yourself in every aspect of your pathetic life. Do better.” Mattheo smugly said, smoking the cigarette that was in his hand.

You opened your mouth to speak but decided against it, you ended up just flipping him off. He did the same, giving you an annoyed look. You took the seat next to Hermione in the front of the class. Ugh! That Mattheo. “Are you okay?!” She asked, shooting daggers at the group, turning to you again “How can you put up with that? We have to tell someone..” you shook my head and whispered, “it’ll only make things worse. I don’t want to be a snitch. It’s already been six years anyways… how can one more year really change things.”

Blaise laughed, “you like that don’t you mattheo? Isn’t she so cute when she’s angry, you like feisty girls, yeah?”

Draco chuckles, “oh he definitely does, too bad she’s a stupid bitch.” The group laughs together.

You could hear them hollering from the back. You tried to calm yourself down and pay attention to the different measurements of the potions you were being taught. Maybe I could switch this class to a different time. You thought, focusing back to the lesson when Professor Snape mentioned something about needing to be in groups of three for an upcoming project.

Before Snape could assign anyone, Mattheo spoke up, “Sir I’d like to work with Theodore, if that’s permitted.” Snape looked annoyed by his interjection but answered, “No, Theodore will be with Y/N and Draco. Nothing will change. I already made the groups, they will be posted near the storeroom.” He gave Mattheo a dirty look.

You could hear Draco scoff but he didn't say anything. Yet. He kept to himself and his buddies while they continued to smoke and do other things to piss Professor Snape off before the class was finally dismissed. I guess I didn’t need to worry about being in a pair with Mattheo. You still wanted to protest against the group choice, but nothing would come of it. You knew better than to go against Snape’s final word. Theodore wasn’t such a horrible person, he actually can be pretty smart and helpful, if you got him alone. Otherwise when he was with even just one of his buddies, he was just like them - a jerk. It was Draco you won’t be able to stand.

“Don't do anything stupid, Y/L/N, and we might actually do okay in this project.” That was Draco himself, walking over with Theodore.

You ignored his comment, “where should we meet and when?”

“We can use one of the abandoned classrooms. Before the lunch break?” Theodore suggested, handing a note with directions.

“Okay. See you.” You said as bluntly as possible, gathering your book. You went to grab the ingredients your group might need. 

“Teachers pet!” Draco yelled after.

⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝

Of course you were the first to the abandoned classroom, you had been waiting for nearly twenty minutes before either of them showed. When they did, they didn’t bother to apologize, though you didn’t expect them to. Even with smart comments from both boys, you finished discussing the project and the presentation at a decent hour. It was quiet as you started to collect your things, Draco excused himself earlier to collect a package.

“Y/N, why is it that you hate Mattheo so much?” Theodore broke the silence, carefully watching you wrap the vials carefully. You paused, taken back. “He’s been trying to get a rise out of you since day 1, why?” He continued nonchalantly, leaning back in his chair. He pulled a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket.

You quickly grab them out of his hand and put it in your own breast pocket, “don’t smoke around me.” 

This made him annoyed, “Hey! I need those! They keep me calm!” 

“No you don't, you've been fine this entire time without them. I’m not trying to raise your blood pressure right now. You’re fine.” You give him a good look, maybe he was playing dumb. How could he not know? Theodore and Mattheo were best friends; they must have already talked about this, “I only hate Mattheo because he hates me. It’s all there's to it…” I think.

He lingers for a moment after you answered him, there is something else you haven’t said, “tell me what you think. There’s always some deeper reason for this sort of stuff” He rested his chin on his hand. See this is why I favored Theodore from the rest of his group, but should I still trust him? He could use this information against me. I took the chance.

“Over the years I suspected it was just plainly because I was a mudblood and not some perfect pure-bred like you folk.” You continued to wrap the vials carefully. 

Theodore rolled his eyes, “He does have a thing against people with different backgrounds than his own. He thinks everyone in this school should be from a wizarding family. But that’s not the case with you.” He grabbed a vial too, helping me wrap them, “He’s never said anything about your parents or how they’re muggles.” Mattheo would talk about me when I wasn’t around? Why would he do that? You looked into his eyes searching for some joke or underlying lie. There was none I could detect.

You recall the moment aloud when you first laid your eyes on Mattheo, “It was at the train station. Our first year. I remember hugging and kissing my parents goodbye, not wanting to let go of them. I turned around to go on the train and there was a much much smaller Mattheo staring at me with wide beady little eyes that were glossed over with tears. He was cute in that split second - ” You couldn’t help but smile at the memory. Theodore watched you carefully. You straightened your lips, continuing, “ - before he stuck a solid wad of gum in my hair.”

Theodore bellowed, nearly falling backwards in his chair, “Yeah that sounds like him, that’s a classic stunt he’d pull off. There was this one time in year 5 when he stuck gum on the chair of one of the professors before class…I never saw her so mad after she sat down and got up, her chair nearly followed her around!” He tried to settle himself down, “Mattheo always had a thing for doing stuff to people and acting as if it’s all a joke.”

“It’s not a joke when you have to cut your hair super short in order to remove the gum. I felt so naked without my long hair, it was so beautiful! And he made it worse when he made a point to show how ugly I was to everyone in the Great Hall. I even remember you laughing just like you are now.” You pushed his shoulder.

Theodore smirked, “yeah we all laughed, how couldn’t we?! You looked ridiculous before you grew it back out. We used to call you Baldy McEgg-head. You’d get so mad, only making us laugh harder.” At least someone cherished the memory. You rolled your eyes.

It grew quiet again, “have you ever met Mattheo’s parents? Has he ever talked to you about them?”

“No. I’ve never met them. He’s never really talked about his parents or his life outside Hogwarts. I don’t think he’s on great terms with his dad. He always stayed with them during the breaks, and wasn't ever allowed to spend it with us or here at hogwarts. He missed out on a lot of important hang outs. I wished he was there for them” Theodore explained, he sounded disappointed and angry.

“Do…do you think he’s jealous of my home life? The affection I was receiving in front of him at the train station…” 

He thinks for a moment, “I suppose it could be a possibility…hard to tell. He doesn’t allow himself to show too much emotion, again, probably has to do with the way he must have been raised.”

You wanted to do more research into Mattheo’s family…but how? “Thanks for this Teddy. You’ve given me a lot to think about.” You finished packing everything into your bag. Before you left you tossed him back his pack of cigarettes, “see you later.”

⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝

You let out a sigh of relief, to be alone once again. Mettheo Riddle, what secrets do you hide? You made your way to the library instead of the Great Hall. After a few hours of searching around the library, you finally find a section of massive thick old leather bound books. You blew on the covers, these books contained a record of all the wizards and witches that had attended Hogwarts. Kind of like a yearbook, but it told you what came of them. Who married who, what did they end up doing after Hogwarts, etc. a rare but quite the gem of a find. “R… R.. R” you whispered, touching the book ends. You look at the bottom of the bookshelf finding the one that contained the last names that began with R. You found it, and you began to look through for the name “Riddle.”

Just as you got to the last name, you felt a wave of shame. You were snooping into somebody’s life. Their history. This is wrong. If Mattheo wanted to talk about his home life, surely he would have. He was hiding something. There were heavy slow footsteps coming around the corner of the aisle. You snapped the book shut holding it behind you and you looked at the section opposite of where you just were. Mattheo, they were his steps, you could tell. 

“Of course you’d be in the library doing nerd stuff.” He doesn’t sound happy, but also when is he truly ever?

You looked at him then around yourself, “who me? A nerd for being in the library?” I mean he wasn’t wrong but ..yeah. You still point at him, “Where are you then? Because it seems to be you’re also in the library with…” you fake gasp, “...Me! Making you a nerd too!” You hoped that confused him, you shifted the leather book behind your back. It was getting heavy by the second.

“I’m ditching classes to smoke,” He takes a rip of a cigarette that was nearly at its end, he blows the smoke in your face. “Nerd.”

“Whoop-dee-doo what a stellar insult Mettheo. I’m a ravenclaw. What did you expect? I’d rather be a nerd than a-” You took a step closer to him squinting then widening your eyes in horror, “oh my god Mattheo did you lose a tooth from all that smoking?” He quickly shoved his pinky into his mouth feeling his teeth in a panic. If there was one thing he cared more about than cigarettes it was keeping up with his good looks. Uh did I just describe him as good looking?

He actually laughed once he finished counting his teeth, “They’re perfectly fine. I care about taking care of myself, unlike you. How often do you wash yourself? I doubt you even brush your hair. I did you a favor when you had to cut it off. You have no sense of style, even with a selection of uniforms! Why do you dress like it’s winter all year? You dress like a peasant from the 1820’s”

Okay ouch, that kinda hurt. You’ve been insecure with your body, you always struggled with that. Dressing in sweaters helped hide it. You didn’t know how to respond, maybe he's right. You couldn’t stand up for yourself to save your life. You just shoved his shoulder with your own and walked past him. 

Matthew continues to follow you, “did you just shove me you twat?” He snatched the book out of my arms holding it a ways away from you, “If you’re going to do sneaky shit, don’t do it so obviously. Is this a diary or something?” Your eyes widened trying to take it back, but he held it up high above his head easily with one hand.

“Yes! It’s my diary, it’s where I gush about the god almighty perfect Mattheo!” I sarcastically said, still hoping he wouldn’t look at the title of the book. “No stupid! I dont have one, I just got done working on the potions project with your buddies. Hand me back the book.”

“Oh I bet you three had lots of fun. Did you talk about me while you were there? Did you talk about how you can’t take your eyes and mind off of me? You’re clearly obsessed, following me around like a love sick puppy. You pop up wherever I happen to be.” 

“Ew no never.” You fought your expression back, did Theodore tell him something? Fuck. “Draco left, it was just Teddy and I. we spent it kissing the whole time. Super carefree. His lips surprisingly didn't taste like cigarettes, they were pretty sweet.”

Mattheo’s smug smirk fades even before you finish your sentence. He hated how you used a nickname for his friend. He despised the thought of you kissing anyone, especially his mates, “fucking liar. THEODORE, not TEDDY, doesn’t like you. He just tolerates you because he has to. He wouldn’t be caught dead kissing you. You’re disgusting and I pity anyone who has the displeasure of touching you in any way other than to harm you. 

You hold your hands up, “woah woah woah, whatever makes you sleep peacefully at night. Why else did Teddy take me to an abandoned classroom, it was our chance to get away together especially after Draco conveniently left.” You couldn’t believe you were lying through your teeth, this would forsure come back and bite you in the ass even harder. You haven’t even had your first kiss yet. You haven't even been romantically linked with anyone before. 

“Stop fucking calling him Teddy, it’s Theodore!”

“Can you guys get a room or SHUT UP! For Merlin’s Sake” A random student yelled out at us. Slamming their hand on the table. You were embarrassed because you took pride in keeping the library a sacred place to study or relax.

“Piss off. Go find a room of your own instead of listening to us talking. You must be a first year, if you’re still so sensitive to other’s voices in the library.” He continued to raise his voice, “We’ve been like this for years! Blah blah blah!!”

“Stop it Mattheo.” You shove him again, mouthing to the student, I'm very sorry. With the distraction you go and grab the book in Mattheo’s hand but he quickly readjusts his grip.

“You don’t have to apologize for me, sunshine. You should apologize to him for your existence, do everyone a favor will you?” He finally looked down at the title of the book, Who Were They and Where They Now?: Hogwarts. He carefully used a single finger to pry it open to where the fabric bookmark was, immediately seeing his own surname. He gives a manic laugh looking up at your face and slamming the book down to the floor, “you stalker. You are obsessed with me.” 

He lunged at you. You took a step back, you hit the shelving. Your heart was beating so fast you thought you would pass out from the red handed guilt. 

“What kind of information were you looking to find huh?” He pointed a finger at me, his eyes ice cold. Looking to murder. Your head suddenly hurt, there was a high pitched ringing that wouldn't stop. You went to cover your ears to find some relief but Mattheo grabbed you and shook hard, “what the FUCK did you think you would find? Tell me. Tell me NOW!” You didn’t know what to say he just stared hard at you, his nails digging into your arms. You winced. He began to speak fast and harshly as if he knew, as if you had said something. 

“Did you really expect you would find out that I had a happy home? Do you think I’m happy being born in some dingy hovel? Do you think I'm overjoyed to be related to and be abused by my father? He beat me black and blue and hated my existence. My mother just sat there silently watching. She doesn’t care. Would YOU be thrilled knowing that you came from a long line of dark wizards who’ve caused pain and suffering to people for centuries.” 

You began to cry, “Mattheo..”

“You honestly think I would be so proud of that to tell everyone?” He scoffed.

“Mattheo you’re hurting me…”

“I. Don’t. Care.” His deep brown eyes didn’t leave yours, “you should have minded your own business. Stupid girl prying into my history. What do you care? Did you think I'd be less of a jerk to you if I had a perfect loving family like yours? ”

“I’m sorry…I’m sorry! I .. I.”

“Shut up. You don't get to speak. I don't need you feeling sorry for me, I can handle myself. This is probably the worst you’ll ever experience.”

“Y-You’re right. I’m.. I’m grateful I never had to e-endure that” You were one stuttering mess. 

He moves one hand to cup your mouth to shut you up again, “what did i say. I don't want to hear another word out of your mouth.” He rose the other up threateningly. 

You closed your eyes. Do it Mattheo. Please. I deserve it. I’m sorry I tried to pry. Do it. He was surprised by your offer and looked at you in confusion, his expression didn’t change though. “What kind of sick request is that?” You open your eyes again to meet his. Both of you were in disbelief, did he just-? “Why would you want me to beat you? Because you feel bad for me? I don’t want nor need your sympathy. Trying to act like a saint that's willing to be my punching bag whenever I want.” he scoffed, letting your mouth free, taking a single step back away from you.

“Then why are you so mean to me? Tell me that. When I first laid eyes on you during our first year at the train platform, I thought we would be friends.” You wrapped your arms around yourself, rubbing where his fingers had dug into you.

“You’re a prissy annoying know-it-all goody two shoes that thinks she’s better than everyone. You can’t help but chime in whenever you have the chance and show off.”

“So it’s just my existence then huh, nothing else to it?” You felt your own anger finally rise, you wiped your tears off your cheek trying to regain composure.

“Pretty much. You’re unbearable. You are the most unexciting thing I’ve ever encountered.”

“Let me fix that for you.” Your eyes betrayed you and let the gates open, the flood starting to spill once more. Before Mattheo could get another hold of you you quickly shuffled off, dropping your things. Already feeling limp. Just hoping your legs would carry you a bit more.

Mattheo rolls his eyes, “tsk so stupid.” He stood there staring at the place you once were. Thinking about what occurred when he processed what you said, “Y/N! Hey I-..” He began to follow in the direction you went off to.

Your shuffle turned into a run, you just needed privacy. Anything. Your dorm was too far away, so you went into the nearest girls bathroom and into the furthest stall to sob.

Mattheo reaches the hallway, looking to his left and right. Fuck where did she go? He closes his eyes to listen closely. He heard something faint and went with his gut.

You sat down beside the toilet, hitting your head with your fist. “Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.” You heard a familiar giggle, “go away Myrtle. Now’s especially not the time.” 

Bathroom, you had to be in the bathroom. He went inside not caring if another girl would see him, “Y/N? You’re in here, I know you are. Look, just come out will you?” Instead Moaning Myrtle came forth.

“Are you looking for me?” she bit her finger looking him up and down, “we don't get that many cute boys in here.” She sighed, still admiring him, “Nevertheless, shame on you. How could someone as delicious as you treat someone so horribly.” She laughed in his face.

“Shut up. I don't need to be lectured by some depressed ghost. Why are you even here. Go away.” He went further inside the bathroom pushing doors in, “actually have you seen a girl come in, Y/N?”

“Yes!” She said excitedly pointing to the last stall, “She’s coming with me and we’ll get to haunt together. It’ll be so fun to not be alone anymore” She broke into another high pitched laugh, clapping her hands with joy. 

“What the hell is she on about?” That’s when he noticed broken glass from a mirror. His heart drops, “you’ve got to be kidding me…” He rushed over pushing the final door in, but this one wouldn’t budge. “Y/N. It’s Mattheo..” his heart drops and he pales when he notices blood start to seep out from under the door, you’ve hurt yourself. “Y/N!” He says again louder, “open the door! Open it right fucking now! Y/N!!”

You didn’t want him to see you like this, no one should have to see this. You try to hold the door closed but you were losing your strength to do anything. The blood made it slippery so your hand slid down, “M-m-mattheo haven’t..you said enough?”

Myrtle pointed to the glass, “look how eager she was! Damaging school property to break free” She did a couple spins in the air, “any minute now!”

“That’s it. I’ve had enough.” Mattheo raised his wand and shot a blast at the lock, it broke open and he flung the door open to reveal you laying on the floor. His heart seemed to stop completely. “Shit! Dammit! Y/N!” 

The blast frightened you, “No. Mattheo. No.” You could only make out his dark curly haired head. You tried to swat him away before losing consciousness due to blood loss. 

Professor Snape rushed in after hearing a blast, “what the bloody hell is going on in here, Mr. Riddle.”

Mattheo looked at him with an angry and panicked expression, “I need her in the infirmary right now.” He said through gritted teeth. He leans over you, grabbing a large bunch of toilet paper and quickly kneels next to you. Applying pressure on your bleeding left wrist.

Snape understood immediately, “Keep the pressure on the wrist, Riddle.” He was able to pick you up easily, but he was not enthusiastic about having your blood staining his robes, “with HASTE Riddle! Follow me!” And off they went to the infirmary. Once there Snape quickly laid you on a bed gently before Madame Pomfrey took over. 

She was able to stop and clean the bleeding, while she examined the cut striation she asked both Snape and Mattheo what blood type they were, “The girls lost too much blood, she needs a transfusion.” She began to stitch the wrist, the cut was near vertical to the veins. 

Mattheo in a less than a split second looked at Pomfrey, “Am I able to donate for her.” He didn’t say it as a question, he wanted it to be a command. 

“As long as you share the same blood type then yes, sweetheart. Please, fresh blood is much better. We can’t wait more time, Ms. Y/L/N is so terribly pale. She can have a seizure any minute if we dont get more blood to her brain” still carefully pulling at threads. His hand was still holding yours. 

He nods impatiently, less talking, more action. “I’m AB-” he gulped. One of the rarest blood types in the world, “what type is she?” he began to roll up his sleeve even before Pomfrey was able to respond.

“Goodheavens! Thank Merlin. She’s AB- as well!” She sighs looking up at the ceiling for a split second, calling for a nurse to help set up the transfusion. He took a seat on your left, watching the nurse insert a needle into each of your arms. He didn’t flinch, but he gave her a threatening look when she inserted a needle into your arm, thinking she would bring more pain to you. 

Madame Pomfrey stood up, finished. “If it was with a straight razor and not a glass shard, I don’t think i would have been able to-” she let her voice die down after seeing how pale Mattheo began to look too, she shut her mouth as to not worry him more with what the other alternative was. He couldn’t hide his guilt. His eyes were alternating between your face and his blood that was slowly running into your body through a single tubing. He desperately needed it to go faster. 

“Is there a chance she would wake up with problems with her veins or her nerves?” He asked.

Pomfrey patted the boy's shoulders, “Let’s hope not, let’s hope they hold. With the basics in place, there’s nothing a little magic can’t help.” This eased him, “Ms. Y/L/N wont wake for a couple of hours. She needs to be watched to make sure she doesn’t rip my stitching job or we will go back to square one my boy. Can I trust you?”

“Is that really a necessary question?” He bit his tongue, “Sorry, yes I will watch over her. I need to be here when she wakes up.”

“Best she gets a psychiatrist too, but that's a later issue to address. We’ll focus on physical healing for now.” Pomfrey looked at Mattheo curiously, isn’t this one of the trouble-making slytherin boys? She shook her head and walked out to attend to another student.

“Y/N i’m here.” He studies your face, deep with regret and guilt. He holds your right hand tightly, he whispers softly, “it’s okay, you’re going to be alright..”

“Riddle.” Snape was still watching everything from the shadows of the room, “What happened to my best student, why is he in this condition?”

“It’s my fault, Professor…I was making a fool out of myself. I was treating her like hell… it went too far. She must have had a breakdown and she-” he couldn’t bear to describe your condition out loud.

Snape held a hand up to silence him from saying more, “rather than giving you detention for the rest of your time here at Hogwarts. I will need you to attend all the girl’s classes she will be missing in her recovery. She must not fall behind.”

“Yes sir, I understand. I’ll do it.” 

Snape turned to leave but came back toward the boy and yanked the cigarette box from his uniform pocket, “none of these for you either, especially as you are sharing blood with Y/N. She never liked you smoking.” and off he turned around to change his own robes from the blood.

“Anything for you.” he whispered towards you, “please wake up soon.”

⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝

You began to stir, your eyes fluttering open. You looked around in a panic. You were incredibly sore, especially your left wrist. It stung badly. Mattheo had fallen asleep in the chair when he jolted awake to the sound of your movements, “Calm down, relax, you’re in the infirmary. You’re safe.” He couldn’t help but feel like he just lied about it being safe, if he was the cause of this.

“M…m..Mattheo” You began to cry again, “I’m so sorry.” You went to reach out and hug him but flinched. You followed the red transfusion line to him, “oh Mattheo.”

He sat up to lean towards you. He shushes you and wipes your tears with the back of his hand, ‘you need to calm down and take it easy, princess. You’ve lost a lot of blood and you're still weak. This is just to bring your levels up, you’ll start to feel better soon.”

You stared at his beautiful eyes, ones that had held so much hate but there seemed to be no trace of it now. You felt guilty, I acted like a coward. “Myrtle said it was going to be quick and painless. I’m so stupid I couldn’t even do it right.” You felt another wave of tears coming but  you tried to choke them down.

“No youre not, you’re not at fault.” He couldn’t help but chuckle cautiously as what he was about to say, “you might be a know-it-all but you just need to have more control with your thoughts. Don’t listen to Moaning Myrtle. Don’t be hard on yourself, you're not stupid. You did nothing wrong.”

“I thought I was doing you a favor.” you were so exhausted. But you needed to get this out before you lost consciousness again. With your good arm you help his hand tightly, looking him in the eyes again to emphasize the point you were going to make, “Mattheo, I really am idiotic. I Am. I did think you had a perfect life, it didn’t cross my mind that you had it any other way. You were always carefree and just let's be honest, acting like you're’ better than everyone else. It was wrong of me to have assumed that.”

He frowns. “Don’t apologize. There’s no way to tell what someone is going through ultimately. I..cope in my own way.” He softly strokes your cheek with this thumb.

If it wasn’t for the pain, you would have thought you were asleep. Dead. Or in purgatory. A realm between realms. No way the mattheo I’ve known my whole life is sitting beside me looking..lovingly at me? You felt horrible. Did I just manipulate him into caring about me? Just hours ago he was mocking and saying nasty things as usual. 

Mattheo could see the look of disbelief in your eyes from the way he was behaving, “Y/N. I’m caring for you. No you’re not dreaming or in some other realm. You’re here, with me, thank Merlin. You didn’t manipulate me, you woke me up.”

You sat up too quickly for your own good, your head feeling light “How are you doing that?” 

He shook his head, “Another time. I’m really sorry for how I treated you. You think I’m just some asshole, but I'm more than that really. I want to be more than that. No one else has gotten to see the real me.”

“Mattheo, I see you.” Despite your pain, you reach out to cup his face between your hands. For a second, you saw the boy you first laid your eyes on that first year at the train station. The same sad eyes, “I see you.”

He sighed into your touch, it was a soft and innocent gesture he was not used to. He chuckled softly, and gently placed his hands over yours, keeping them there. He didn’t want to lose the touch, “I know you do, and that’s exactly why I'm afraid.”

You couldn’t help but imagine - how different our lives could have been for the last 6 years, if he would have just introduced himself to me. Explained why he looked so pained when I was with my family. “My parents would have welcomed you as their own” you explained your thoughts to him. “I could have protected you. You could have visited me during the holiday breaks. I know saying it will not change the past and what has happened to you. But I see you Matty.”

“yeah..it’s too late to change the past, I should’ve but I didn’t think you’d understand. It doesn’t excuse the way I treated you all these years, Y/N.” His voice got shaky, his eyes starting to water. He was a mess.

“No, don't you start Mattheo please, baby.” You brought him into a hug, again ignoring your throbbing wrist. “Easy now.” you soothed the curls that were behind his neck. They felt so soft.

Mattheo rested his head on your shoulder and held you tightly, softly crying into you. He wrapped his arms around you and held onto your shirt like he was afraid to let go. He couldn’t remember the last time someone treated him like this, it felt so new and overwhelming.

You kissed the top of his head, inhaling - cigarettes. You hated that he smoked but at this moment the smalle was comforting. He let out a deep sigh. You broke the hug only because you scooted over on the bed, and tugged him to lay beside you. We watched you, he looked so tired. He nodded in agreement with a small smile, he carefully laid beside you, making sure to be careful of your condition.

You gave him a reassuring look that wasn’t hurting you. I’m okay. You looked at your arms touching side by side, still connected by the tubing. You couldn't help but laugh, “Matty isn’t it ironic? All this pure-blood and mudblood talk and look” you carefully lifted the tube, “we’re still one and the same foundation.” You smiled at him, helping wipe his tear stained cheeks now. “Thanks for your donation to me.”

He too couldn't help but grin back at you. He couldn’t believe you weren’t pushing him away for how he treated you, or for how vulnerable he was at the moment, “any time, but please actually don’t do that ever again. You made me worried to death..”

“No I won’t. Pinky promise.” You held out your pinky for him to take. 

He took it in his own nodding, “good, you’re stuck with me now.”

With our pinkies still woven, you  looked at the size difference. You turned toward his Bambi like eyes, “let's start this over on the right foot. Better late than never? Hi i’m Y/N, [insert some fun facts about yourself].”

Mattheo smiled more widely, blushing his pinky did make yours look kiddish. It was adorable. He gave you a playful look, smirking at you like he usually would, “Nice to meet you there, Y/N. I’m Mattheo, the sexiest guy you’ll meet in Hogwarts.”

There’s my Mattheo. “And you promise to…?” you coaxed him.

He gave your pinky another squeeze, “to try to be nice and kind to you, and avoid bullying you….as well as to not smoke in your presence…you happy?”

You kind of nodded, holding in your laugh, “aaaand…?”

He looked at you, trying to read what you wanted him to say. He gave your pinky another, slightly rougher, squeeze. “And I promise not to throw a wad of gum into your beautiful hair?”

“Bingo. Mr. Riddle, that’s what I was ultimately looking for.” You let go of his pinky, “but it is nice to know the other stuff too.” you waved your hand like it was nothing, but it was my everything. He gave you a sarcastic scoff, he liked that you were still acting like your old self too. 

You kissed his cheek and his face went redder than a cherry, you acted shocked “woah did I just make Mattheo, the sexiest guy in Hogwarts BLUSH?!” You slapped your hands against your cheeks in play disbelief, slightly regretting the pain it brought to your arms. He quickly shook his head and blushed even more than originally thought possible, he tried to hide his face away from you, “S-shut up! That’s a lie! I was not blushing, it’s just your imagination.”

You laughed at his reaction, taking his hand in mine once more comparing the hand sizes. You put my head against his shoulder, before dropping your jester attitude. Making him form another pinky promise with you. “Mattheo, I promise to be there for you. I want to protect you. You shouldn’t live in the shadow of your home life, especially not alone. Just as much as I’m stuck with you. You’re stuck with me. That’s my promise to you.”

His heart beat fast, it nearly melted his heart to hear your promise. He let out a deep, shaky breath. He couldn't stop the small tear that rolled down his cheek, he didn’t bother wiping it. He just leaned his head down to rest on your own, “deal…”

There was a pause, before you spoke up again.“I know we just started the year but please, come back home with me this Christmas holiday when it rolls around.” You blinked up at him. You started to feel really sleepy, that was to be your last request and plea for the moment, “I’ll show you how muggles get down to holiday business.”

Mattheo looked down at you and smiled softly, as your eyes were struggling to stay open, “yea sure, i’ll spend the holidays with you” he wasn’t sure how he would, but he would worry about that later.

Many promises were made this day, and you intended to keep each and every single one of them. In many ways, you knew this would still be the same Mattheo you had always known, but it would all be so different now. You managed to break through his extremely guarded shell, the hardest way possible. But it needed to desperately be broken.

You turned Mattheo’s head to look at you, he met your gaze. The corner of his lip curled up as he knew what you were about to do. He let you take the lead, closing his eyes. You kissed his lips slowly, cherishing how it felt. You wanted more of him, but your body was pleading for rest. You hugged his arm and surrendered.

He couldn’t help but touch his lips afterwards with his fingertips. He watched as you gave in to exhaustion, he followed your lead and let out a deep sigh before closing his eyes, “Goodnight princess.” Mattheo fell asleep to the sounds of you breathing and the sound of your heartbeat, they would surely become one of the most blissful lullabies to be heard by him. He intertwined his fingers with yours, he wouldn’t ever let go.

[riddlesrizzler]

Best of Both Worlds

summary: "Who would have thought that a girl like me, would double as a superstar." characters: pop star! reader. theo nott (brother). enzo berkshire (best friend). draco malfoy (manager). blaise zabini (enzo's friend) warnings: this does not have mattheo in it yet! word count: 6.7k a/n- this is strictly based off hannah montana the movie. so the plot will be heavily similar to the movie.

The bass of the crowd’s anticipation thudded under your feet, a living heartbeat rumbling through the cracked pavement outside the stadium. You tugged your hoodie lower over your face, the oversized fabric swallowing you whole, while the laminated backstage pass around your neck slapped against your chest uselessly.

“This is a nightmare,” you hissed under your breath, shifting your weight from foot to foot as the line of burly security guards eyed you with growing suspicion. "I am her," you tried again, voice sharp with panic, flashing your ID, your pass - hell, your entire face. But without the heavy eyeliner, the rhinestone costumes, the towering heels, you looked nothing like the glittering popstar plastered on the posters outside.

Beside you, Enzo was pacing in tight, agitated circles, the hem of his designer jacket fluttering with every furious turn. His brown hair was disheveled, his sunglasses shoved up into the messy tangle, and his cheeks flushed an agitated pink. Every so often, he checked his watch with a dramatic groan, looking like he was about to combust.

“You’re supposed to be on stage in fifteen minutes," he snapped, voice low but urgent. "Fifteen, babe. They’re gonna start thinking you died or something."

"I didn't think it would be this hard to sneak in to my own concert," you muttered, pulling the hoodie tighter, your fingers trembling slightly.

Enzo’s wild gaze darted across the lot - and then he froze. Following his line of sight, you spotted it: a rickety maintenance golf cart, parked lazily by a side service gate. Keys dangling from the ignition like an invitation.

"No," you said flatly, already reading the chaos in his eyes.

"Oh, absolutely yes," Enzo grinned, looking like a boy about to jump off a cliff. "Come on, superstar - time to get criminal."

Before you could protest, he grabbed your wrist and took off, dragging you across the asphalt. Gravel crunched underfoot as you sprinted, half laughing, half sobbing, adrenaline clawing up your throat. Enzo vaulted into the driver’s seat, his long legs awkwardly jammed under the tiny steering wheel. You barely managed to clamber onto the passenger side before he twisted the key.

The cart jolted forward with a violent lurch, tires squealing. Security guards shouted in the distance, but their voices dissolved into the roar of the wind as Enzo gunned it, weaving through catering trucks, tangled wires, and startled roadies. You held onto the roof with one hand and your hat with the other, heart pounding against your ribs like a trapped bird.

"THIS ISN'T LEGAL!" you shrieked over the rush of air.

"Neither is locking the main act outside," Enzo called back gleefully, swerving so sharply you slammed into his side.

He barrelled straight toward the service entrance, jerking the golf cart to a screeching halt just short of the emergency doors. Without missing a beat, Enzo jumped out and slammed his shoulder into the metal bar, forcing the door open with a bang that echoed down the empty corridors.

Breathless, giggling uncontrollably, you stumbled inside, sneakers squeaking against the polished concrete. The smell of sweat, hairspray, and adrenaline wrapped around you like a second skin - home.

Enzo grabbed your hand again, tugging you past dressing rooms and chaotic stagehands, ignoring the shouts of protest that chased after you. Finally, he skidded to a stop in front of your dressing room door, throwing it open with a triumphant grin.

"See?" he panted, chest heaving with laughter. "Nothing to worry about, superstar."

You leaned against the doorframe, laughing so hard your sides ached, the thrill of it all sparking in your blood. “Nothing to worry about?” you gasped. “We just committed grand theft golf cart!”

Enzo just winked, already rifling through your costume rack like it was another ordinary Tuesday. “All in the name of stardom, babe. Now move - you’ve got a crowd to set on fire.”

The moment you stumbled into your dressing room, the California heat and chaos slammed into you like a second skin - the thick scent of hairspray, warm leather, and melting stage lights already clinging to the air.

Every surface glittered under the vanity bulbs: rhinestone-studded jackets hung in messy rows, heeled boots toppled in piles, and a kaleidoscope of makeup cases exploded across the counter like a war zone of glam. You yanked off your hoodie and cap, tossing them aside as your heartbeat pounded against your ribs like a drumline.

“We have, like, five minutes to make you famous again," Enzo huffed, shoving a silver makeup case into your arms like it was a lifeline.

You dropped into the vanity chair, the cracked leather squeaking beneath you. In the mirror’s harsh fluorescent light, your real face stared back - flushed, breathless, still halfway a girl from Tennessee who hadn’t fully grown into the glittering myth she'd created here on the West Coast.

No time for hesitation. You grabbed the eyeliner with shaking fingers, dragging dark, dramatic wings over your lids, transforming your sleepy eyes into something fierce. Layers of shimmer dusted your cheekbones, catching the backstage lights with every tiny movement. Lip gloss, thick and sticky, made your mouth look movie-star perfect. Beside you, Enzo hovered like a frantic stylist, wordlessly handing you brushes, hairpins, shimmer powders, working in perfect sync without needing to speak.

The door slammed open with a bang, and Draco swept in like a summer storm, all stiff posture and pressed linen, clipboard tucked tight against his chest.

"You’re late," he snapped, striding into the room like he owned it. His sharp, platinum-blond hair was practically glowing under the vanity bulbs, the fitted charcoal suit he wore screaming Hollywood agent in every thread.

“Technical difficulties,” Enzo muttered, winking at you through the mirror.

"You’re lucky the stage manager got food poisoning, or you’d be done," Draco gritted out, tapping his pen against his clipboard like a ticking bomb. "Set list’s changed. No ad-libbing. No real names. Smile, sparkle, sell the dream - you know the drill."

You didn't answer. You were too busy slipping into your armor - your blonde wig, thick and glossy, the curls cascading around your shoulders like a halo. You tugged it snug against your scalp, fingers securing it with dozens of tiny, practiced pins. The moment it settled, you barely recognized the girl staring back. She was shiny, untouchable. She belonged on Sunset Boulevard, on red carpets, splashed across magazine covers. She wasn’t real -and that was the point.

The door cracked open again and Theo ducked inside, cheeks pink from the sun and the fight he must’ve just had with security. He looked like he belonged in California - casual ripped jeans, worn sneakers, tan skin from afternoons at Venice Beach. His brown hair was a mess, and there was still a faint flush of irritation on his cheeks.

“Security almost tackled Enzo," Theo said dryly, flashing his backstage pass to Draco, who just pinched the bridge of his nose like he had a headache. "You're welcome, by the way."

You let out a soft, breathless laugh, the tension bleeding from your shoulders. Theo crossed the chaotic room to you, smirking as he extended his fist - a silent, familiar invitation. You met it instantly, the secret handshake snapping into place: fist bump, snap, clap, twist, point. You’d made it up as kids back in Tennessee, long before stages and spotlights had gotten between you.

After the final point, Theo leaned close, dropping his voice to a lazy drawl only you could hear: “When you get home, it’s your turn to do the dishes.”

You rolled your eyes so hard Enzo barked a laugh from across the room, but you couldn't stop the smile that curved your lips - real, unpolished, yours.

The three of you moved toward the stage wings, sneakers scuffing across the industrial concrete floors slick with heat and excitement. The roar of the crowd leaked through the heavy curtains, wild and alive, a chaotic storm made of noise and neon lights.

Draco walked briskly beside you, rattling off last-minute instructions like an auctioneer. Enzo kept checking your costume, smoothing your glittery jacket, adjusting your mic pack. And Theo stayed just a step behind, casual but steady, the way he always had.

The music swelled through the walls, a beat that vibrated right through your chest. The first chord of your opening song struck like lightning, and the screaming crowd exploded, filling the backstage tunnels with electricity.

You tugged your headset into place, heart thundering, nerves fizzing through your veins like soda bubbles.

One last breath. One last look back at Theo, Enzo, and Draco - all of them giving you a nod, a flash of encouragement in different forms.

You took one last breath, tugged your mic into place - and let your double life take over.

The roar of the crowd still echoed in your bones when you finally slipped offstage, your glittering heels clicking against the slick concrete of the backstage halls. The buzz of adrenaline clung to your skin like the warm humidity outside, but the moment the heavy stage door swung shut behind you, silence crashed in - thick, sterile, and oddly lonely.

Your dressing room sat at the end of a long, narrow hallway, tucked away from the chaos. You pushed the door open and let it close behind you with a soft click, sealing yourself in a bubble of flickering fluorescent light and fading perfume. The room was a wreck - makeup smeared across the vanity, costume pieces abandoned like shed skins - but right now, none of it mattered.

The light caught the sequins of your outfit, and for a moment, you barely recognized the person staring back. It wasn’t you anymore; it was the carefully crafted illusion, the popstar that was adored and worshiped by millions. That was the part of you that the world saw, the part they wanted to believe in. The real you? That girl was hidden under layers of wigs, makeup, and costume.

You let out a long breath as you leaned closer to the mirror, smoothing down the edges of your wig, ensuring it stayed perfectly in place. You weren’t ready to reveal yourself just yet. Not until the cameras were gone, until you could slip back into the shadows of your private life.

But then, the door to your dressing room creaked open, and the figure who stepped inside was no one you’d expected.

A man, tall and dressed sharply, slipped into the room with the subtlety of someone who thought they were untouchable. A camera bag was slung over one shoulder, and he flashed a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. It was too practiced, too knowing.

"Hey, there," he said smoothly, voice low and almost coaxing. "What a performance tonight. Absolutely spectacular. I’m with Pulse Weekly - big fan of yours. Thought we could chat for a minute? You know, get a peek behind the curtain? The fans would eat it up."

You stiffened immediately, every alarm in your head going off. You didn’t let your guard down for a second, especially not with someone like this. Press, paparazzi, they always thought they had the right to pry - to invade the carefully constructed walls you had built around your identity. You tightened your grip on the edge of the vanity, eyes narrowing as you looked him up and down.

"I think you’ve got the wrong room," you said coolly, trying to dismiss him with a quick, firm tone, your voice still carrying the gloss of your popstar persona.

But he wasn’t going anywhere.

"I’m not trying to cause trouble," he said, taking a small step closer. "Just thought I could get a real interview. You know, the girl behind the music. Fans want to see the real you, not just the glitter and glam."

The comment hit too close to home. It was the truth that only you and your closest friends knew, but the world? The world didn’t get to see the real you. Not yet.

Before you could respond, the door swung open again with a force that made you jump.

Draco strode in like a storm cloud - sharp, imposing, his eyes blazing with authority as he looked straight at the intruder. He didn't even glance at you, his attention fully on the man standing in your dressing room.

"You need to leave," Draco said, voice low but commanding, his tone making it clear that there was no room for negotiation.

The man blinked, startled for a moment, and then quickly put his hands up in a mock surrender. “I wasn’t doing anything wrong. Just trying to do my job.”

“Your job,” Draco said, stepping forward, his gaze never wavering, “ends when her privacy starts. Now, get out.”

The man hesitated for a second longer, then grumbled something unintelligible under his breath before turning on his heel and disappearing through the door, leaving you with a cold, lingering sense of unease.

You let out the breath you’d been holding, but the tension didn’t leave your body. You looked at Draco, who now stood across from you, his posture stiff but his expression softening slightly.

Theo entered right behind Draco, his casual demeanor a sharp contrast to Draco’s rigid formality. He took in the scene with a slow shake of his head, one brow raised. "Is this getting to be too much?" he asked quietly, eyes scanning your face for any sign of distress.

You didn’t answer right away. Instead, you just stood there for a moment, staring at your reflection in the mirror. The woman in the glass was still you, but she felt like someone else, someone distant. You reached up, brushing your fingers through your hair, your thumb grazing the edges of your wig, the last thing that separated you from the life you were trying to keep hidden.

"No," you said softly, your voice steady but tinged with the weight of experience. "This is just the reality of being famous."

Theo nodded, his eyes still searching yours, but he didn’t push. He crossed the room and reached out to touch your shoulder gently - a quiet gesture of reassurance, a reminder that no matter how many strangers tried to tear down your walls, you had people who would stand between you and the chaos.

-

The sun was bright in California, spilling through the tinted windows of the sleek black SUV that carried you and Draco from one location to the next. The car was moving through the city’s hectic streets, its engine purring as it wove effortlessly through traffic, the world outside seemingly just as chaotic as the whirlwind of events that had already filled your day.

It had been one meeting after another - sponsors, agents, brand deals, and photoshoots. The music industry was relentless, demanding every ounce of your energy, every flicker of your attention, every carefully crafted smile. You wore your popstar persona like a second skin, the glittering mask that protected the true you from the world's incessant gaze.

But it wasn’t until Draco’s sharp voice cut through your thoughts that you remembered there was one thing you hadn’t done yet.

"Have you gotten Enzo's birthday gift yet?" Draco asked, the edge of his tone betraying a hint of concern. He was already adjusting his dark sunglasses, his posture always composed, never letting his guard down - just like you.

Enzo’s birthday. You froze, the weight of the question suddenly hitting you. It had slipped your mind completely. Enzo had been there for you when the world didn’t make sense, a friend in a world full of expectations. You hadn’t even thought about what to get him.

“Shit, no,” you muttered, rubbing your temples, trying to shake off the exhaustion that was still clinging to you. “I didn’t even think about it.”

Draco's lip twitched into a faint smile. "Well, you better figure it out. He’s your best friend. You can’t show up to his party empty-handed." His voice softened just a little. "I’ll handle the rest of the PR for today. You just need to get him something nice."

The thought of the party sent a strange mix of excitement and nerves fluttering in your stomach. You hadn’t spent a lot of time with Enzo lately, caught up in the madness of your career. This gift would mean more than just a present; it would be a symbol of your friendship, your history, something real in a world that had begun to feel increasingly unreal.

"Okay," you said, determination settling over you. “Let’s go to a store. I’ll figure something out.”

The moment you stepped out of the car and into the bright, sun-soaked street, it felt like the world shifted. The buzzing sound of traffic, the hum of pedestrians, the street vendors all seemed to fall away as a hush fell over the crowd. Your presence in this world was no longer something that just happened-it was something people noticed.

The second you entered the boutique, a posh little store tucked away behind golden gates and designer windows, the atmosphere changed. The staff, dressed in high-end uniforms, perked up immediately at the sight of you. The manager rushed forward, smiling like she’d just seen a rare bird.

"Can I help you, Ms.?" she asked with a voice so sweet it almost stung. The manager's eyes flicked over to Draco for a split second, before returning to you, waiting for your next command.

You smiled, the practiced curve of your lips turning up just right. "I’m looking for a gift," you said, casually tossing your long hair over your shoulder, making sure the perfectly styled waves cascaded down just so. "Something for a friend. Something... personal."

The manager nodded eagerly, leading you to the back of the store where high-end gifts were displayed - everything from bespoke leather jackets to expensive jewelry. You strolled through the aisles, feeling the familiar weight of being watched hanging in the air. Eyes followed your every step, whispers drifting from the corners of the store as the staff did their best to remain discreet.

You could feel it - that intoxicating rush of being at the center of everything, the unquestioned star. You picked up a delicate silver necklace, its cool weight familiar in your hand, and let your fingers trace the smooth curves of the chain.

“Would you like to see some more exclusive pieces, Ms.?” the manager asked, her tone now buttery-smooth, offering a tempting smile. "We’ve just received a new shipment of jewelry. Some very special items, for a... special customer."

You nodded absentmindedly, feeling the rush take hold as more staff fluttered around you, offering suggestions, complimenting your choices, and waiting on your every whim. They all knew who you were, of course, and that made you feel powerful. Like you could have anything- everything- at your fingertips. The world was a stage, and you were the headliner.

As you strolled through the store, you realized how intoxicating it was. The way people looked at you like you were something larger than life, the way they offered you anything you wanted without hesitation. The fame felt like a drug, a rush you could never quite shake. You were being lavished in the finest things, and for a moment, you could almost forget the price tag of your every decision - the price of living a life where your every move was scrutinized.

Draco lingered in the back of the store, watching you with an amused, albeit slightly skeptical expression, but you hardly noticed. You were caught up in the heady feeling of adoration, the flashes of cameras from outside, the knowledge that all eyes were on you.

This was what it felt like to be someone - not just a person, but a legend in the making.

But you had to snap back.

"I think this will work," you said, picking up a sleek, black leather wallet that felt just right. It wasn’t flashy or over the top, but it was expensive, refined, and fitting for someone like Enzo.

"Perfect choice," the manager said, practically beaming. “We’ll wrap it for you. You deserve the best, Ms."

As the final transaction was made, you couldn’t help but feel a little too proud of yourself. You had just stepped into this boutique as if you owned it, and for a brief moment, the whole world felt like your playground.

As the manager took the wallet from your hands, wrapping it carefully with a layer of silk tissue paper, you felt a satisfied sense of accomplishment. You’d chosen the perfect gift for Enzo, and the excitement of the moment lingered in the air like an electric buzz. But that satisfaction was short-lived.

You turned toward Draco, ready to leave and continue the whirlwind of the day. But as you stepped toward the door, a voice cut through the air, smooth and condescending.

“Wait, hold on-that’s the one I wanted.”

You froze. The voice belonged to none other than Pansy Parkinson, a notoriously competitive pop star with a massive following and a penchant for creating headlines. She was standing by the display of accessories, a mischievous smile playing on her lips as her eyes locked onto the black leather wallet in the manager’s hand.

“That’s the exact one I wanted for my friend," Pansy continued, her tone dripping with feigned sweetness. “I saw it first.”

You blinked in disbelief, trying to process what had just been said. The nerve of her.

“I’m sorry, I already picked this out,” you said coolly, your composure still intact. The manager, caught between the two of you, looked like she might crumble under the tension.

“Oh, I know,” Pansy replied, stepping closer, her heels clicking with an exaggerated force as if she was trying to make her presence known. “But I think I should get it. You know, considering my friend is probably more important than your friend.”

The comment stung, and the air between you thickened. A subtle crackling of animosity sparked between you two. You were no stranger to competition, but Pansy had always rubbed you the wrong way with her smug attitude. It wasn’t about the wallet anymore; it was about her trying to undermine you.

“I don’t think you understand,” you said, your voice calm but ice-cold. “I was here first, and I’m getting it for someone who actually matters to me. Not to try and one-up anyone for attention.”

Pansy’s eyes narrowed, her lips curling into a tight smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Oh, I understand,” she shot back, her voice just as icy. “It’s just that some people are willing to put others down to make themselves feel special. You know, I’ve heard it’s quite a thing in your circles.”

Draco stiffened behind you, stepping forward instinctively, but you held up a hand, telling him to hold back. The last thing you needed was another scene. But the words had already been thrown, and there was no taking them back.

“Are you really going to turn this into a public drama?” you snapped, feeling your patience wear thin.

“Oh, it’s already a drama,” Pansy said, flipping her hair over her shoulder. Her eyes gleamed with a dangerous mix of competitiveness and sheer arrogance. “You just didn’t know it yet. But you’ll learn.”

And with that, she smiled again, the same smile that had made her famous - the one that made the paparazzi and the tabloids eat it up. You’d heard rumors that Pansy lived for moments like these, for the power of drawing attention, no matter how negative it was.

Just then, the sound of clicking cameras broke through the charged silence, and your heart sank. Flashing lights from outside the store made it clear that the paparazzi had caught wind of the confrontation. A few had slipped inside the boutique, snapping pictures of the exchange. The sound of shutters firing off echoed in your ears as the reality of the moment set in.

“Let’s just go,” Draco murmured, but it was already too late. Pansy’s name was already being shouted by a dozen cameras outside the boutique. The damage had been done.

You turned on your heel, storming toward the door, trying to leave the situation behind. But the paparazzi followed, blocking your path as they shouted questions at you.

“Is there tension between you and Pansy Parkinson?”

“Do you really think you’re better than her?”

“Are you jealous of Pansy’s success?”

The questions came fast and furious, each one hitting like a punch. You could feel the anger bubbling up inside you, but you kept your cool - just barely.

“I’m not engaging with this,” you snapped, keeping your chin high as you made your way to the SUV. Draco walked beside you, his arm outstretched to keep the photographers at bay.

When you finally slipped inside the car, the noise of the outside world faded, but the tension remained, thick and suffocating. You could still feel the flashes of the cameras, the whispers from the crowd, the raw bite of Pansy’s words ringing in your ears.

“Did you have to provoke her like that?” Draco asked once the door shut behind him, his tone less severe than you had expected, but still tinged with concern.

“Me?” You scoffed, leaning back in the seat, your head throbbing. “She’s the one who started it.”

Draco didn’t argue, but you could tell he was still on edge. He was always protective of you, especially when the world seemed to want a piece of you at every turn.

The rest of the ride was quiet, the only sounds the hum of the car’s engine and the muffled clicks of cameras following you as the SUV pulled away. You leaned back, staring out the window, wishing the world wasn’t always so dramatic.

But then, as the exhaustion from the day finally settled in, you couldn’t help but feel a rush of satisfaction. You had just fought with one of the biggest stars in the business, and though it wasn’t ideal, you had managed to hold your own.

You just had to remember one thing: in this world, it was always going to be a battle for the spotlight.

The car sped through the streets, the sun dipping below the horizon, casting long shadows on the road. You sat in the back seat, your mind still spinning from the tension of the day. The encounter with Pansy, the flashes of cameras, and the constant pressure of maintaining this larger-than-life persona weighed heavily on you.

You were supposed to be at Enzo’s party by now. It was a much-needed break from the chaos of your career, a chance to let your guard down and just be yourself-yourself, not the pop star everyone adored. The car’s interior felt too tight, too suffocating, so when you glanced out the window at the unfamiliar streets, you suddenly wanted nothing more than to get out of the car, change into something comfortable, and head straight to the party.

"Draco," you sighed, rubbing your eyes. "Can we just get there already? I need to change."

Draco, who’d been silently navigating the streets next to you, shot you a concerned glance. "Not yet."

You blinked, a little thrown off. "What do you mean, not yet? I need to change out of this whole persona before we get to the party. This is too much, Draco."

He raised a hand to stop you from reaching for the zipper of your bag. "I know. But we’re not stopping here."

A jolt of surprise hit you. "What? Why?"

Draco’s sharp eyes flicked to the rearview mirror, his jaw tight. "We’re still being followed. I think that Pulse guy from the concert is onto us. He’s probably waiting for you to make a mistake."

Your stomach sank at the mention of Pulse. The man from the magazine who had been sniffing around your life, trying to dig up any kind of dirt he could find on pop stars like you. You hadn’t expected him to follow you all the way to the boutique, and now you felt the sting of his presence again.

"No way," you muttered, crossing your arms. "I’m not doing this anymore. Enzo is expecting me. I’m going as myself. Not this."

Draco’s eyes were steely, but there was a flicker of understanding in them. "You don’t have a choice, not right now. If you change, if you step out of this car without that persona on, Pulse will find a way to use it against you. Do you really want to risk everything for a party?"

The silence between you stretched, the weight of the decision pressing down on you. You bit your lip, glancing out the window again. This wasn’t the life you wanted, constantly living under the microscope, constantly pretending. But you knew Draco was right. You couldn’t afford to let your guard down-at least, not until the risk was gone.

"I hate this," you muttered, more to yourself than anyone. "I just want to go to the party and enjoy it without all of this... drama."

"I know," Draco replied, his voice softer now, a quiet reassurance that cut through the tension. "But right now, you have to keep playing the game. We’ll get you to Enzo’s, and then you can have your moment. Just don’t give Pulse the satisfaction."

You sighed, shoulders slumping in defeat. You had to stay in character. For the sake of everything you’d worked for. For the sake of protecting your friends, your career, your sanity.

"Fine," you said, your voice hollow. 

Draco gave you a small, understanding nod as you began to reach for the wig again. The familiar weight of the persona settled over you, and as much as you hated it, it was all you knew how to do. You quickly fixed your hair, pulling on the last piece of your disguise.

Draco threw a quick look at you, his eyes a little softer now. "You’re doing the right thing, even if it doesn’t feel like it."

You didn’t answer, but the truth was, you weren’t so sure. You had done this for so long, and the lines between the real you and the pop star were starting to blur. The reflection in the rearview mirror looked more and more like a stranger, but you didn’t have a choice. Not right now.

The car pulled into the driveway of the venue, and as you adjusted your makeup in the mirror, the door opened to reveal the flashing lights of the paparazzi once again. The weight of the disguise pressed down on you, but you stepped out of the car with your head held high, keeping your focus on what lay ahead.

Enzo’s party would be your escape, your chance to pretend, even if just for a few hours, that you were more than just the persona everyone expected.

And as Draco followed close behind, you couldn’t help but feel like you were playing a game that you might not win, but one you couldn’t stop playing either.

The moment the car doors opened, the world erupted into a blur of flashing lights and shouting voices. Paparazzi surged forward, their cameras aimed directly at you, their shouts blending into a chaotic hum. The questions came at you like a barrage-What are you wearing? Who are you with? What’s next for your career?

You froze for a second, the weight of your fame pressing down on you. You’d been here so many times before, but it never made it easier. The lights, the cameras, the constant demand for attention. You forced a smile, stepping out of the car and trying to push the panic down, but the feeling of being hunted was relentless.

"Hey! Over here!" a reporter called, thrusting a microphone toward you.

"Not tonight!" you called back, raising a hand as if that would stop them, but they only pushed harder, getting closer, as if they could smell your unease.

Your heart thudded in your chest as you scanned the crowd, your eyes desperate to find one familiar face. And there he was-Enzo. He stood off to the side, arms crossed tightly, his posture rigid. The birthday boy. The one person you’d been dying to focus on, to make this night all about him. But the cameras didn’t let that happen.

As the paparazzi’s eyes locked on you, Enzo’s shoulders slumped. His face was unreadable, but there was an unmistakable tightness around his jaw. For a moment, it felt like time had slowed, the flashing lights almost disappearing as your focus zeroed in on him.

But it was too late. You’d already stolen the spotlight.

You tried to make your way toward him, maneuvering through the crowd, but it felt like moving through molasses. Every step forward was met with a dozen questions, a dozen more cameras, all demanding attention you hadn’t asked for.

“Hey, come on, Enzo!” Blaise called out from behind him, trying to get Enzo to come forward. But Enzo didn’t move. His gaze remained on you, and the frustration in his eyes was clear.

“Enzo,” you murmured, finally closing the distance between you, your heart sinking with every inch. You reached out, lightly touching his arm, but he flinched away as if your touch burned.

"Don't," Enzo muttered, his voice tight, colder than you had ever heard it. He didn’t look at you directly, his gaze still locked on the ground.

You flinched, your stomach twisting painfully. “I’m sorry,” you whispered, the guilt flooding through you. “I didn’t mean for this to happen. It was supposed to be your night-”

“No,” Enzo cut you off, finally looking up at you, his eyes dark and full of pain. “You never get it, do you?” he spat, his words sharp like daggers. “You think this is all about you. Every damn time. You always steal the spotlight, even when it’s supposed to be my moment.”

You stood there, stunned, as his words landed like a punch. His voice shook with anger and hurt, and for the first time in all your years of being around him, you saw the wall go up. The one thing you had always relied on-his ability to push past his disappointment and keep things light-was gone.

“I can’t do this anymore,” he continued, his voice low and filled with something you couldn’t place. “I don’t think I can keep pretending it doesn’t bother me. You... you never think about anyone else but yourself. Not even on my birthday. Just... just go inside. Have your moment.”

You wanted to say something, to fix it, to make it right, but the words wouldn’t come. What could you say to someone who felt so forgotten? Who had given up everything to keep you in the spotlight, only to be cast aside time and time again? You had failed him-again.

Blaise stepped forward, sensing the tension, but there was no easy way to fix this. Enzo wasn’t going to budge. Not this time.

“You’re not going to forgive me?” You barely managed the words as you reached out to him once more, but Enzo shook his head, a flicker of pain crossing his face.

"I don’t know how," he muttered, his voice thick with emotion, "I just... I need a break from it all. From you."

With that, he turned away, heading for the door with Blaise close behind. The crowd of photographers and fans continued to shout after you, but you couldn’t hear them anymore. You stood there, watching Enzo retreat into the house, the ache in your chest almost unbearable.

Draco appeared then, his eyes narrowing as he saw the scene unfold. "Everything okay?" he asked, though the way he looked at you told you he already knew the answer.

“No,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “It’s not okay.”

“You’ve got to go inside. The show’s not over yet,” Draco said, his tone not unkind but firm. You knew it wasn’t really a suggestion.

But as you stepped forward, heading toward the door, the weight of Enzo’s words followed you like a shadow. The guilt gnawed at you, but it didn’t change the fact that you had to keep playing the game. Even if it meant losing someone you cared about.

And as you entered the party, the door shutting softly behind you, you couldn’t help but wonder if you’d ever be able to repair the damage you had caused.

The noise from the party was deafening, the music still pulsing through the walls as laughter and chatter filled the air. You had tried to enjoy it, really-you had, but every time you glanced around the room, all you could think about was Enzo and the distance that had grown between the two of you. The pain in his eyes was seared into your mind, and no matter how many people surrounded you, no one could fill the emptiness you felt from your best friend slipping away.

Theo appeared by your side after what felt like an eternity. He didn’t speak immediately, his eyes scanning the crowd as if looking for some kind of sign that you hadn’t completely lost yourself. But when he finally looked at you, there was no mistaking the disappointment etched across his features.

“You’ve really messed this up, haven’t you?” His voice was low, but the anger simmered just beneath the surface. "I thought you were different, but now-" He shook his head, his jaw tightening as he struggled to find the right words. “What happened to you?”

The sting of his words cut through the haze of the night, and you tried to hold back the guilt welling up inside. “Theo-”

“No,” he interrupted, grabbing your arm firmly and pulling you out of the crowded room. “Don’t try to make excuses. Enzo’s your best friend, and you’ve been nothing but selfish. Selfish,” he repeated, his voice rising with each word. “You’ve turned your back on him, and for what? So you could play the part? So you could keep the attention?”

You let him lead you through the venue, your thoughts racing as his words hit harder than you expected. When you were outside, he stopped abruptly and faced you, his eyes dark with frustration. “I hardly recognize you anymore. You’ve become this person I don’t even know. This persona-it’s consuming you, and I don’t know if you even care about anyone else anymore.”

Tears pricked at your eyes, but you fought to keep them back. You couldn’t let Theo see you break down, not like this, not in front of him.

“I do care,” you murmured, your voice small and shaky. “But you don’t understand. This persona-it’s everything to me. If I lose it, I lose myself. This is the only thing that’s been real for me. I can’t just walk away from it.”

Theo’s grip on your arm tightened slightly, his brow furrowing with concern. “And what about Enzo?” His voice cracked slightly, the hurt evident in his tone. “Does he not matter anymore? Because that’s what it looks like from where I’m standing.”

You swallowed hard, the words thick in your throat. “I didn’t mean for it to happen like this,” you whispered. “But I... I don’t know how to stop. The fame, the lights, the rush-it’s like nothing else. It’s hard to pull away when it’s all you’ve got.”

Theo’s expression softened for a moment, but the frustration never fully left. “Maybe you need a break. A real one, away from all this,” he said quietly, his voice full of a gentle but firm concern. “You’re not the same person anymore, and I’m scared you’re losing yourself in it.”

You felt the weight of his words, but the thought of stepping away-of losing your identity-was something you couldn’t even begin to fathom. You shook your head vehemently. “I can’t. You don’t understand. This is who I am now. This persona is me. Without it, I... I don’t know who I’d be.”

Theo sighed heavily, his gaze softening but his resolve still firm. “I think you’re wrong,” he murmured, his voice quiet but serious. “Maybe you need to figure that out before you lose everything. Or worse, lose yourself.”

You stood there, staring at him, the weight of his words hanging heavily in the cool night air. But in the end, all you could do was nod-because deep down, you knew he was right, even if you weren’t ready to admit it.

[nottslove]

my fav sang rn is melancholy hill by gorillaz. it's been in my head for WEEKS such a good song :)

event; profile; nav; hi anon!! thank you for sending in this request. it is a pretty good song. once again, it gave me angsty vibes...

it also gave me regulus vibes, i have no idea how, or where, but it just gave me reggie vibes. ITS ALSO VERY VERY LONG 3.4k words

song: melancholy hill, gorillaz slytherin boy: regulus black.

SINCE day one, he had always been your best friend. growing up in a strict, pureblood household was not easy.

especially with your six, younger siblings behind you, and a limited amount of gold in your parents' vault at gringotts.

unfortunately, that meant being betrothed to someone you hardly knew; at the young age of eleven.

your fate was sealed, the moment you got your letter to hogwarts.

augustus rookwood.

his name was augustus rookwood.

your future husband's name.

currently studying in durmstrang, and four years older than you, rookwood came from utmost wealth, which meant good news for your family should you marry him.

support for all your younger siblings.

and so, with this dark cloud of an eventually arranged marriage hanging over your head, you set foot into hogwarts, at the age of eleven.

naturally, you were sorted into slytherin. coming from a long line of slytherins, how could you be sorted into any other house??

being the oldest of seven, you had always been shadowed by the rest, and you often used to find yourself curled up on the chaise lounge with a book whilst you were given the responsibility of watching your siblings, making sure they weren't getting into trouble.

now, alone at hogwarts, you suddenly felt free, away from the burden of your future, and the responsibility of looking after your siblings.

your thoughts were interrupted when a boy sat beside you after being sorted into slytherin.

you recognized him. he came from the most noble and ancient house of black, one of the most prestigious wizarding families who lived in london.

your mother was close friends with his mother, so you had seen him a couple of times.

you'd never spoken to him before though.

the pair of you would simply make eye-contact before he went upstairs, and you buried your nose in a book.

now, however, you were grateful to have the slightly comforting feeling of having someone you knew sit beside you.

you had barely eaten anything; your anxiety was filling enough. an air bubble had wedged itself in your throat, preventing you from doing anything but staring at your food and rubbing your sweaty palms on your robe-covered thighs.

"you've barely touched your food," regulus had murmured with a small, sullen nod; his way of greeting you.

"so have you," you observed quietly, your eyes flickering to his untouched plate, then wandering to hazel-green eyes and dark, messy mop of curls.

no more words were exchanged after that, but regulus and you walked together to the slytherin common room.

you studied together too, and sat next to each other during classes, and even hung out together during the weekends.

one would even go as far as to call you friends.

that was what you had become.

you quickly noticed how similar he was to you. quiet, hardworking, same sense of humor... he even had the same taste in books as you did.

first year passed quickly, too fast for your liking, and before you knew it, it was summer, and you were back to looking after all your siblings and having your mother continuously chastise you for unladylike behavior, constantly reminding you of your upcoming marriage to rookwood as soon as you would graduate from hogwarts.

you were tired of being reminded of it. personally, you couldn't imagine being married to rookwood. you'd never even met the wizard, and you could only hope your parents would change their mind.

you exchanged letters with regulus all summer. yet you never once told him about your betrothal. in your mind, if you didn't speak of it, it would make it less true, and less likely to happen, which was what you wanted.

second year was uneventful, except for the time you and regulus got your first ever detention together.

regulus' brother, sirius had been ignoring regulus whenever the two of you tried to approach him about their mother's letter to regulus, and you had grown frustrated and hexed sirius with a spell you found in one of your books.

as a result, sirius had hexed you with a nose-growing spell and regulus, who was furious at his brother for doing this to you launched himself all over sirius and pummeled him with his fists.

you had to arrange all the borrowed books in the library according to category and author, but it was more rewarding than punishing, since you got to read books and hang out with regulus at the same time.

the summer after your second year was pretty much the same as the one the year before.

for regulus, it was one of his worst summers yet. his brother had run away from home, and got disowned, leaving his little brother to take the brunt of his parents' wrath.

he had immediately flooed over to your house in the middle of the night, and you nursed him back to health as he had suffered the cruciatus curse multiple times that night.

"thank you," he had told you, when dawn began creeping closer. you had hidden him in your room, hoping your parents wouldn't find out about an uninvited guest.

"any time," you whispered back, giving him the tightest hug you could muster. "it's what friends are for, right?"

you and regulus grew closer after that. two of your siblings joined hogwarts that year, and the heavy responsibilities you dealt with at home followed you to hogwarts, the place that had become your safe haven.

when the twins got into trouble, your parents sent you a howler for not looking after them properly, and regulus was there holding you as you cried into his shoulder late at night in the common room.

"it'll be okay, i've got you..." he kept murmuring.

and he was right. it was all okay, because he was there.

you and regulus didn't need anyone else's company when you had each other.

he was enough for you, and you were enough for him too.

third year was also the year you were allowed to go to hogsmeade. as usual, you and regulus went together, checked out the village and bought a few candies, before returning to the castle.

the rest of the visits, the two of you took advantage of the empty castle to hang out alone in the slytherin common room.

summer after your third year was uneventful apart from the fact that you met augustus rookwood for the very first time.

he had just finished his seventh year at durmstrang, and had come with his father to see you for the first time.

all at once, everything felt real.

you didn't want to do this; not one bit. you didn't want to marry rookwood.

still, you had come to terms with your fate, you had accepted it.

yet another one of your siblings joined hogwarts at the beginning of your fourth year.

regulus instantly noticed something was different about you this year. the whole train ride, you were completely silent, reading. or at least, pretending to read.

you didn't realize it, but you had been holding your book upside down, too lost in your own thoughts to realize.

regulus noticed, but he never said a word.

he merely smiled and shook his head.

regulus had thought you needed time and space, so that was what he gave you.

at christmas, when you still weren't back to your normal self, he had decided that he had had enough.

"okay, spill," he said randomly, when the two of you were doing homework by the black lake.

"i'm sorry...??"

"something's been bothering you. i want to know," he got to the point, his beautiful hazel-green eyes meeting yours.

and then, you broke.

all this time you had been holding yourself up, afraid that if you opened your mouth, you wouldn't be able to stop, you would start crying.

"reg— don't.... don't ask me that," you pleaded, your eyes watering. "ask me anything else, just.. just not that..."

you couldn't give him an honest answer; you didn't want to talk about rookwood.

you just wanted to forget.

you wanted to enjoy the rest of your hogwarts life and your childhood before your marriage to rookwood.

fully able to tell you were sensitive about the issue, regulus pulled you into an embrace, and that was where you began crying once more, sobbing and shaking as he held you.

"i'm betrothed to rookwood— i'm going to marry him as soon as we graduate from here.."

"oh, love..." your stomach fluttered intensely at the pet name, and as you buried your face into his shoulder, arms wrapped around his neck, the sensation only intensified instead of fading away.

when had he smelt this masculine, this good?? when had he felt so muscular, so safe?

you didn't realize it, but that was when you started falling for regulus black, your best friend.

summer after fourth year was no better than the rest. you got to meet regulus at all the pureblood parties and galas hosted by different wizarding families during the summer.

it was also when you shared your first dance with rookwood, and your first dance with regulus.

your best friend has asked you to dance when he saw you sitting pitifully on the stairs, right after your dance with rookwood had ended.

the two of you had ended up sneaking away from the party and into the piano room, where you played tchaikovsky together and stole a bottle of firewhiskey from the cellar.

safe to say that you both got drunk, but you had managed to take a sobering potion before either of your parents caught you.

your fifth year was when you realized you had caught feelings for regulus. every time he gave you that quiet smile of his, every time his eyes twinkled in mirth when you said something funny...

it made your stomach lurch in a completely pleasant way.

every time he would hug you, you would blush. every time his hands would brush against yours, you bit your lip to stop the grin forming across your lips.

it only made everything more painful; knowing that you couldn't act on your feelings because you were betrothed to rookwood.

regulus didn't realize; and you hoped he never would realize.

little did you know, he had already fallen in love with you.

but neither of you acted on your feelings. you simply grew closer to each other than ever.

during the slytherin christmas party, you and regulus got caught under the mistletoe, and he pressed the barest, gentlest of kisses on your lips.

it was your first kiss, but you didn't tell him that.

it lasted less than a second, but it meant everything to you.

it was hard pretending everything was normal after that. regulus was strangely oblivious to your feelings, and you often wondered how he couldn't see your painfully obvious feelings for him, and how he could go on pretending his kiss hadn't affected you.

the rest of your fifth year, you tried to distract yourself from regulus; knowing that if you confessed your feelings for him, it would ruin your friendship.

even if he did like you back, you were betrothed to rookwood anyway.

the summer after your fifth year, and before your sixth year, your parents hosted your official engagement party.

after much pleading and begging, you were allowed to invite regulus.

and as you watched another girl, who happened to be your cousin, chat him up and touch his arm, your blood boiled, your heart clenched, and tears sprung to your eyes, as you watched him lean against the wall with his hands in his pockets and shrug.

the girl moved on and before you knew it, your eyes met his.

a fierce jolt traveled through your entire body, tension suffocating you from all sides just from bearing the weight of his gaze.

that was when you knew you were in love with regulus black.

he was your life jacket in the stormy sea of like, and you simply could not live without him.

you needed him.

but you never said a word.

your fate was sealed. you loved him from a distance. he was so far, yet so close.

and this type of pain was worse than the cruciatus, even.

no, you smiled through it all, acted like you were happy.

only regulus saw through your façade.

your sixth year was your hardest year yet. another of your siblings joined hogwarts, and you and rookwood were expected to write to each other every week.

his letters were short. yours were the same length.

regulus had started to gain attention from the female population.

the tall, brooding, silent type is what they called him. he acted oblivious and uninterested to all of it, but whenever he was approached by a girl, you noticed the slight smirk on his pale, pink lips, and the slightest lift of his eyebrow, and his eyes would meet yours, as if he were waiting for your reaction.

that was when you would quickly cast your gaze down and hastily begin to pretend you were writing.

but regulus knew.

he could see.

and he wanted to confirm if you had feelings for him, so he looked at you cluelessly before he asked his question.

"should i go out with her?" he asked innocently, his face betraying no emotion. "she seems nice, doesn't she?"

it was all a ploy to get you jealous, but you didn't know that.

fisting your hands underneath the table, you forced a smile through gritted teeth.

"mhmm, yeah, she does. if you like her, go ahead— ask her out..."

and he asked her out right in front of you, fully aware of your reddening cheeks and your annoyed glare.

two could play that game.

with every letter that came from rookwood, once a week, you made a show of receiving it, reading it and replying to it.

"want to head to the library?" regulus would ask.

"can't," you'd say. "i need to reply to rookwood."

you would give him the same response when he asked you to accompany him to hogsmeade, and when he asked if you would play chess with him, unaware that your responses made his blood boil.

he decided to up his game.

every quidditch match he would play, he would always wink at you and smile, right after he caught the snitch and won for slytherin.

his win was always dedicated to you.

since his second year, his first year after getting on the team, he always won for you.

you were always there in the crowd, wearing his jersey, his number painted on both your cheeks.

this time, he winked at her.

at the stupid, stupid greengrass girl.

what's more, she ran to him right after his win, and kissed him full on the mouth.

in front of everyone.

your blood boiled, coursing through your veins, and the roar of the crowd around you was drowned out by the pumping of your heart in your ears, making your whole head throb.

hot, angry tears spilled down your cheeks, and your head felt heavy. without casting another glance backwards, you stormed off angrily, into the forbidden forest, without a care.

you didn't know how long you were there, feeding unicorns, talking to the centaurs, but you lost track of time.

it grew dark, and it even began raining.

and you were lost; you couldn't find your way back to the castle.

after wandering blindly through the trees, you managed to get out of the forest, tears mingling with the rain crashing down from the sky.

you were drenched. completely. you had worn regulus' quidditch jersey, as usual; the way you did every match.

now it was a soaking mess atop your shorts.

and then you heard his voice.

calling out your name.

you froze.

he saw you, a good distance from hagrid's hut, wand in hand, wearing his jersey, soaking wet.

you were shivering, freezing cold. but one look from his intense eyes and you felt hot all over.

you were on fire.

"DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW WORRIED I WAS?" he roared, his angry gaze meeting yours. "YOU WERE GONE FOR HOURS— i... i thought something happened to you," he rasped, his voice losing its angry tone and taking a sad, defeated one.

he never lost his temper; it was a rare occasion. and at the moment, he was mad at you for making his heart go through the possibility of losing you.

and you, you could only stand in silence, angry tears spilling down your cheeks.

for once, you were glad it was raining, so regulus couldn't see your tears.

"well, i'm fine," you replied coolly, still completely pissed at regulus. it wasn't his fault. "no need to worry."

you shouldn't have been mad. after all, he didn't like you that way and you were meant to marry rookwood.

"that's all you're going to say?" he scoffed, as he couldn't believe you.

"should i be saying something else?" you prompted, irritation lacing your words.

"an apology, maybe?" regulus muttered, voice laced with irony. "for worrying me? for making me think... something happened to you? for making me think... that i... lost you?"

his voice were laced with vulnerability, spoken with a quiet sort of disappointment, as if he couldn't believe that you of all people would leave him.

in this world, he only had you.

no one else.

you were his family.

"well, why do you care what happens to me anyway?" you retorted, still furious at him for kissing the other girl. you simply couldn't get the image of greengrass locking lips with your best friend.

"i care because you're my best friend. you're all i have," regulus replied earnestly, raising his voice slightly to be heard over the thundering sound of rain. "and..."

his voice dropped lower as he broke off, averting his gaze to the floor before his beautiful eyes flickered back up to yours. "and i love you."

a deafening silence pounded through your ears, and though he spoke so so softly, it was fully audible over the sound of rain.

your heart lurched.

more tears poured down your face, and you swallowed hard.

"reg— i—" you stuttered, completely frozen, unable to string two words together. hope festered in your heart, and you guarded it fiercely, unable to tell if he meant it platonically, or romantically.

"it's... it's okay if you don't feel the same—" he began to panic, brows furrowing together in worry.

"i do," you gurgled, surprising him completely. "i love you."

before you knew it, he was kissing you, hands tangled in your wet, matted hair, your lips mingling with his.

you were freezing cold, and the rain drenched both of you, but the moment your lips touched his, your body was on fire.

you and regulus started dating, but in secret. you couldn't risk your parents finding out about you being in love with him.

they would forbid you from seeing him, and you couldn't live that.

your sixth year summer was uneventful, save for the fact that you convinced your parents to allow you to floo over to regulus' place every now and then.

they only allowed you out of pity.

it was your last summer to be free, to be unmarried.

it was also regulus' last summer to be free. he would be joining the dark lord immediately after graduation from hogwarts.

unbeknownst to you, regulus was hatching a plan.

he didn't tell anyone about it, in fear of failure.

your seventh year was bittersweet.

it was full of exams, and looking after your siblings.

and wedding preparations.

the year ended, and you were swamped with wedding preparations.

you had no time to see regulus.

every night, you would cry, as your wedding came closer and closer, and you were desperately in love with regulus.

the night before your wedding, regulus had managed to sneak into your room.

"pack your essentials," he whispered. "let's run away together.."

and you did. you grabbed his hand and let yourself fall, because you knew he would always catch you.

you knew he would always be there for you.

he would always catch you.

you put your entire faith in him, because everything was better when he was there.

and finally, finally, when you and regulus reached the house he had bought in france, the two of you stopped running.

you were safe.

you were home.

event; profile; nav;

©nottslove 2025. do not copy, steal or claim any works/graphics as your own.

[musingsofahufflepuff]

Just to Stop the Feeling

bi!Theodore Nott x m!reader; angst & fluff

summary: in the wake of his mother’s death and his father’s ever increasing expectations of him, Theodore finds love in a place he never would have expected

a/n: a year in the making and this might be the gayest thing i’ve ever written. big shout out to @suugarbabe for listening to me yap about this for weeks, the anon who requested this, and everyone who’s been supporting me the past year. here's 6.2k words of bi awakening, enjoy ♡

The Great Hall was loud, too loud if you asked Theodore. The Sytherin was sat at his house table, head propped up on one hand as his friends chattered around him. The sorting ceremony had just wrapped up which meant everyone in the Hall was catching up about their summers. Theo thought back to just a couple days ago, the oppressive silence that haunted the Nott Manor in stark contrast to just how lively and crowded it was now. His father was rarely in common spaces nowadays, thank Merlin, but that left Theo to stalk around the Manor much like the ghosts floating above him now. If only it was as interesting an existence as Sir Nicholas or even Peeves. Not even a poorly rolled cigarette in the garden brought much enjoyment to him these days.

“Theo! Are you with us mate?”

His eyes drag up to meet the inquisitive look on Enzo’s face. He hums in acknowledgement.

“We’ve been talking to you for the past five minutes.” Theo takes the cue to look around and see the group looking at him, some in amusement and some—Mattheo specifically, though he tries to hide it—with concern.

He slips on his signature lazy half smirk with minimal effort, rehearsed and perfected. “Tired from the train, what did I miss?”

Enzo perks up and launches them back into conversation, Mattheo visibly relaxing in his peripheral. Arm still supporting his head, he jokes and laughs and nods along to everyone recapping their summer breaks, feeling hollow.

The Slytherin common room wasn’t cozy in the traditional sense, with its cool lighting and excess of stone architecture, but Theo found it comforting nonetheless. He was sitting on one of the leather couches in front of the fireplace, this time only in the company of Mattheo and Draco.

Cool leather against his skin contrasted nicely with the heat of the fire, the familiar voices of his friends putting his soul at ease for the first time in months. He loosely kept up with what they were talking about, his mind simultaneously wandering to thoughts about the new term. Evidently, Draco and Mattheo were on the same wavelength as the topic shifted to Hogwarts and—much to Theo’s dismay—girls. “So Nott, got your eye on anyone this year?”

Theo rolled his head against the back of the couch to face Draco, that smirk back on his face. “Eh, hadn’t thought about it too much. I know Pansy has hers on you, Malfoy.”

The blond scoffs, “as if I wasn’t aware.”

“Like a predator on prey,” Mattheo cracks, smile evident in his voice. Theo allows himself to chuckle as Draco looks at them helplessly. Theo feels Matt’s elbow nudge at his side. “Too bad it isn’t Granger looking at him that way.”

A pillow flies past Theo’s head and smacks the boy next to him square in the face. Mattheo dramatically falls back onto the couch before erupting into laughter.

“Too bad you aren’t a beater, huh Malfoy?” Theo quips, quickly putting up his hands to potentially block another projectile pillow.

Draco just groans, “I’m going to bed.”

The first month of classes flies by fairly quickly, everyone falling into their usual rhythm. Quidditch practices a few times a week, late nights smoking in the astronomy tower and the odd party here and there. Theo is itching to get off the castle grounds.

That’s why he jumped at the opportunity to go when Enzo asked the group for company on his shopping trip that Saturday morning. Theodore loved Hogsmeade in the fall. The shops would put up festive decorations and the entire atmosphere of the small village grew extra cozy.

With a Slytherin scarf loosely draped over his shoulders and Butterbeer on the brain, he met his group of friends at the beginning of the path to Hogsmeade.

The breeze was comfortable as they walked through the village, stopping every couple of shops to peruse the new inventory. They finally make their way to the Three Broomsticks, finding a table for the group.

Theo groans as he gets voted to go up to the bar for drinks. Sitting at one of the stools is a guy in scarf showing off a badger emblem. As he gets closer, he realizes he vaguely recognizes the Hufflepuff. Theo settles himself down on the stool next to him, causing the guy to look over.

He has a quizzical expression on his face, eyes lighting up as he figures out who he’s looking at, “You’re Nott, right? I think we have a couple classes together.”

His heart thumps a little harder at his name on the boy’s lips. The boy in front of him tilts his head when Theo doesn’t respond, reminding him to give a quick nod.

The Hufflepuff’s lips tug up into a small smile as he offers up his name.

Theo blinks a couple times and stammers out something about seeing the guy around sometime before he’s speed walking back to the table, no drinks in hand.

“Whoa, who got Nott blushing?”

Theo furrows his brows together in confusion, a hand coming up to his face. And sure enough, heat was radiating off his cheeks.

“Never mind that, Theo! Where’s the butterbeer?”

Monday morning Theo is sitting in History of Magic before class starts, getting ready for an hour of boredom, when books hitting the desk with a thud catches his attention. He’s startled to see you, the Hufflepuff boy from the Three Broomsticks, standing there already looking at him.

“Mind if I sit here?”

Theo nods, feeling like an idiot. Why was this Hufflepuff boy able to completely shut off his ability to speak, let alone think?

That bright smile is back on your face as you take the seat next to him. And his heart flutters.

“So glad this is the last year of having to put up with Binns and his masterclass story telling,” he can practically feel the sarcasm dripping from your voice and finds himself cracking a smile. An actual smile, not the smirk he usually puts on.

“I know, it’s a wonder anyone manages to stay awake.”

You gesture to the travel mug in your hands, “gotta keep at least a bit of caffeine on me for emergencies. One of my muggle-born friends gave me something called an energy drink? It’s…a lot, to be quite honest.”

Theo huffs a laugh, “energy drink? You’d be better off with some espresso than whatever muggles put in those things.”

You give a contemplative nod, “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Before he can figure out something else to say, to keep existing in the surprising warmth of conversation with you, Binns is starting up his monotone ramble. Theo feels his heart sink as you look away from him to at least make an attempt to pay attention. He silently looks through his textbook, trying to ignore the weird sensation in his chest.

“Hey Theo, wanna come to the Astronomy Tower tonight?” Mattheo’s voice comes from behind where he’s sat in the common room the next evening after dinner.

He pulls his nose out of the book he was buried in as he thinks it over. It had been a while since he’d had a proper smoke with the lads, and he didn’t need to ask to know that’s what Mattheo had in mind. It doesn’t take long for him to set his book down on the table with a nod, “yeah, sure.”

As he turns around to face him, he sees Enzo right behind the other boy, grinning with a thumbs up. The look on his face makes Theo debate changing his mind, but he walks out of the common room with the pair anyway. 

The walk up to the Astronomy Tower is long and filled with so many stairs that Theo is very quickly reminded why he doesn’t bother coming up here as often as he thinks he’d like to. Enzo and Mattheo walk slightly in front of him, talking about something Theo doesn’t really bother to listen in on, Quidditch perhaps? How those two don’t run out of things to talk about, he’ll never know. He’s so lost in thought he barely notices the last two flights of stairs to the top and he’s suddenly hit with the cool air of early fall. He’s also suddenly aware that Mattheo and Enzo are no longer talking, but instead looking at him. He blinks.

“Huh?”

“Told ya he’s just been on a different planet lately,” Enzo quips, nudging Mattheo with his elbow. Mattheo nods in agreement but doesn’t comment on it, instead repeating his question, “I said do ya got your own smokes or are you taking one off me? Cause if you are, we’re fucked. I’m out.”

Theo isn’t surprised in the slightest, “is that why you invited me? Free cigs?” Nonetheless, he pulls a pack out of his pocket and holds it out for him.

Matt grins as he swipes one, “nah, but it doesn’t hurt. You’ve always got nicer ones than me.” Enzo immediately scoffs.

“It’s cause you’re broke Matty—”

“Shut up, no I’m not!”

“Then explain why you keep mooching off of me—” they continue to bicker before Theo cuts them off. “Matt, got a light?” 

Mattheo shuts up and holds out a lighter, flicking it to life with practiced ease. Enzo swoops in with his joint before Theo can even pull a cigarette out of his pack, rolling his eyes at his friend. Mattheo raises an eyebrow quizzically, “weed? Seriously?”

Enzo just shrugs nonchalantly, cocky little smirk on his face. “Not my fault neither of you know how to have fun—hold on, is that my fucking lighter?!” Mattheo gives him a shrug, moving it away from where Enzo’s leaning in to get a better look. 

Theo sighs, “I think he meant on a school night—”

“Who are you? My mum? Didn’t think you cared about actually attending lessons, Teddy—” Theo immediately scowls at the nickname, making Enzo raise his hands in surrender, smirk still planted on his face. Merlin, he could be insufferable.

Theo returns the shrug, trying to play it off, “just figured with OWLs coming up—”

He’s cut off once again, this time by Mattheo, “don’t tell me, you wanna make sure you don’t miss sitting by that Hufflepuff.” Damn his ability to see straight through him. “Don’t think we didn’t notice you two sitting together yesterday in Binns’ class.”

“Well, I didn’t…” Enzo interjects but is ignored by Mattheo other than an exasperated eye roll.

“You seemed pretty chatty; wasn’t that the same guy at the Three Broomsticks last Saturday?”

Theo quickly lights the cigarette on Mattheo’s still flickering flame and shoves it between his lips. He receives an unimpressed look at his attempt to avoid the question, but to his credit, Matt refrains from pressing further. The same cannot be said for Enzo.

“So what, you’re fraternizing with Hufflepuffs now, are ya mate? Never thought I’d see the day—” his teasing is abruptly ended by Mattheo whacking him upside the head.

Mattheo lights his own cigarette before putting the lighter away, taking a deep drag from it. There’s a beat of silence between them. A gentle breeze passes through the tower as Theo looks out at the Scottish Highlands bathed in the light of the moon.

“He’s just…nice, I guess. Doesn’t seem to mind I’m a Slytherin,” Theo finally answers, releasing a stream of smoke.

Enzo chuckles, rubbing the back of his head where he was whacked. “Fair enough. I feel like usually only girls that want a little fun are willing to break that barrier.” He raises his eyebrows suggestively as he takes a drag as well. Mattheo snorts with a nod. “At least it's not a Gryffindor.” Theo’s nose subconsciously scrunches.

“Yeah, remember that Gryffindor Enz was all over end of last term because word was going around he had a good pot stash?” Now it’s Mattheo getting shoved, but he barely reacts besides a huff of a laugh. 

“Didn’t even have the goods,” Enzo pouts petulantly, “wasted a whole 2 weeks for nothing.”

“I think you’ll live, mate.”

Theo leans back against the railing, cigarette between his lips as he watches his best mates as their bickering shifts into them laughing and joking like it always does. He adds a couple quips here and there, mind wandering to the Hufflepuff boy periodically as the cigarette slowly dwindles. Once it’s reached the end of its life, he snuffs it out, pushing himself off the floor where they’d ended up sitting for the past hour. “I think I’m heading back down to the dorms, it’s getting late.”

Mattheo shares a look with Enzo. With a smirk, Enzo wolf whistles, “gotta get your beauty sleep for your little badger, eh Nott?”

Theo just flips him the middle finger as he crosses the tower to the first of many, many stairs. As his descending footsteps echo through the stairwell, Enzo turns to Mattheo, “poor fucker is whipped.”

Mattheo nods, “and down right oblivious…how many galleons are we betting for how long it takes him to figure it out?”

There’s a mischievous smirk on the other boy’s face. “How much you got?”

The next morning, Theo is once again startled by the Hufflepuff boy dropping his books on the table with that same dramatic thud. If Theo didn’t know any better, he would start to think it was intentionally to get his attention. This time, he speaks first.

“Morning.” 

There’s that bright smile again and Theo’s chest feels…odd.

“Morning!” you chirp as you slide into the seat. “I took your advice and got some espresso, much better than that muggle concoction. Figured since it was your suggestion, I’d bring you some. Mum got some beans from a cafe in London when I wrote her about it.”

Once again a warm sensation floods Theo as a second mug is set on the table and slid his direction. He carefully picks it up and takes off the lid, finding a double shot inside. It’s still hot from what he assumes is a temperature charm on the mug and the warm sensation in his chest gets stronger.

He raises the cup to his nose, inhaling the comforting aroma of coffee before taking a sip. It’s not quite the taste of home, but it’s close. He nods appreciatively. 

Then before he can stop himself he’s making an offer, accent a hint thicker than he typically tries to control, “I’ll have to make you a cup the way I had growing up sometime. This is good though.”

Theo doesn’t have time to backtrack or change his mind before your smile is turning softer. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

To hide the flushing of his cheeks, he quickly downs the rest of the liquid and hands the mug back. For maybe the first time ever he’s glad Binns decides now is the perfect time to begin the monotonous period. 

Out of the corner of his eye he sees you put the mug back in your bag, soft smile still on your face. And maybe Theo doesn’t hate this class as much as he thought he did.

Over the following weeks, Theodore does the unthinkable: he looks forward to bloody History of Magic, just for the opportunity to chat with you before class. 

His friends share looks at breakfast as he starts leaving earlier and earlier each Monday and Wednesday, hoping to get even just a bit of extra time with you. Because he’s too nervous to ask you to hang out. And he cannot for the life of him figure out why. 

He’s Theodore Nott. The stoic, level headed and lusted after Slytherin. Right? He makes people nervous. He flusters pretty girls. So what the bloody hell is going on? 

He’s never, not once in his 5 years at Hogwarts, ever considered the possibility that someone could do this to him. Let alone a stupid, pretty Hufflepuff boy with a gentle, excited smile that’s way too eager to mingle with a snake. But somewhere in his gut Theo knows he’d be devastated if the other boy stopped. 

And that terrifies him.

One morning after several weeks of sitting together, you once again drop your books onto the desk with the theatrics Theo’s come to expect from you. He subconsciously finds himself perking up at the sound just before you start chattering away, something he’s also grown almost fond of. He likes that you tend to fill the space he’d otherwise find awkward or tedious in conversation, seemingly undeterred by his often quiet nature. And he’s more than happy to just listen to you and bask in your welcoming presence. 

This time you’re talking about the History of Magic exam coming up in a couple weeks and your lack of a study partner, something that instantaneously catches Theo’s attention. 

“Yeah, my usual study buddy bailed on me, the nerve,” you laugh. “So now I’m on the hunt for a new one…” 

Theo’s heart rate picks up as you trail off, there’s no way you’re going to say what he’s hoping you will. Right? There’s no way he’s that lucky. Hell, there’s no way someone like you would want to be around him outside sitting next to each other in the worst class offered at Hogwarts. He’s pretty sure you have less controversial friends to ask than a brooding Slytherin whose best mate is the son of Voldemort, for fucks sake—

His internal pity party is cut short by you looking at him almost… nervously?

“Would you maybe be free to, I dunno, study together some time next week? It’s cool if you’re not, I just thought—well, I’m not sure what I thought—other than that I would offer,” your question starts to shift into a ramble and your cheeks flush as you seem to realize it. Meanwhile, Theo’s heart has stopped and his breath catches in his throat. He has to hold himself back from shouting a thrilled “Yes!”

He clears his throat, desperately clinging to his composure. “Yeah, sure, I could make that work. When did you have in mind?”

Theo feels nearly sick with nerves as he sits at the Central Hall fountain outside of the library waiting for you. He was at least 15 minutes early, mostly because Enzo said he would hex him if he kept pacing around the dorm room like he had been for the prior half hour. His foot taps anxiously in a way he is not used to. He's no stranger to stress, but this is on a different level. All he's going to be doing is go over the most boring aspects of wizarding history with you for a couple hours and here he is, worried he's going to end up in the Hospital Wing with heart palpitations. He takes a deep, shaky breath as he looks up at the snoring dragon mural above the library. Just breathe you idiot!

“Hey Theo, sorry I'm late. My dormmate would not shut up.” He hears your voice before he sees you, his head turning to follow the sound. And he tries to keep the surprise off his face at hearing you call him Theo instead of Nott like you had been since that afternoon in the Three Broomsticks. “You ready for the most exciting next couple hours of your life?” Oh, and what he wouldn't do to see that teasing little grin on your face more—

“Ready,” he stands from the fountain bench, following behind you through the heavy wooden doors of the library.

He walks half a step behind you as you weave your way through the tables and shelves, finding a relatively remote spot in the already quiet space. For maybe the first time in—your friendship? Theo hopes that's what you two are at least—the entire time he's known you, your set your books down without the slam.

You must have noticed the look he was giving you because you smirk. “I don't just go throwing books when you're not around. And close your jaw, you'll catch lacewing flies.”

Theo lightly bites on his lip as he sits next to you at the table, your shoulders almost touching. You flip the massive textbook open and pull a couple quills and parchment from your bag as you settle in to go over the material.

There’s a feeling of familiarity with you that Theo wasn’t anticipating. Conversation comes more naturally than when he’s spoken with you before class and he realizes he really, really likes spending time with you. There’s no bickering like there is with Matt and Enzo, no snarky comments thrown around for laughs. It’s peaceful and warm. 

He feels like that around you a lot, he realizes, warm. Comfortable. His arm brushes against yours.

Theo and you spend the next couple hours working through the exam material, interspersed with getting to know each other. He listens to you ramble about your favorite classes this term, your friends—anything you’re willing to tell him, he wants to drink it all in.

Neither of you seem to notice how close you’ve gotten to each other until he can feel your breath on his face and that warmth that seems to radiate off of you. Then, you’re getting closer.

There in the back of the library, Theo’s world comes to a standstill as you gently press your lips against his, his heart threatening to pound out of his chest. It takes him a couple seconds to regain his senses before moving his lips back against yours, losing himself in the kiss. 

He notices you taste like earl grey which blends with the woody scent of your cologne in an intoxicating mixture. Much too soon for his liking you’re pulling back and he has to stop himself from whining at the loss of contact. 

His eyes flutter open to find you haven’t gone far. In the silence he thinks about how pretty your eyes are and maybe—no, definitely—that’s his new favorite color.

“Was that okay?” your voice is just above a whisper.

Theo just leans forward and recaptures your lips in another kiss. First his mind swirls with this is what kissing is supposed to feel like. He’s dumbfounded that it really can feel like fireworks and it’s not just some sappy bullshit made for the romance novels Pansy and Daphne read.

Then it all comes crashing down.

The next thing he feels is dread. Overwhelming, overpowering dread. He can’t quite place why, but it’s there. And suddenly he’s pulling away from your lips like he’s been burned.

He sees the shock on your face, but before he starts to apologize or explain, his father’s voice is itching in the back of his mind. He steps back.

Your voice saying his name is muffled by the ringing in his ears and your concerned expression is taken over by that all too familiar disappointed look in his father’s eyes. He runs away, feeling more like a coward than he’s ever felt in his life. 

And the worst part is he knows he’s leaving you alone, confused and hurt. But he does it anyway.

After wandering the corridors of the castle for the better part of 10 minutes, lost in thought, he finds himself in front of the music room. Like his body instinctively knew where he needed to be. He pushes the door open, relieved to find it empty. The wooden stairs creak as he walks up. He sits on the rug by the piano, hugging his knees to his chest.

Theo is alone in the music room not 20 minutes before Mattheo finds him. A bloodhound that boy. Or maybe he just knows Theo too well. 

“Your little badger sent me.” Mattheo eases down onto the rug next to him, close enough for his knee to lightly graze Theo’s thigh. “He was freaking out like the world was ending or he kicked your cat or something. Didn’t know where to find you, but he did find Berk and I in the Astronomy tower. So I said I’d take care of it, you’re welcome.”

Theo just hums in acknowledgment.

“So…did he actually kick your cat or what?”

Theo shakes his head.

“Well it must have been pretty bad since you came here. Haven’t seen you hiding out here since, well—” his mum died. Mattheo doesn’t have to finish his sentence, they both know.

A long breath he didn’t realize he was holding breaks out in a sigh as his eyes shut. The soft enchanted piano music is the only sound for a moment as he wills away the emotions threatening to surface. “I don’t know, maybe the world is ending.”

A couple more beats of quiet. “Wanna talk about it?” He knows deep down it’s a question Matt will respect the answer to. And he briefly debates turning him down, but something compels him to slowly nod.

“He—we kissed.”

“Was it bad?”

“No.”

Mattheo nods as he considers the response he was given. “So the problem was that it was good?”

“Yes? No? Maybe?”

“That’s kinda dodging the question, mate.”

Theo groans, “I don’t know, okay?” He runs his fingers through his hair. “I just— cazzo! This is wrong, isn’t it? Feeling like this?”

“Theo—”

“I can’t feel this way for another guy. My father would disown me and it’d ruin my life. I’m supposed to marry a pureblood witch and produce an heir and—”

Before Theo has time to stop him or even process what’s happening, Mattheo is grabbing him by the face and pressing their lips together, and that same fluttering sensation is back. It’s not as strong and thrilling as kissing you, Theo’s not sure that’s even replicable, but it still feels nice in a way none of his previous kisses have been. Where he was going through the motions for some reason even he didn’t understand. But no, once again he can understand why people would want to do this.

Then as quick as he was pulled in, his best friend is pulling away, silently observing him for a moment.

“Did the world end?” 

“…No.”

“Then what’s the problem?”

They sit staring at each other as Theo’s brain struggles to formulate a response. 

“Matty, I—” he hesitates like this is going to be what destroys their friendship, “I don’t think I’m…straight.”

“I didn’t think you were.” 

And something about the way he says it makes Theo feel better. Like he’s not being judged or ridiculed for feeling this way. Like it’s something natural. A no-brainer, boring fact of life. Theo thinks he might cry. 

Instead he leans forward and connects their lips again, just briefly. And part of him knows Mattheo can feel the underlying sadness and fear in it. But when they pull apart once again, neither of them comment on it. A weight feels like it's been lifted off him.

“I think,” Theo pauses as he debates speaking about this out loud for the first time, like it will make it real. “I think I haven’t really felt like myself since my mum...y'know?” He says it like it’s a question, but they both know the truth. “I know it’s been 2 years, I should be fine. But I’m not.”

Mattheo, who had been quietly listening, speaks. “I don’t know Theo…I’ve barely heard you talk about her since you came back to school third year. Have you talked about it to anyone? Hell, have you let yourself grieve?”

“I…I don’t know how. My father stopped mentioning her after the funeral and—he barely acknowledged she was even gone.” He pulls his knees back up to his chest. “I miss her.”

He feels the comforting warmth of Matt’s hand on his shoulder blade. And the gentle touch of his thumb across his cheek, wiping a tear away is the first indication that he’s started to cry. He quickly sniffles in an attempt to stop the tears, but it doesn't work. If anything, it just makes them fall faster. He tucks his head down, forehead against his knees. Mattheo's hand gently rubs his back as they sit in silence as he cries. He's grateful Matt doesn't try to help by speaking, the gentle piano filling his ears like a warm hug after being lost in the cold for days with no reprieve.

The silent sobs eventually slow, his body no longer shaking from the force of them. And weirdly, he feels better. He’s spent his whole life being told that men don’t cry, especially pureblood wizards of their status, so when the weight comes off his chest he’s shocked at how easy it is to just breathe. 

He pulls his head up to look at Matt, who isn’t looking directly at him but keeps his hand on Theo’s back. A soft murmured, “thanks,” passes his lips and causes the curly haired boy to return his attention to him. Mattheo doesn’t comment on how red and tear-stained his eyes are, much to Theo’s relief. 

“You good, mate?”

“Yeah, I think so.”

Mattheo hesitates before speaking again, “you don’t have to listen to me, cause what do I know, but I think you should talk to him.” Theo thinks back to you, how lost and hurt you looked when he ran from the library and he sighs. 

“When did you get so wise?”

Mattheo shrugs, “we’ve all had to grow up pretty fast…you’re my best mate Theo. It sucks seeing you like this, y'know?” He lightly nudges Theo’s shoulder, “kinda ruins the vibe.”

Theo can’t help but chuckle, “you’re an idiot.”

“And here I thought I was wise.”

“I was wrong, you’re fully a dumbass.”

“Nah, that’s Enz. But seriously, talk to him. We’re all tired of you pretending this isn’t something you want, whether you realize it or not.”

Theodore reluctantly nods, “fine. Fine, you’re right. I think I like my, what did you call him? Little badger?”

Mattheo grins and shifts away from Theo, looking a bit too happy for a man that just watched his friend cry over a crush.

“What are you so cheery about?” Theo raises an eyebrow as Mattheo gets up to return to the Astronomy Tower.

Mattheo throws a smirk over his shoulder as he lingers at the top of the stairs, “Enzo owes me a hundred galleons.”

“Wait! You two idioti bet on this?!”

Despite feeling somewhat better after his talk with Matt, Theo avoids you for the rest of the week. Come Wednesday morning, he’s sliding into the seat next to Mattheo in History of Magic, ignoring Enzo’s annoyed “Hey!” in protest and Mattheo’s side-eye.

He doesn’t turn around to see the disappointed look on your face as your books softly thunk on the desk behind him where you two usually sat. But he doesn’t miss the lack of usual flair the sound has. His heart aches.

“Riddle said you’d be in here.”

Your voice breaks through Theodore’s thoughts, pulling his eyes toward you walking up the steps and over to him.

He'd been finding himself coming back to the music room over and over again since he started avoiding you. He wasn't entirely sure why, maybe he just wanted to stop the dull ache of loneliness in the absence of you. He pushes the thought out of his mind.

You settle down on the rug next to him, jarringly similar to the position he'd been in with Mattheo a week ago. Only you were further away, and while he couldn't blame you, he hated it.

“Sorry for kissing you so suddenly, I just—I’d been wanting to for like a month and I guess I was hoping you wanted it too. I didn’t mean to scare you off.”

He quickly shakes his head, “no, don’t apologize, it was—I liked it. I’m sorry for running off like that. I think I got…overwhelmed. I didn’t exactly know I was, y’know, into guys before…you.” He forces it out despite his embarrassment, cheeks a light shade of pink.

You look at him with a small, somewhat sad smile, “it’s fine. Kinda reminds me of that day we properly met in Hogsmeade. You ran then too.” You pause briefly before adding, “and don’t worry about it, this is new for me too.”

Theo flushes more intensely at the memory as you turn your head to look around the music room. “I don’t think I’ve ever been in here before. Riddle had to give me directions...Why here?”

His mouth goes dry as he stares at you. “My, uh, my mum used to play the piano. She tried to teach me, but I couldn’t fully get it before…” he trails off for a moment before pushing past it, “I come here to feel close to her.”

A look of realization passes over your face, “oh, I—I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. I don’t really like to talk about it.”

A hesitant hand reaches out to rest on his knee. He didn’t even realize he’d relaxed his legs down from his chest. 

“We don’t have to talk about it, Teddy—”

He gasps at the nickname, soft and filled with raw emotion. “I want to.”

“She was… the only person I felt truly got me, before Mattheo at least. And she uh, she used to call me Teddy. So since she—” he hesitates, the finality of it all hitting him at once like it’s the first time he heard the news all over again, “since she died, I haven’t let anyone call me that.”

He sees the way your eyes soften further, but it’s not from pity, like he’d come to expect from the topic, no, it’s deeper than that. It’s empathy. “I didn’t know,” your voice is quiet, like you’re about to apologize, but truthfully that’s the last thing he wants. So he keeps speaking.

“She would have loved you.” His hand shifts to rest over yours, still on his leg. “She would have loved how…happy you make me. So, I want you to call me Teddy, please.” It comes out a bit more desperate than he intended, but when did anything ever go as planned when it came to you?

But you don’t run. You don’t look at him in disgust for showing emotion. You just nod with a soft, “okay Teddy.”

And god, that fluttering sensation is back. A small smile tugs on his lips; before he knows it he’s leaning forward, needing to be closer, as close as you’ll possibly let him. And this time, without any guilt or shame or fear, he kisses you.

And he feels like he’s drowning. Drowning in your lips, in your scent, in you. Like water filling his lungs, it burns so sweet. Surrender to the unknown, letting his lingering heartache and worries about his father’s expectations go until all that’s left is you.

It’s pure bliss. 

As your lips move together in sync, his body heats up and he finds himself craving more. He’s just received a taste, but he can already tell he’s going to be insatiable; the need to devour you, to become one with your very essence, is overwhelming. But he doesn’t run away. He pushes deeper. 

He feels your hand cupping his face, almost to steady yourself from falling over as his tongue brushes against your lips, begging, pleading for mercy. Like he’ll fall apart if you don’t let him explore every inch of you. Your lips part. 

Tongues dancing together, he pushes you down until your back hits the rug, his torso hovering over yours as his hands on either side of you hold him up. Your fingers caress his cheek, touch featherlight. 

The kiss lasts until neither of you can breathe, parting only to gasp and pant, inches from each other’s face. You suddenly laugh, a sweet sound that rivals the room’s quiet piano in its beauty.

“You’re still here,” your eyes search his, like you’re trying to find doubt in them, but there is none. He wants to kiss you like that for the rest of his life.

“I don’t think I’m scared anymore.”

Your arms coming up to wrap around his neck and pull him back into another kiss catches him off guard, but he melts into it like his body was made to meld with yours. It’s soft and sweet and feels like home.

The next morning at breakfast, you’re sitting next to him like you belong at the Slytherin table, at his side and getting acquainted with his friends. Enzo’s in the middle of asking you for details on which Hufflepuffs have the best weed when Draco comes over and sits down, an apprehensive look on his face. “I suppose this is something you just expect us to get used to?” 

“Yes.” It’s Mattheo who speaks, grabbing a bit of toast off Draco’s plate and taking a bite. “He makes Theo happy, he’s one of us now as far as I’m concerned.”

Enzo pipes up from beside him, “I’ll do anything to never have to listen to Theo hopelessly pine like that ever again.”

Draco huffs and as Theo’s about to say something, he hears you laugh softly next to him as your hand gently squeezes his thigh. “Just gonna have to live with some yellow brightening your mornings, Malfoy.” The other two boys snicker at the defeated look on Draco’s face and start to tease him that he’s just jealous Nott grew a pair and managed to ask someone out. But Theo barely notices.

He presses a kiss to your temple, heart fluttering as you grin up at him and for the first time in a long time, he’s happy.

[drcomttheo]

SLYTHERIN BOY ONESHOTS

SLYTHERIN BOY SHORT STORIES 18+

These are small excerpts from my Dramione fic "Inordinate Love" and my Draco X OC fic called "Amidst the Chaos."

Inordinate Love—ML Amidst The Chaos—ML

DRACO "WHO DID THIS?"

THEO "THE CHEF"

MATTHEO "MIX UP"

ENZO "POTIONS"

REGULUS "ASTRONOMY TOWER"

REGULUS "ASTRONOMY TOWER 2"

MATTHEO & DRACO "PARTY"

TOM "ECSTACY"

THEO "NOT TONIGHT"

MATTHEO "DESIRE"

BLAISE "LIBRARY"

THEO "BOY/GIRLFRIEND"

MATTHEO "NOT HERE"

THEO "STUDY"

ALL "TENSION"

ENZO "BUTTERBEERS"

DRACO "SPECIAL"

THEO "OFFICE"

TOM "SNACKS"

BLAISE "FIGHT"

TOM & MATTHEO "PICK ME"

REGULUS "YOURS"

THEO & ENZO "CLOUDS"

THEO "AUTUMN"

MATTHEO & THEO "THEY'RE MINE"

DRACO "IRRESISTIBLE"

MATTHEO "PLEASE"

TOM "NEED AND WANT"

THEO "MEETING"

MATTHEO "THE BET"

DRACO & THEO "TRUTH OR DARE"

REGULUS "PROPOSAL"

DRACO "PROTECT YOU"

ALL "CHEATER"

ALL "NEVER HAVE I EVER"

MATTHEO "HALLOWEEN GAME"

THEO "ANNIVERSARY"

BLAISE "SPOKEN FOR"

DRACO "STARS"

DRACO "BATHROOM"

MATTHEO & THEO "VALENTINE'S DAY"

THEO "ROAD TRIP"

DRACO "BEGGING"

MATTHEO "SICK"

DRACO "SPOKEN FOR"

ALL "GROUPCHAT"

ENZO "DADDY"

MATTHEO "DATE"

THEO "HI"

MATTHEO "BORED"

[girllblogging777]

INK AND INTENTIONS

tattoo artist! mattheo riddle x reader

↳ 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑑 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑡 : 1.5k

𝑠𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦 : you impulsively decide to get a tattoo to get over your cheating ex. the thing is, you didn’t expect the tattoo artist to be this handsome…

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

the first thing you noticed about him was his hands.

it wasn’t on purpose. it just… happened. the way his fingers drummed against the counter while he flipped through the appointment book, the silver rings catching the dim light of the tattoo shop. his knuckles were inked, veins prominent, like they were meant to do things… dangerous things.

you swallowed.

"you here for a tattoo, sweetheart, or just to stare?"

your eyes snapped up to meet his, and fuck. his gaze was heavy. dark brown, a little amused, a little challenging, like he knew exactly what he was doing. like he’d caught you in a trap and was just waiting to see how you’d squirm.

you squared your shoulders, pushing your hands into the pockets of your jacket. "i want to get ‘angel’ tattooed. lower back."

tatted guy’s lips curled at the edges, something slow and knowing. "angel, huh?" he let the word roll off his tongue like he was tasting it. "interesting choice. you don't really give off the angel vibe, love."

you rolled your eyes, ignoring the way your stomach flipped at the pet name. "i don’t think it’s your job to decide what vibe i give off."

he exhaled a quiet laugh through his nose, head tilting slightly, assessing you. "fair enough," he murmured, and then jerked his chin towards the back of the shop. "come on then. let’s get started."

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

you didn’t think it’d feel this intimate.

mattheo - that’s what you found out his name was - had told you to lay on your stomach, and now, with your shirt pushed up and the waistband of your jeans tugged slightly down, you were hyper-aware of everything. the cool air on your skin. the way your heart pounded against the leather chair. the fact that his hands.. merlin , his hands, were currently resting on your waist as he positioned you properly.

"you good?" his voice was lower now, quieter.

you hummed, pretending to be unaffected, even though you could feel the heat of his breath against your skin.

he chuckled, the sound rough and teasing. "yeah. you say you’re fine, but you’re stiff as hell. you need to relax for me, angel."

you inhaled sharply. “maybe if you stopped talking, i could relax."

that only seemed to amuse him more. he was enjoying this. the tension. the way you were fidgeting under his touch.

"feisty," he mused. "i like it."

before you could snap back, the buzzing of the tattoo gun filled the silence.

the first sting made you gasp. sharp, shocking. but the pain faded into something else. something warm. something grounding. the needle dragged against your skin in slow, precise strokes, and you could feel mattheo’s focus, the steady pressure of his palm against your hip as he worked.

you bit your lip, trying not to squirm.

"you’re doing good," he murmured after a few minutes.

your fingers clenched into fists at your sides. "don’t.”

"don’t what?"

"talk to me like that."

mattheo smirked, and even though you couldn’t see him, you knew.

"like what, angel?" his voice was dripping with amusement. “like I know exactly what you’re thinking right now?"

your pulse roared in your ears.

"you’re insufferable," you muttered, face burning.

"and you’re fucking adorable when you’re trying not to lose your mind."

you turned your head to glare at him, but the moment your eyes met, your breath hitched. He was already looking at you. like really looking at you, his dark eyes hooded, lips slightly parted.

it was unfair. the way he sat there, tattoo gun in one hand, the other resting so casually on your hip like it wasn’t driving you insane. like he wasn’t completely aware of what he was doing to you.

"you’re staring again," he murmured.

you forced yourself to scoff, even as heat pooled low in your stomach. "shut up."

mattheo just smirked.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

by the time he finished, your legs felt like jelly.

"all done," he said, wiping the tattoo gently before leaning back to admire his work. "you wanna take a look?"

you exhaled a breath you didn’t realize you were holding and sat up, moving carefully toward the mirror. when you turned slightly, twisting to get a glimpse, your heart did a weird little flip.

it was… beautiful.

the word angel curved perfectly along the dip of your lower back, delicate and elegant, but still bold enough to make a statement.

mattheo came up behind you, standing close enough that you could feel his warmth against your back. his voice was quiet, just for you.

"looks good on you," he murmured.

you swallowed, pulse hammering. "thanks."

his gaze lingered on yours in the mirror, something unreadable in his expression.

then, slowly, his lips quirked into a smirk.

"hope your ex sees it and loses his fucking mind."

you shook your head, turning away, reaching for your bag. “how do you know?”

mattheo leaned against the counter, giving you a smirk that suggested he already knew.

you sighed, running a hand through your hair. “he cheated. with some girl he met at a club. and i… stayed. for a while. tried to convince myself I could forgive him.” you let out a short, humorless laugh. “spoiler alert: i couldn’t.”

his expression shifted, just slightly. something darker, something dangerous flickering behind his gaze.

“some people don’t deserve second chances,” he said, voice smooth, measured.

you huffed. “yeah, well. i figured that out eventually.”

mattheo studied you for a second longer, then, just as easily as he always did, he smirked again. “don’t worry about paying.”

your brows furrowed. “what?”

he shrugged. “consider it a gift.”

you scoffed, shaking your head. “absolutely not. you did the work, i’ll pay for it.”

mattheo leaned in, just slightly. “or,” he murmured, “you could let me buy you a drink instead.”

“i’m not looking for anything,” you said quickly, the words tumbling out before you could stop them.

his smirk didn’t falter. if anything, it deepened, something wicked glinting in his eyes. “who said anything about something? no strings, angel. just a drink.”

your breath caught.

you should say no. you should. all the recent events had left you feeling empty, betrayed, and like you’d never find anyone else again.

but the way he was looking at you, the way he had looked at you all night, like he already knew you’d say yes, made your stomach flip. and maybe for once, you didn’t want to overthink it.

your lips parted, heartbeat hammering in your throat. “fine,” you murmured.

mattheo grinned. “good girl.”

and merlin.

maybe this was a terrible idea.

or maybe it was exactly what you needed

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

[sassatoru]

Dahlia with String then Burlap plsss

What about him and the reader being lovers in highschool. After his death ,the reader went mad and stuck at the age of 15 when he was still alive. After he got back,he visits her everyday since he believed there is still a way to get his girl back 😭

COME HOME TO ME

pairing. jason todd x reader

warning. angst to fluff, character death + revival, age regression, reader in a psych ward

a/n. i really liked this prompt thank you

“hey baby,” jason whispered, his hand on the glass separating the two of you, oh how he wished he could break this down and take you home. but he knows that you wouldn’t react well to being taken.

you don’t reply, your eyes are staring forward. they’re so dull now, not like the girl he loved when he was younger, his girl.

you’re wearing one of the hoodies he left here for you. you may not recognise his face and voice but you’d never forget the way he smelt, you used to tease him for the pine smell but now it was all you had left of him.

“baby,” jason calls out again, a little louder this time. “come on, doll. look at me, it’s me. it’s jay.” jason wants to cry, he wants you back, he wants you home, his voice is pleading, there’s a lump in his throat when you finally look at him.

you shake your head at him, “you’re not my jay.”

jason feels like he’s dying again, it feels the same. he feels like he’s dying inside, the breath leaving his lungs, eyes closing and he can hear that bomb again. the maniacal laughter of the bastard that killed him, the sound of his skull cracking under the force of the crowbar.

because he’s not really your jay, is he? no, he knows he isn’t. that boy died a long time ago, but jason can be jay, because you need jay, not jason.

“yes i am, baby.” it’s me, doll.

when did baby turn to doll, he wonders. another sign that he’s changed.

“look at me, really look at me.”

and you do you look into his green eyes— green? that can’t be right, jay’s eyes were an icy blue you adored dozing off to. but there is something familiar in the way this man looks at you, like you could massacre cities and he’d still love you.

but he can’t be jay, your jay died.

you shake your head again, turning away from him to curl up on the bed — jason has to remember to say thanks to bruce for getting you somewhere that takes care of you — to hide from him.

“baby don’t go,” he whispers.

this was routine by now, everyday for the last three months he came here. to sit by the glass that separates you from him. and everyday you do the same thing, refuse to believe him.

“baby, don’t you remember me? remember that day we snuck into the theatre, in the roof and took out that part of the ceiling so we could watch? and you said—”

“—we’re like ninjas.”

a smile crosses his lips, and he laughs. your heart flutters and you peek a look at him, only to find his staring right back at you. “hi baby.”

“jay,” you mumble, he nods.

“that’s right, doll. it’s jay.”

“doll?” you ask.

he shrugs, “maybe it’s time for something new.”

“i like it,” you say.

it takes weeks before you’re discharged. the doctors don’t believe the sudden change in you, the hallucinations suddenly gone, you’re not seeing a teenage lover, you don’t believe you’re 15 anymore.

they run their test but nothing wrong comes back. jason takes you home at the end of it all.

it’s different, the way he walks, or talk, the way he stands. so different yet so familiar. he’s bigger, not the scrawny boy you knew, his size triples yours.

he laughs when you mention it to him.

he keeps his distance, trying to keep you comfortable but you want him closer. you want him to hold you, more than anything you want to curl up next to him, letting some corny horror movie you play in the background, you’d jump despite knowing the jump scares are coming, and he’d tease you, promise to keep the monsters away. before he screamed himself, and you laughed, fingers running through his hair.

his hair was different too, still black but he had that white streak in it. you told him you liked it, he gave up on trying to dye it.

he stays with you at night, holding your hand when you wake up from the nightmares of losing him.

it takes months before he holds you, causally like he used to. hands dragging along your hips when he walks past you. he coddles you months later despite your insistence that you can take care of yourself.

you don’t get over the years of your life you lost, but you both have that in common. your life started and ended together. now you get another chance to start again.

jason won’t leave you again. jay won’t let you hurt again.

© e-nonsense. do no copy/steal/translate. do it and I’ll bite your toes off

[weasleyreidstyles]

Serendipity

chapter eighteen

summary: it was only meant to be a purely transactional relationship. he would help her strengthen her abilities in return for her getting his friends out of his father's nasty path. he didn't mean to fall for her, but loving her was the easiest thing in his dark world.

no use of y/n, but your general nickname is Meadow. all characters are aged up to be over 18.

pairings: mattheo riddle x fem!ravenclaw reader; platonic!slytherins x fem!reader; platonic!golden trio x fem!reader

warning(s): angst, very little fluff (its there but barely!), canonical death, canonical violence, nightmare trope!, mentions of anxiety and allusion to a panic attack

series masterlist; previous part; next part

"Sirius had a brother-" you whisper, your voice betraying your sadness at the thought of the eccentric man.

"Yes. His name was Regulus Black."

"Regulus Black?" Enzo mumbles to himself, as if he was testing the name on his tongue.

"He was Slytherin's star seeker in the seventies." Blaise said in barely restrained awe. "People said that he was an enigma. Always quiet and observing."

"That is a bona fide assessment of my cousin." Andromeda's low voice sounded from the doorway, the head of her husband visible in the room behind where she stood. "He was always calculating something in that brilliant brain of his."

The smile on her face is as reminiscent as it is stricken with grief. Remus turns to her with the same look simmering in his chocolate irises.

"I don't understand." Pansy says quietly. "My father always said that he was enthusiastic about being a Death Eater. Him and his friends. That Voldemort trusted him implicitly. And you're saying he was spy the whole time?"

"That was the whole point of his undercover work." Remus mused with a grim look. "He was so trusted by Voldemort that he didn't even suspect that Regulus might be the one threatening to unravel all of his intricate work."

"If you knew of the horcruxes during the first war, why isn't it a widely known thing now?" Mattheo's deep rasp travels through you like silky butter, sending a shiver down your spine.

"Because we didn't implicitly know what Regulus was searching for. Not until Dumbledore told us of what he and Harry discovered in light of what happened when you," He looked pointedly in your direction, "reacted the way you did to the dark magic swimming in Miss Bell's veins. Every time Regulus would try, his Mark burned. None of us knew just how detrimental his searching was."

"But he succeeded, didn't he? If he found the one you say was a fake." Enzo asked your old professor, eyes alight with curiosity.

"There's more than one." Mattheo says, surprising you all, except Andromeda, who looks as if this information too wasn't new. "Several actually. There was my father's old diary, the ring, this locket-"

He pauses, head swimming with thoughts of the many possibilities.

"Nagini was always whispering about it in the years she'd turn up at Theo's home to torment me. But she always spoke in riddles. There could be more, there probably is more but I don't know what they could be. Something significant to my father, though."

"But how do they work?" Pansy asks, looking between Mattheo and the adults.

"He murdered innocent people to split his soul." Mattheo says resentfully. And though his face is expressionless, you read his shame as if it was there, clear as day.

"So that's how he survived? He severed his soul and tethered himself to the Earth?" Theo's head was slightly tilted to the side, eyes alight with curiosity.

The thought alone sends a wave of colossal dread through you all.

"We believe so, yes. But knowing just how many there are will be crucial if we are to win this war." Andromeda said quietly, before her husband entered the room with a bright smile, despite the stale tension that permeated the air of the tiny kitchen.

"Ready to go, love?" He questions his wife, voice laden with a love that hadn't faded in the years that you'd known the couple through your parents.

"Yes, dear." She mumbles, her hard exterior crumbling from her face for only a split second before the mask has slipped back into place. Ted kisses his wife on the cheek before gently moving her out of the way of the door frame where he comes to being you into a brief hug. One that you fall into without hesitation.

"Will you be alright out here on your own?" He asks you quietly and you nod your head, which is nestled on his shoulder.

"I'll be fine, Ted. Don't worry about me." Please be safe! Your mind is screaming the notion into existence.

Ted is in far more danger than you will ever be; not only was he a muggleborn, but Andromeda had a long list of estranged family members who would not bat an eyelid if Ted Tonks suddenly disappeared. In fact, they'd probably rejoice over his death, before making a martyr out of Andromeda.

He smiles at you in understanding, as if he knows what you don't voice out loud, before he turns you around so that you're both looking out of one of the kitchen windows.

"Just down that hill, about two miles away is a quaint little village. There's a café that is also a bookshop. I think you'd like it there if it ever gets too crowded here."

"Thank you." You say with a grin and he gives you a friendly squeeze before he makes his way back to his wife, who smiles softly at the two of you.

"I'll visit in a few weeks, to see if everything is still standing." Andromeda says, the ghost of a smirk lining her face as she looks between you and your usually raucous friends. Blaise and Enzo share conspiratorial looks, mischief gleaming in their eyes.

"I'll come back in a week with your first assignment. Give you all a chance to settle in." Remus says, nodding at the three newly anointed Order spies, which sobers the mischief, before he too bids farewell.

With a loud crack, they're gone.

~∞~

The following weeks were certainly odd, to say the least. It was almost like the six of you were on a neverending holiday on some days, spending your days roaming the little muggle village, but then on other days, reality would come crashing down, reminding all of you what was at stake.

It was usually Remus who delivered their assignments; it was always Remus who came once you sent your patronus to Headquarters alerting them of the boys' safe return.

About a month in, he'd arrived with Kingsley Shacklebolt, who had eyed you all with barely restrained mistrust as Remus delivered the brief: find out where Charity Burbage was being held captive and do it quickly and carefully. Luckily there was a meeting scheduled for the end of that week that the boys were expected to attend.

They had left within minutes of briefing them and with a crack, Mattheo, Theo and Enzo had left for Malfoy Manor, leaving you, Blaise and Pansy to occupy yourselves in the meantime.

Hours later, after trying to stomach a lacklustre dinner amidst your shared anxieties, the three of you are huddled together in the living room, chatting quietly about the books you were reading, when the mistakable crack of apparition sounded in the silence of night, then three loud knocks branded the front door.

Blaise took it upon himself to see who it was, and upon seeing their sullen faces, let the three boys in.

Immediately you can tell that something bad has happened.

Enzo doesn't bother greeting the three of you like he normally does as he storms off upstairs to his room; Theo heads straight for the garden door, a pack of cigarettes already in his possession and Mattheo looks positively murderous.

Blaise and Pansy seem to come to an understanding and they go in opposite directions, towards where Theo and Enzo disappeared to, leaving you and Mattheo alone. He doesn't even look like he's present in the moment and your heart aches for him.

"Théo?" You ask, voice barely louder than a whisper. But it knocks him from his stupor as he takes hold of your hand in his, soft against his angry callouses. "Lets go upstairs."

He agrees gruffly, voice low and rough, eyes shining with the onslaught on unshed tears.

Slowly the two of you make your way to the bedroom you share, silence engulfing the two of you, leaving only the sound of your breathing to fill the space. When you enter the room, Mattheo practically collapses onto the bed, body spent from the sheer exhaustion of the evening.

"What happened?" You ask softly, sitting against the headboard and guiding his head into your lap. Mattheo keens into you as you run gentle hands through his unruly hair.

The tears flow shortly after you start and your heart breaks for him.

"She's dead." He says, his voice raspy, catching in his throat. "Professor Burbage is dead."

Your breath hitches in your throat as your eyes fill with tears. Professor Burbage was sunshine personified. She always had a smile on her face despite what the Purebloods said about her affliction to muggle culture. She was beloved by all the muggleborns and the staff; was one of Dumbledore's favourites. And she was a valued member of The Orderof the Pheonix, as an emissary to the muggle authorities. She was a valuable member. Now she was gone.

"H-how did she die?" You whisper hesitantly, for you don't know if the closure of knowing would be worth it.

"My father-" Mattheo shuddered. "He set Nagini on her. He didn't even give her the mercy of a quick death."

Whenever his eyes blink shut, he can see the terror behind the teary eyes of the Professor as she stared between the four boys and Severus Snape while Nagini slithered towards her suspended body. He sees the way her eyes fill with dread as no one comes to her aid. Can see the moment of acceptance as her cries suddenly dull to a staggering silence.

He fears that he won't ever sleep peacefully again. The only saving grace is that you'll never have to witness something like it, if he has his way.

"Gods." You say in disbelief, and you hold onto Mattheo a little tighter at the thought. "We need to tell Remus."

"Not yet." He says and he abruptly sits up from his place.

"Why not? He asked you to find out what happened to her. He needs to know." You argue, but you can already see his stubbornness take effect.

"I said not yet." He retorts with anger painting his features. Your brows furrow in offence. He hadn't spoken to you in such a manner in months.

But you can see how his entire resolve has continued to crumble from the moment he stepped over the threshold. Sp instead of arguing back like you want to, for the sake of getting the information to Remus, you agree and wordlessly huide his head to rest in your lap once again.

"Okay. But as soon as we wake in the morning, I'm going to tell him."

Mattheo mumbles his response into the fabric of your leggings, eyes fluttering shut at the feeling of your fingers brushing through his hair, lightly scratching at his scalp.

He falls into a light sleep and you're content to fall asleep sat up with him, as long as he was peaceful.

~∞~

He's back there again.

In the seat at the right hand side of his father. When the three of them had arrived at Malfoy Manor for the meeting, Mattheo could feel an unmistakable shift in the air.

The way his father's face twisted into a sinister smirk made his insides curl in dreaded anticipation.

"My loyal followers!" He says, arms outstretched as he addressed the sea of Death Eaters who were watching their master in rapt attention. "I have a special treat for you all tonight."

The feeling of dread made Mattheo's stomach drop even further. He didn't need to look to see that Theo, Enzo and Draco felt the same sense of foreboding.

Voldemort wanders around the table, stopping behind where Lucius was sat, before he snatches the wizard's wand from the table with a deadly snicker of a laugh. Draco does not look at his father's humiliated expression.

"I have brought you all a little...gift of sorts."

With a flourish of Lucius' wand, and to Mattheo's utter horror, Charity Burbage appears in front of their very eyes, arms and legs bound together with a brutal looking rope and mouth magically gagged shut.

He feels sick.

He barely hears as his father mocks her, telling the Death Eaters that she was encouraging young wizards and witches to mate with Muggles, thus polluting the Wizarding World with more Halfbloods and Muggleborns all while she cannot defend herself or ask those she recognises for help.

All Mattheo can comprend is that Nagini has found her way towards her dangling prey and Charity's magically bound gag has been removed.

"Severus.." her pleading eyes fall on her old old. "Please! Help me!"

Snape's eyes have not moved from a spot on the wall behind her flailing body. They don't move from that spot as Nagini prepares to strike.

Mattheo grips the arm rests of his seat as he stares blankly ahead, the sounds of his Professor's shrieks and painful screams as her flesh is torn apart is all his can hear.

And then her screams turn into a familiar tone; instead of his Professor, it's you who is suspended above the snake. Your horrifying screams permeate every corner of his skull until its all he can hear.

You're begging him to help you, but he cannot move. His limbs are glued to his seat as his father laughs manically at your expense.

His mind won't even grant him to ability to block it out. Your screams are all he can hear until his father finally utters the killing blow.

"Avada Kedavra!"

Your body drops to a heap on the floor. And then, Nagini feasts.

Mattheo wakes with a start, only to be met by your wary face staring down at him. Gods he feels like he can't breathe.

"I know. I know." He hears your reassurance as clear as day, but he can't breathe.

You place one of his clammy feeling hands against your chest, where your heart beats calmly despite the gravity of the situation. He feels the way you exaggerate your breathing, hoping he can follow.

He does so and eventually he calms down enough to wipe the sweat from his hands and his forehead.

"You're okay. Your safe." You're still holding his hand to your chest, thumb stroking over the small scars that litter his knuckles.

"It was you." He mumbles breathlessly, tears falling from his onyx eyes. "You were in her place and I did nothing to save you. I couldn't save you."

Your heart breaks for him.

"Oh love." You whisper, pulling his body into your's and wrapping him into a tight hug. "I'm here and I'm safe. I'm not going anywhere."

"It felt so real." He says into the skin of your neck, his hot breath fanning iver your sensitive skin.

"It wasn't real, Mattheo." You reaffirm, moving so that your hands cradled both sides of his face, your eyes meeting his. "It was only a dream. I'm not going anywhere."

"You promise?" He hated that he sounded so weak...so vulnerable. But he could always be himself around you, could always count on you to make him feel anything but empty and numb.

"I promise you, Mattheo Riddle." you say, your lips tilting up with a slight smile that he mirrors. You press a light kiss to his chapped lips which he reciprocates in earnest.

Your souls ignite as one and it feels as if a weight has simultaneously been placed and lifted on your shoulders all at once.

Remus would be alerted in the next few hours, but for now, Mattheo let you guide him to a lying position where he layed safely in your arms.

He did not dream of your screams for the rest of the night, but it would haunt him for the rest of his life. That he was certain of.

~∞~

this one is so so so short but i've actually taken so long to get this one written up

also from this point theres just a whole lot of angst (just a little prewarning🫡)

taglist:

(striked out users are ones that i couldn't tag)

@camille-1019 @lovelyygirl8 @xluansstuff @babeylover @thejadeazalea @undercover-smutlover @adhxmoony @dreamingofonceuponatime @thepassionatereader @urmomsgayforme5 @aphroditeisamilf @devotedlycrookeddonut @purplegirls-posts @nofacenonamelikekira @foxboyapologist @lafrone @lovely-maryj @nromanovaswife @leeknows-wife @dracygf @wildlyobserving @ravenclawprincess33 @melllinaa @vellicora @lantsovheiress @emiliahoward @stunkbiggu @vcosette @prongsprincessworld @mattiesgirl @rachmmb @x-kermit-x @sun-fiower-seed @cas-planet @certaindreampost @weirdowithnobeardo @mikalovesicecream @benwadsworthsgf @rainy-darling @faeriepigeons @lovely-blackinnon @hiireadstuff @gimalo135 @elsafromcabinsix @moonlightreader649 @blueshome @nopedefe @spencerreidsthings @navs-bhat @agent-tempest @magimtz23 @y0urm0m12 @sbrn0905 @leona-hawthorne @whatsupb18

[nepentheansea]

Better Unspoken

© nepentheansea all works are my own and contain mature content!

𝒎𝒂𝒊𝒏 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 ・𝑯𝒂𝒓𝒓𝒚 𝑷𝒐𝒕𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝑼𝒏𝒊𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒆

premise: Theo isn't sure how much more he can take without telling you what you mean to him.

pairing: Theodore Nott x Fem!Reader

warnings: angst, swearing... My type of Love Confession!!!

wc: 2.8K

a/n: I'm sorry. <3

His strides seemed to slow, the once steady pace that you had set, had fallen short. You were leading, blissfully unaware of the lack of companionship by your side in the moment. Theo had fallen victim to the very thoughts that plagued him, letting them dictate his every move as he watched you trudge forward, back up to the castle doors, happily. He watched as you laughed to yourself at the conversation you were seemingly having with him. He watched the snow fall onto your cheeks, instantly melting at your touch, or the way it coated your beanie and coat. He was mesmerised by you, every little thing that you did, he was mesmerised. You had been with one of his closest friends for some time now, and yet he couldn't seem to be happy for you, for Enzo, and it was simple really, he couldn’t because it wasn't him that you were happy with. 

“Crazy, righ- Theo?” You turned around, stopping in your tracks to face him. His hands were stuffed deep into his pockets and his body ridgid. “Are you okay?” You spoke so softly, your words so caring and delicate as you approached him. Theo made no move, no gesture towards you, it was only a numb look. His gaze fell to the imprinted snow beneath your feet, studying it as if it had the answer to his questions. It had been eating him alive. This past year tearing him apart little by little, and he wasn't sure that he could keep it to himself any longer. He felt as though he had to tell you, no matter the consequences, he just had to. Your voice, softly calling his name again, had him looking back up at you, his eyes soft and sorrowful, and it scared you. He took a step forward, leaning his head down slightly before he opened his mouth, taking a deep breath. 

“I have to tell you something, and I….” He was struggling to find the words, glancing around like he was waiting for someone to help him out. 

“What is it, Theo? Can it wait till we get to the cast-” you start, before he cuts you off, taking another step towards you in desperation. 

“y/n….please just listen to me…”

“Oka-what do you mea-” you started, a hint of panic in your tone. His suddenty was making you nervous, that is until realisation hit you. Standing there, staring up at him, the crazed look in his eyes, and you knew. Knew what he meant, what he wanted to say. You could see what was hiding behind that look, the soft yearning, and need for understanding, the pleading, far before it had even begun. There was no coming back from what he was about to say, nothing that could be done to stop it, but you had to try. You shook your head, your breath hitching the moment he took another step forward, mere inches from where you stood. You held your breath, staring at him, nearly frozen out of fear. 

“Theo, please. Don't do this, please don't do this-” It was barely a whisper that left you, and he heard it, you knew he had, but it didn’t stop him. He moved forward, frantically reaching out for you as if he would never get the chance to touch you again, as his hands met your arms, grabbing them as he lowered himself just enough to be level to you. 

“I have too, I have to tell you how I fee-” He started. You could hear the urgency dripping off of each word, the way he seemed to speak as if he was fearful that he would never get his chance to say it again. His eyes darted between your own, a glass like glaze over the soft shade of blue, as he searched for some type of understanding behind them.

“No Theo, no you don’ t, you don-” It was almost a whine, an involuntary beg on your part, as you pulled from his grasp, and yet made no movement to get away from him. 

“Y/n, please, you have to understand, I can’t help it, i can’t just stop it, you know that, you know I can’t-” 

“Theo think! Please! Think about Enzo..” you tried, tried to make him think about his lifelong friend, the one that stood between the pair of you and everything that Theo wanted. “He is your best friend, your best friend! Please, please think about that before you say what you are about to say. Theo pleas-”

“I know, I know he is, trust me I know-” there it was again, the shaky breath, the soft tones of imploration. 

“Enzo, Theo-” you pleaded, forcing back tears that were on the cusp of escaping.

“And I know that! I know that y/n, and I love him like a brother I promise you I do, but I can’t just sit by. I can’t! Not without telling you how I feel, y/n please-” he implored, his hands coming up to reach for you again, only to fall flat by his side when you shy away from him. He hated this, seeing the way you were fighting him, the way you were pleading with him to stop, but he couldn’t let you. Perhaps it came down to some diluted fantasy, one where you would allow him to tell you how he felt, one where you would see what he meant, see his desperation and the desire for you, that you would have some type of understanding and would chose him, and sure he knew that wasn't going to be the case, but he had to hope. 

“Theo…” you mutter, your heart breaking for him, for the wounded way he was looking at you, for the way his hands were nearly clasped together as if he were in prayer begging for forgiveness. “Theo ple-”

“Y/n I am in love with you, and I can't just make it go away…I can’t-I can’t, and I can’t by any means keep it to myself..not anymore, y/n. Not when it is killing me little by little..” he couldn’t seem to stop himself as he spoke. His voice hoarse and broken as the confession that he had been holding in for only merlin knows how long now, was pouring from him as if he had no control over it anymore in floods of pathetic desperation. Perhaps he didn’t have any control. Perhaps the lie that he had been living was tearing him apart piece by piece, and the only way to soothe it was to get it out to you, to explain and pray that you could understand, no matter the repercussions it was sure to have. It had begun to take its toll on him, watching you with Enzo, pretending that he was nothing but happy for the pair of you. It consumed him, driving him to mere madness and this felt like the only way to solve it, and he hated it. He hated himself for it, for thinking that it was okay, that maybe there was a chance he could steal you for himself, a chance that you would want him just as much as he wanted you. He hated himself for doing this behind his best friends back without so much as a care. It was so unbelievable selfish and he knew that, but he didn’t care, he couldn’t care not when he had spent all this time loving you, watching you, needing you. He knew what this could mean for his relationships with not only you, but Enzo too, and he was willing to throw it all away for that small sliver of hope that you would return his feelings. 

Theo took a deep shaky breath, trying his hardest to read your thoughts, to see if he could understand even the slightest bit of what you were feeling towards him, but the moment your lips parted, he panicked, fear consuming him. He couldn’t let you speak out towards his admission, he couldn’t let you stop him. 

Your hand reached up to silence him, to cover his mouth and cease the flow of the poison he was trying to spew, but it was of no use, he was faster. He reached out grabbing ahold of your hands, soothingly running his thumbs gently over the tops of them, appalled at how cold your touch was. Your hands were frozen, you were cold, and here he was, selfishly keeping you outside the castle walls, simply for his own greed. He couldn’t feel nature's effect, not anymore, not while fuelled with pure adrenaline, but you, a poor innocent bystander in this, could. He clamped your hands together, hoping that covered by his, could find some warmth in them. 

“Y/n…I can’t…I can’t go on like this, knowing that I feel this way.” He was breaking, and you could see it. He needed you to feel something other than an undeniable no. He needed reassurance that this, what he was confessing wasn’t for nothing, but you couldn’t give him that, not now. You wanted to reach out for him, to offer him some type of comfort no matter how small, but what would that fix? Nothing, and though you hated to admit it, you were afraid that it might not only give him some senses of hope, but also that it would do nothing more than confuse not only him, but you. You loved Theo, you always had, and perhaps not in the way that he did for you, or at least never to the degree that he was experiencing. There was a small sliver of you that once wanted him the way he wanted you now, and that small sliver was begging you on its own to let him continue to pour his heart out. But you loved Enzo, and you had for some time now. You loved him and who you were with him, and nothing was worth risking that over. All you could do was to shake your head, soft desperate ‘no’s escaping you, praying, no, pleading that he would stop, that he would give up, because it wasn’t fair, none of it was. You sunk your teeth, feebly into your quivering bottom lip, slowly shaking your head, your eyes flooded with unreleased tears. You weren’t breathing, holding onto that breath like a tether, as you waited. 

“I have to make you understand…I can’t spend another moment listening to the stories of you and Enzo, knowing that it should be by your side, that it should be me taking care of you, making you smile and laugh, making you happy every waking chance that I can… I can’t take more of pretending that it doesn't hurt me, or that I’m okay when I'm really not.  Y/n, please, I am begging you…make it stop, please for me…. Tell me you- tell me you love me or- no, just tell me you love m-….” he couldn’t finish his sentence, the words caught in the back of his throat as he looked down at you with those soft pleading eyes, that glass-like look to his eyes now one filled with tears of his own, but the tears that were beginning to fall from your eyes held him captive, they silenced him. 

He could feel his world shattering before him as he looked at you, could feel you pulling away in ways that he knew he couldn’t follow, couldn’t pull you back from. He had single handedly ruined the only thing in his life that had any meaning to him whatsoever. You were slipping from him, and knew that no matter what he did, there was no going back. Nothing was going to fix this, it had been ruined beyond repair, and it was killing him. He couldn’t stand to see that pitiful look reflected on your face, the one that confirmed everything he was thinking, the one that caused him to stop breathing in a moment of lasting heartbreak, the one that filled him with horror. It was over, he was certain of it.  He couldn’t be your friend, not after what he had just told you, not when he knew that you would go back and tell Enzo, not when he knew you hated him, and that he was sure of. 

It wasn’t the truth though, you didn’t hate him, you weren’t even sure that that was something that you were capable of even doing when it came to Theo, but you couldn’t lie, you hated what he had done. You hated it because it meant that no matter what he or you wanted, things were no longer going to be the same. You couldn’t give him what he needed, craved, and you hated that. Theo deserved the world, but a world that you couldn’t offer him. The tears were rolling freely from your eyes now, staining your blushed stained cheeks. All semblances of the cold were lost on you, you felt nothing but numb, and remorseful, even a little bit angry. He had ruined something that was so utterly good, and thought you were angry at him for that, you couldn’t really blame him. You felt as though your heart had sunk like a bag of stones into your gut, weighing heavy as you fought the urge to keep your gaze on him. It was over, and you didn’t know what to say. You wanted to lash out on him, shove him back and tell him to say it was all a cruel joke, because maybe then you could forgive him, forget it, but you knew that no matter how much you wanted that, it wouldn’t be the truth. He had said his piece, and what was done was done.

“That's-that's not fair.” you cried, holding onto your composure with a literal thread. You pulled your hands from him, using your index finger to shove it into his hard chest. “That is not fucking fair! That's bullshit, Theo!” you couldn’t hold back the tears, the aggression, the ache in your chest, and you wanted him to know. He groaned, exhaling that single breath that he was clinging too, as you repeatedly jabbed your finger into his chest. 

“You don’t! You don’t get to ask that of me! You dont get to say that, not now, not fucking now! You- you don't-..” you argued through clenched teeth, but your voice trailed off. It was as if you were at a loss for the right words. Nothing that you were going to say would really express how you felt, how torn you were, nor were they going to repair any of it. He took a step towards you, ready to reach for you, and you shuffled back, nearly tripping over your own blasted feet. “No. no you’re mean, and you're selfish…” you blurted. tears rolling down your face, your breathing coming out in jagged spurts.  

Merlin, he would do anything to go back and hold onto what he had said, to pretend like he wasn’t being destroyed by his feelings for you. Back to pretending that whenever he heard the latest of your relationship with his best friend, it didn't wound him more than any physical ailment he could ever experience. Anything to see you smile, and drone on about this and that, rather than to have your cold, accusatory finger being shoved into his heart. Quite literally anything and he would do it, no matter the costs. That's when it hit him. Shoving his hand into the depths of his coat pocket, his fingers carefully wrapped around his wand, looking at you with such a shattering look of sorrow. He was sorry, so unbelievably sorry. Sorry he hurt you, sorry that it confused you, sorry that he ruined his relationship with you, and even more so, sorry that he had told you. 

“I’m so sorry..” was all he could offer in respite. 

You huffed, brushing him off as you staggered back, as he repeated soft ‘i’m sorry’s. You sighed, fighting ever urge to tell him to fuck off.

“Fuck you, Theo..” you sighed, turning your back to him for a brief moment, wiping the tears from your eyes with your sleeve, trying desperately to get them to stop.

“Obliviate,” he muttered, and you didn't even have the time to react, to turn around and deflect, before a soft haze set over you. He watched as the silver glow at the end of his wand faded, before slowly lowering it to his side. He wasn’t sure that he could do this again, to be your friend after what he had done. Being so close to you, but not being able to have you, or to tell you what you meant to him, because after all was said and done, you weren’t his, you never were, and he knew now, that you never would be.