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slytherinboysappreciation · 4 hours

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maybe a little drabble or oneshot about theo who's usually not shaken by anything or anyone but he get's super flustered when confident!reader starts flirting with him💕

Gobsmacked - Theo Nott blurb

a/n: hehe loved writing this, muah bb for the idea and thanks to @suugarbabe for helping me with some of the dialogue <3 cute divider found here wording: 840 Warnings: f!reader

He watched from afar, eyes drinking in your every move, the lively chatter that bubbled around you, laughter buzzing from the surrounding audiences. Mostly aggregating sucks ups who sought advantage in your kindness, at least that was Theo’s clouded impression. His fingers lift the dying cigarette to his lips, inhaling the last sweet release of nicotine as it fills his lungs.

The afternoon sun shone upon you, radiating the sweet glow of your face, the epitome of sweetness displayed in your expressions. His eyes stayed trained on you, struggling to comprehend how someone could be so mesmerizing, even by the little things they did. From the way you walked gracefully, with a spring in your steps or to how you carried your books, a generally simple task, could entice him in, admiring the way you held them close to your chest tenderly, almost protectively.

Merlin, you were fucking pretty.

At the sight of you departing the crowd and heading inside, Theo stood with eager legs following you, ambling afterwards with a determined goal set in place. Flicking the butt of the cigarette in the nearby bin, his mind whirled with positive thoughts. Today was the day he’d speak to you. You had been quite the challenge in trying to approach, that was clear by the multiple of others accumulating around you. Something Theo wasn't used to, making him stall his advances.

Not that Theo was afraid of seeking you out amongst a crowd, knowing undoubtedly he could grab a girl's attention, even in a throng of other guys. Confidence wasn’t what he was lacking, but rather he found gratification in hitting on a girl alone. Quite presumptuous of him, relishing in the cat-and-mouse ploy that occurred, watching a girl get flustered from the direct, intimate conversation.

Theo knew now as he trailed behind you entering the library that once he got you alone, he’d be able to win you over. It normally only took one or two lines before a girl was swooning at his feet, and from how he had studied you, he was quite convinced you wouldn’t be any different. His usual surge of confidence pulsed through him while he made his way towards the desk you had situated yourself at. Helping himself to a chair he sat, his tall frame looming over you even while seated. A brash grin stretches on his face as he opens his mouth to give his signature line.

Taken by surprise at the sudden interruption, the sound of a chair creaking and the darkness that loomed over your lighting had you lifting your eyes, instantly consumed by a vision of deep blue orbs gleaming. The infamous debauchery Theodore Nott had been anything but subtle lately. It had been easy to take notice of the tall boy observing you within the shadows of his own Slytherin pack. You knew he was probably there to give you a line, but instead chose to beat him at his own game.

“Oh, if it isn’t the Italian Stallion himself,” a small smirk graced your plush lips. “That is what they call you, isn’t it?” Tilting your head in a cheeky manner, watching a pink hue cross over the freckles of Theo’s cheeks. “Well, I am flattered to have caught your undivided attention. It is my attention you want, right? That’s why you’ve been staring at me all those times. So sweet can’t seem to take your eyes off of me, can you honey?” You watch his cheeks flush redder, his mouth parting slightly. It was an amusing sight, seeing someone who oozed confidence freeze up, causing you to smile complacently.

“Cat got your tongue, pretty boy? You’re looking a little shaken up there for a confident lad like yourself.” You couldn't resist the opportunity to continue teasing the flustered boy rendered speechless at your bold words. Unable to help yourself, your hand reaches across to pull out a trick you’d seen him do a dozen of times, caressing his face gently, you tauntingly move his jaw side to side playfully. “Aw, are you blushing? Is this the first time? Am I witnessing a momentary occasion in history?” You keep going, voice laced with a distinct mockery, and hints of sarcasm with your sharp tongue on a roll, basking in his silence. It takes all your strength not to explode into a fit of giggles as Theo's jaw still hangs open. Moving your fingers, you push at his chin, closing his mouth for him. “Don’t go catching flies, Theodore.” Your eyes gleam with a playful tease.

His astonished expression marks your cue to leave, as you gather your belongings, not wanting to spoil the moment, soaking in the satisfaction of playing Theo at his own game. At your leave into the depths of the library, Theo stays sat behind at the worktable, watching your figure disappear amongst the scrapers of bookshelves. Wracking his brain on how the bloody fuck you had just bested him at his own game. And why it made him that much more infatuated with you.

masterlist

#I LOVE THIS!!!#OH MY GODS THIS IS SO GOOD!!!#the way theo starts out all cocky only to have a taste of his own teasing medicine??#AHHH I LOVE IT!!!#flustered theo just may be my new favorite version of theo!#theodore nott #theo nott

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slytherinboysappreciation · 17 hours

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mattheo riddle | focus.

PAIRING: Mattheo Riddle x Fem!Reader

SUMMARY: you thought you were just going to have a peaceful night with your boyfriend, cuddling while watching the newest episode of The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills. you thought.

WORD COUNT: 4.1k. (i’m sorry?)

TAGS: 18+, SMUT MDNI, praise kink, some teasing, matty being an absolute dawg per usual, unable to keep those delicious hands to himself, maybe like the tiniest bit of degradation, fingering, multiple orgasm, PIV, doggy/prone-bone, um yeah the usual filth i provide.

DEDICATION: this was a little bday gift for my lovely friend @pizzaapeteer🤍 hope u had the best day bbygirl ilysm!

"Matt," you exhaled your boyfriends name, leisurely rubbing your tired eyes. "...any minute now, please."

A muffled yawn from inside the bathroom was the only outward sign of his acknowledgment before he appeared in the doorframe--like a vision materializing from a dream. Your groggy eyes clung to his shadow, watching as he lazily sauntered toward you--looking cozy, yet as exhausted as ever.

It’d been a busy day for you both, between his quidditch tournament finally drawing to a close and your ruthless potions exam--you’d found yourselves lacking routine, your schedules treacherously out of sync--because not only had you not seen each other since this morning, the way the day had started was frantic enough to send your mood into sours so intense it’d make a fucking lemon grimace.

There was no cuddles, no intimate shower time, and certainly no morning sex. The only bout of intimacy Mattheo was able to steal from you was a quick peck on the cheek before you scurried out the door, desperate to cram in as much studying as you could.

It was safe to say that by this point, the two of you were fucking spent, slightly annoyed, and most certainly, drained. And all you’d been thinking about--for the entirety of your day, was getting to snuggle, catch the latest episode of your favourite muggle/guilty-pleasure show, preceded by dozing off embraced within your boyfriend’s loving arms.

"Look, I love you and all, but can't we watch something else?" He was so utterly unenthused you'd think you were forcing him to watch paint dry, his expressions a mirror to his tone as he combed a hand through his hair. "Something that maybe won't give me a bloody headache."

Messy chocolate curls framing brooding brown eyes, grey sweatpants and a black hoodie was all that it took to make you rethink your plans for the evening. It was clear to you, almost immediately, that Mattheo wasn’t as deterred by the craziness of the day as you were. You could see that twinkle in his eye, that hunger barred behind cheeky grins and teasing words.

You rolled your eyes, biting your lip in attempt to quell your smirk. "Oh, come on, Mattheo," you teased, shifting on the comforter to make space for him beside you. "You know deep down you love the drama. That's practically your middle name."

"If I'm being completely honest," your boyfriend scoffed, settling into bed beside you. "I'd probably enjoy it more if we turned the volume off."

Your face flushed with warmth as Mattheo immediately drew you into him, one arm slipping under your head while the other coasted a light path up your thigh. A pair of lips pressed to your neck, wet and soft against your aching skin, igniting bliss to burn a scorching heat in your belly. Against your better judgement and instigated by a force well beyond your control, you sighed--exhausted lids fluttering shut as you revelled in the warmth his presence evoked within you.

It right was then, that you knew--as instinctual as breathing--that simply watching your show and going to bed wasn’t going to be enough for your boyfriend. Of course you wanted him--wanted him just as bad as he wanted you--but your exhaustion was prevailing, and therefore, so was your brattiness.

He was going to have to be patient. He was going to have to work for it.

So with a sharp inhale, and in an honest attempt to avoid the volcano of desire before it erupted irrevocably, you turned your back to him--seeking refuge from the imminent intoxication that came along with your boyfriend's perfect lips.

"Wow, Matty," you teased, "and here I was actually considering letting you be the little spoon for once..." you fixed your sight on the TV, fighting to ignore his touch on your hip. "Guess you'll just have to be the big spoon all night."

Mattheo's chuckle rumbled against your back as he tightened his embrace, his warmth enveloping you completely. His lips brushed against your ear, and you could practically hear the exhaustion in his tone, his voice as rough as gravel.

"That's not the punishment you thought it'd be, princess," he murmured, the cheeky grin on his lips practically audible, each syllable tickling the back of your neck as he spoke. "This just gives me something far more interesting to focus on than that dumb show of yours."

You couldn't stop yourself from tsking him, a giggle escaping your lips as you gently pulled his wandering fingers away from your backside, intertwining them with your own. This was one of the many things you adored about him—the way he couldn't seem to keep his hands off you whenever you were together.

"Nuh-uh, Mattheo Riddle--your focus is on the show," your attempt to scold him was warring with the need to keep your voice steady, playfully tilting your head back slightly to meet his gaze. "I know you're just dying to find out who said what behind whose back, aren't you?”

Mattheo huffed, an exhale of pure amusement. A certain intoxicating devilism that you knew all-too-damn-well twinkled in his honeyed irises as he caught your gaze, scorching heat over your skin.

"I'm dying for something, undoubtedly," his arm beneath your head curled inward, large palm finding a handful of your breast and kneading it. Before you could react, his lips graced your earlobe, and he drew it into his mouth, nibbling it, forcing an eminent whimper to flee your throat. "And it's not that."

Involuntarily, you groaned--a noise of pure restraint--your other hand moving up to tug his fervent fingers away from your chest. It took every ounce of your willpower to hold back a sigh of desperation as you mentally reminded yourself of your prior mantra.

Make him be patient. Make him work for it.

"Matty, quit being a brat," you muttered, playful scolding tracing your tone. You honestly couldn't believe you'd just said that. "We’ve both had such a long day…let’s just watch this and goto sleep, yeah?"

His response was a low, rumbling murmur, his voice thick with desire as he turned his head toward the television, his fingers still for the moment.

"You're so right, baby," he conceded, his breath warm against your neck. "I'm just watching the show. I don't even know what you're--"

"Mattheo," you interjected, a hint of warning in your tone, and he let out an exaggerated huff, falling silent. After a moment, you giggled at him. "Salazar help you."

Even without seeing his face, you could practically hear the cheeky grin on his perfect lips spreading from ear to goddamn ear. You were certain he was seeing right through you.

"Alright, alright, I'll behave," he said, though his voice betrayed him. There wasn't one ounce of sincerity in those devastatingly deep cords. "Would you just like, stop squirming, though? It's distracting."

You rolled your eyes. Gods, how you wanted to smack him while simultaneously kissing his perfect, annoying face. "Matt, I literally haven't moved."

Mattheo shrugged, his breathy chuckle washing over your neck, his eyes now fixed on the TV. As the two of you settled into stillness, you exhaled--his playful antics never failed to humour you, a reminder of the delightful chaos that came with dating this messy, yet undeniably wonderful boy. Sometimes, it truly felt like living in your own reality TV show, though you wouldn't have it any other way.

Nestled in his embrace, a sense of tranquility washed over you as you immersed yourself in the drama that this weeks episode had to offer. However, as the clock ticked on and the show progressed, you could feel Mattheo's restlessness grow stronger behind you.

His movements were subtle at first--a shift here, a slight adjustment there, but soon enough, his hands began to wander after breaking free from your hold, tracing delicate patterns along your skin. Despite your efforts to remain focused on the show, the sensation of his touch was relentless, subtle ministrations laced with clear intent that had you distracted from the TV without much effort.

"Mattheo," you whispered, trying to sound stern but failing as a soft sigh escaped your lips.

"Shh, princess," he cooed, voice so sweet it was sugar incarnate. "We're watching the show, aren't we?"

You couldn't help but roll your eyes at his teasing, but before you could protest further, his hand moved to roam along the curve of your waist, leaving a trail of heat in its wake. Your breath caught in your throat, his touch igniting a familiar spark between you, threatening to engulf you both in a different kind of drama altogether--one that had absolutely nothing to do with the show on the television.

And you longed to utter something, anything--longed to form some semblance of coherent speech--but words would simply elude you as Mattheo's hand continued its eager exploration, mapping every inch of your curves as it started trailing its way from your hip down your thigh and back up, softly rolling his hips against your backside.

Somehow, throughout all this, you kept your eyes focused on the screen in front of you--hardly even daring to blink--though your mind was monopolized by the feeling of his calloused palm catching on the fabric of your leggings, the way his fingernails dug into your flesh as he gripped your hip, gripped your thigh, gripped your waist--anywhere his hungry hand could find purchase.

"I want you," his voice was a breath on your neck, his grip bruising your hip as he bucked into you. "So fucking bad."

You whined from lust, your vision fogged by need. His words sent heat straight to your cunt. "Matt..."

"I know, baby," his tongue drew a wet line up the side of your neck toward your ear, and he whispered into it. "Watch the show. Just let me take care of you.”

A lump formed in your throat, your mind so clouded with desire that forming a coherent response seemed impossible, your teeth clawing at your bottom lip to prevent any sounds from slipping out as his other hand moved to grope your chest, kneading your breast within his palm.

Your entire body was in flame, and the truth hung heavy in the air--of course, you wanted him just as desperately as he wanted you, and were more than willing to abandon the show and lose yourself in his touch--but it was frustrating, maddening even, how effortlessly he could disarm you, even while exhausted.

A mere whisper, a few tender touches, and you were putty in his hands, melting under his gaze. So much for making him work for it.

Mattheo hummed and bit the tender flesh between your neck and shoulder, sucking an angry, puckering red mark into it while he continued to grind against your ass, his throbbing desire jabbing you, seeking friction.

"Keep those eyes on the screen, baby." Gods, that bastard. That beautiful fucking bastard. Impossible to resist, completely useless to attempt to ignore. "Forget that I'm even here, yeah?"

A whimper escaped your lips, a tacit admission of how adeptly Mattheo had unraveled you, his touch igniting a starving fervour that coiled tight within you. He possessed an uncanny ability to unravel your defenses, leaving you malleable and pliant under his fingertips, consumed by an overwhelming need that pulsed with every beat of your heart.

"That's..." the words died on your tongue as he kissed your neck again--one hand moving to slip underneath your shirt and the other bruising your hip with his grip, pulling you closer against him. "...impossible."

"Oh, is it?" a pleased huff escaped him, his curls tickling the sensitive skin below your ear as he buried his face against it, teeth grazing your pulse. "Are you saying you can't multitask, baby? You want me to stop-"

"No," you cried out without hesitation as he finally glided up your stomach and slipped under your bra, thumb brushing against your nipple. "I...I can do both."

"Mhm, yeah you can," he purred, five slender digits slipping down to caress between your thighs, grazing over your mound and resting there for a moment, feeling your heat through your leggings. "You can do both because you're my good fucking girl, aren't you?"

His tone was intoxicating, the teasing and gentle praise melding together, creating a concoction brewed with the sole purpose of making your fucking head spin. Each word he uttered seemed to fan the flames of desire within you. Your teeth dug into your lower lip, wanting to plug as many noises as possible, his mouth moving from below your ear and slithering up to the line of your jaw.

Gathering yourself with a sharp inhale, you nodded. "Yes, Matty, I am..."

One hand shifted to your other breast and he groaned against your cheek, flooding your flesh with warmth as his fingers kneaded it, thumb twirling over the sensitive bud, erection grinding against you with another harsh snap of his hips.

"You are what, baby..." he muttered, burying his face back into the crook of your neck, his thick hair soft on your skin. "Wanna' hear you say it."

Another whimper escaped you, loud and shameless as his hand between your thighs shifted slightly, pressing against your clit for a moment before releasing pressure. You knew what he was after. You knew he wasn't going to give you what you wanted until he got it.

"I'm..." you choked on your breath, forcing the rest of the words past your teeth. "I'm your good girl, Matty."

Your arousal surged to dizzying heights, eclipsing any awareness of the television's presence in the room. Your focus had been hijacked, seized by the insatiable force of the hungry heathen at your back.

"Yeah, that's right, baby," Mattheos fingers sprung to action again, dragging the pads of his pointer and middle tantalizingly slow along your slit, teasing you through your leggings, your back arching instinctively as you fought the urge to grind against his touch. "Say it again for me."

You growled in frustration, feeling the heat blaze over your skin as his breath ghosted over your neck. Inhaling sharply, you fought to gather whatever shreds of sanity remained within you.

"Your good fucking girl, Matty," you declared, the words dripping with equal parts hunger and desperation. "All yours. Only yours."

Mattheo's response was a low, guttural growl of approval, his grip tightening possessively as he pulled you closer against him. His teeth dug into your shoulder as he finally sprung into action, hand on a hunt, tracking up to find the band of your leggings and slipping beneath it.

"That's fucking right," he murmured, his voice rough with desire. "All mine.”

Without wasting another second he slid two digits along your slit, pulling apart your slick folds and dragging the rough pads of his fingers over your clit--maddeningly slow. His grip on your breast tightened, breath leaving his lungs in shallow grunts as fervour engulfed him--engulfed you, engulfed the room and set it in flame.

"All yours." you whimpered, nodding.

"My good fucking girl, always so wet for me--so eager, hm?" Your moans filled the room as he took those two thick fingers and slid them into your cunt, the feel of your walls stretching around him igniting a quiet groan from his throat. "All day without this pussy and you really expect me to be able to keep my fucking hands off you? You're all I've been thinking about..."

Then, his thumb was on your clit while he curled his digits inside of you, stroking that sweet spot of raised flesh, your trembling hands flailing to find his arms, fingers digging into his skin, grounding you as though he was your lifeline, your anchor in the rough sea of pleasure he was providing.

"Gods, Matty." Your lids were squeezed tight, lips pinched together, rubbing your head against his as the heat from his mouth grew sweat on your neck. "You're all I--ah--all I think about too..."

Mattheo groaned again, working fast, building the pressure inside of you in record speed, warm heat rushing out over your skin. Your walls throbbed around him, heart a rabid animal barred beneath your sternum, and he added a third digit, pinching your nipple with his other hand--sending stars shooting behind your lids.

"My good girl isn't focusing on the show, is she?" His voice was the tantalizing depth of a black hole, sucking you into his orbit. You forced your eyes open. "You wanna' cum you better start focusing, princess."

Your brain was short circuiting--your mind fogged by a desire so intense it eclipsed any awareness of the television before you. Though your eyes registered its presence in the room, its glow seemed distant and hazy, as if it existed in separate realm from the searing heat encompassing you. You glimpsed it, focused on it, but your brain couldn't quite grasp its purpose as the only thing that held any significance in your consciousness was the sensation of your boyfriend's fingers, relentlessly driving you closer and closer to the edge of euphoria.

"That's better." He hummed, lips pecking at your cheek. "So good for me," his fingers scissored inside you, thumb increasing its pace on your clit. "So, so good."

Your ears rang, your sight blurring. You were so fucking close. "Matty, fuck—I'm gonna-"

Your boyfriend groaned. "Cum for me, baby."

Without needing any further instruction, the coil of pressure inside of you burst, exploding through your skin and enveloping you in a hot, convulsing warmth--you were crying out, cumming hard around him, your walls clamping down on his fingers, pulling him into your body as you pulsed and throbbed with pleasure. You thought you'd kept your eyes open, though you couldn't entirely be sure as your sight blanked, your consciousness consumed by a days worth of pent up sexual energy.

As Mattheo slowly withdrew his hand from beneath your leggings and distanced himself slightly, his voice carried a palpable strain. "Turn over, facing the TV."

Confusion flickered across your features as you blinked, glancing over your shoulder at him. "What?"

"Face the TV, on your stomach," he repeated, his voice firm yet tinged with a hint of desperation. "Please."

You watched as he palmed his throbbing, angry erection through the fabric of his grey sweats, and every single nerve ending in your body roared to life again. Still buzzing with the remnants of your climax, you quickly moved, shifting onto your stomach and facing the TV like he asked, unable to shake the boiling anticipation churning within your core.

You could feel Mattheo's dark eyes boring holes into your flesh, searing the seams of your skin as he shifted up onto his knees and moved between your legs behind you. Two strong hands gripped your thighs, and you tried to peer at him over your shoulder before he tsked you playfully.

"Focus on the screen, baby." There’s that sweet voice again. Sweet like honey oozing off his lips. “Be good.”

Your boyfriend was methodical, moving without urgency even though you knew that he was more than vibrating with it. Leaning down, he pressed soft kisses along the back of your thighs, slowly journeying upward, tracing a path to the curve of your ass cheek where he playfully sank his teeth into the plump flesh, eliciting a shudder that rippled through your body.

You suppressed a moan, the sound caught in your throat as his hands found purchase, kneading and groping the sensitive flesh between his digits.

“Matty..."

A low hum of satisfaction reverberated against your skin as he continued his exploration, his fingers deftly hooking around the band of your leggings and underwear. With a teasing tug, he began to pull them down your thighs, revealing the fresh expanse of your skin inch by tantalizing inch.

"Shh," he cooed. “Beautiful girl.”

The breath in your chest was a rapid circle, your entire body trembling with desperation. The moment your pants were off, you felt Mattheo's hands shifting to his own, a soft groan escaping him as he freed himself from the confining material. Without hesitation, he loomed over you, his presence dominating as he leaned forward to snake a hand around your throat, forcing your head in place, facing the TV as he aligned himself with your centre.

"Since you're having trouble focusing, I'll help you," his fingers wrapped around your jaw, his breath hot on your ear. "My good fuckin' girl."

A cyclone was roaring in your brain, tearing apart coherent trains of thought with primitive, physical clamoring. You felt him glide the head of his cock between your thighs, slicking himself in the wetness he'd caused, teasing you with false thrusts before he finally pushed in, spearing you open with one long, deep, slow thrust.

"Fuck." His breath was a hidden hiss through his teeth as you groaned, walls clenching around his cock. "Been waiting all day for this, baby. Fuckin’ tight little pussy."

His grip intensified on your jaw, his breath washing warm over your ear as he pulled out slowly and slammed back in. You couldn't think, couldn't speak--brain already cock-drunk, inebriated by lust.

"Matty," you gasped, gripping the wrist to the hand holding your head in place. "Fuck."

"Mhm, that's right," his voice was shattered, his tone strained against his throat. Each thrust was deeper, harder, faster than the last one, his curls tickling your cheek as he nuzzled his head in the crook of your neck--warm, wet lips pressing against your pulse. "So fucking tight. Fuck, I missed this--fuckin’ missed you."

You whimpered, struggling with every ounce of your existence to keep your eyes open, to remain focused on the glowing box infront of you--but you weren't even sure if Mattheo cared much about that anymore. Even without seeing his face you knew he was above you, looking down--teeth barred, jaw tensed and pupils blown wide with lust.

You knew he was just as gone as you were.

"Fuck," Mattheo snarled, fucking deeper, his hips smacking against your ass with every angry thrust, drowning out the sounds of the show. His hand moved under your belly, reaching for your clit and quickly connecting with it, causing you to writhe and spasm against his hold. "How's that feel, princess."

Little choked moans left you while your jaw hung slack, his cock pounding into you--then his fingers hit just the right spot, and the massive, asphyxiating pressure inside of you bordered on the very edge of exploding.

"Fuck," you replied, as though it was the only word that you seemed capable of reliably saying. "Fuck—good, Matty...so good..."

"That's right," he muttered. "You're so beautiful like this, so fucking perfect." He held you fast, pounding your cunt, catching groans in his throat. "You have no idea what you do to me."

You groaned. His words alone were enough to make your head spin. "Fuck—"

Delirium ascended into ecstasy, pleasure amplified by the stretch of his dick fucking you deep. His weight pinned you to the mattress, his hand holding your head firm as he growled in your ear with each harsh thrust, pent up sexual tension pouring off of him and threatening to drown you beneath it.

"Mhm. Little slut. Dumbed out on my cock." A low moan left you, the heat and friction and feverish thrusts sending your sanity to space. His fingers circled your clit faster, and you tweaked, eyes rolling. "Poor thing couldn't even focus on the screen if she tried, could she?"

"No—fuck, I can't." Bliss burned to burst, stars swarmed your sight entirely, and you knew it, knew it was happening, knew that you were about to break. "I—I wanna' cum for you, Matty...please..."

"Go ahead, princess." He cooed. "Cum for me."

You clamped down on his swollen length, your orgasm cleaving you in half as you shook with euphoria, heat and pleasure tearing all the way to your fingertips and toes. Mattheo keened, grip on your jaw turning almost painfully tight as he groaned and drove into you with a final thrust, cum spilling into you, hips snapping while he convulsed with the tremors of his falling climax.

The room was spinning, your bodies stuck with sweat, every breath of air too hot, too thick with sex. Your boyfriend's face was still nestled into your neck, and, exhausted too, you let your head be entirely supported by his hand, exhaling a long, trembling breath.

After a moment, Mattheo rolled off and slumped down onto the mattress beside you, grinning. “Good thing we can just rewind, hm?”

You grinned, letting out a breathy laugh as he pulled you into his chest. “You’re something else, Mr. Riddle.”

#OH MY GODS!!!#TALK ABOUT HOT!! 🥵#i love this man so fucking much #mattheo riddle

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slytherinboysappreciation · 17 hours

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Desperately Needed

Mattheo Riddle x gn!reader; smut

a/n: lil matty grinding for your monday while i work on bigger projects. 18+. enjoy ♡

Mattheo Riddle was just a childhood friend, nothing more. At least that’s what you keep telling yourself as you’re lying on your bed with him after classes one day, and he just looks so perfect you can hardly stand it.

So how did you end up straddling his lap, lips moving against his like you were seconds away from devouring each other? You have no clue.

But here you are. Pressing down against him, fingers tangled into his curls with a grip that makes him moan- and oh god you need more.

Your hips involuntarily twitch against his growing erection and his hands on your hips dig in hard. He uses that tight grip to start slowly guiding you against him, tongue slipping into your mouth, hungry. The thought that you’ll have nail marks and bruises later crosses your mind, but you can’t find it in yourself to care.

Hands find the hem of his shirt and slip under to ghost over his toned abdomen. He makes a satisfied noise against your lips at the action. You can’t stop yourself from grazing your nails against his flesh, surely causing soft pink lines to blossom in your wake.

You press down a bit firmer against him as you pull back from the kiss to trail kisses along his jawline. Mattheo’s head drops back against the headboard with a quiet thud, giving you better access to his neck. Gladly taking advantage, you kiss down his throat. You leave occasional nips to his throat; each one pulls a groan out of him, hips still gliding against each other.

You stop at his collarbone, taking a moment to suck a hickey there. He bucks up at the feeling, hands guiding you a bit firmer against him. You feel him throb in his jeans. A whimper escapes you.

That seems to spur him on as he thrusts more desperately against you and a string of expletives leave his mouth in a whisper.

A jolt of electricity shoots through you at every thrust and your head drops to his shoulder. He finds a rhythm with your hips, the friction almost too much- he whimpers. Your nails dig into his chest, feeling the rapid rise and fall of his breath.

You hear something that sounds like please, I’m close. His name comes out in a breathless moan, your voice barely wanting to work.

The heat in your core builds to an almost unbearable point as one of his hands finds your cheek, pulling you back in to a needy kiss. He twitches against you, moaning desperately and you can’t hold back anymore.

With another moan of his name, you collapse against his chest, panting.

#i love this!!!!#mattheo and grinding?#yes please!#mattheo riddle

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slytherinboysappreciation · 21 hours

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Heartbreaker - M. R. x male!Reader

A/N: It’s an angsty day today! Fic is completely unedited with no use of Y/N. Let me know if y’all want a part two 💛

CW: mentions of hooking up; miscommunication; heartbreak; unofficial breaking up? (Is it a breakup if you weren’t really together?); Mattheo being an awkward idiot; crying; talk of love; angsty thoughts

442 words

“Hey, Mattheo. Don’t look now, but your boyfriend’s headed this way.”

Theo’s words send a quiet thrill through your heart as you approach the boys. You and Mattheo aren’t officially together yet, but you’ve been hooking up for almost three months now. You have high hopes to be his boyfriend soon.

Mattheo’s next words shatter your heart, though. “He’s not my boyfriend. He’s just a hookup, guys.”

Enzo blanches. Theo winces. Mattheo goes still.

He turns around, a smile plastered across his face. “Oh. Hey.”

You give Mattheo a hurt look. “Just a hookup, huh?”

He falters for words. “Well— I— I mean, that’s what you are…”

Both Enzo and Theo grimace. You wilt like a cut flower, your puppy eyes turning downcast.

“Alright.” You mumble. “Whatever then. I’m just gonna…”

You turn away and start walking, feeling utterly dejected.

Mattheo hesitates, then follows after you. “Hey, wait. Come on, you know I didn’t mean it like that!”

You stop and turn to face him, giving him a wounded look like he’s never seen before. “What did you mean then?”

“It’s just…” Mattheo scratches the back of his neck awkwardly. “We’re not official, you know? I don’t want people getting the wrong idea.”

You go quiet and still. The wrong idea? Was he saying…

“Oh. Um, okay.” You laugh a little, your eyes stinging. “I get it.”

Mattheo frowns, a worried look crossing his face. “Hey, love…”

He only calls you love when you’re hooking up. Before it would’ve made your chest thrill with excitement. Now it just hurts.

You back away, gripping your arm in an effort to will your tears away. “It’s fine. It’s fine. Um… I gotta… I gotta go…”

Mattheo steps towards you. “Love, wait, please… You know I didn’t mean it like that…”

“You probably—“ Your voice catches in your throat. “You probably shouldn’t call me that anymore. Wouldn’t want people getting the wrong idea, you know?”

Mattheo’s face falls. He looks crushed. “But…”

You can’t hold back your tears any longer so you turn and walk away. It hurts everything in you. Shatters your heart to pieces.

Tears start to roll down your cheeks as you turn the corner and leave his sight. Only then do you let yourself quietly cry.

You’d wanted so badly for Mattheo to be your boyfriend. You’d thought he’d felt the same. Thought he’d loved you just as much as you loved him.

But oh, how wrong you were.

You weren’t special just because you were a boy, instead of his usual girls. You were just a hookup. Just a casual thing. Something insignificant.

It hurts more than you’d ever admit.

#mattheo riddle #male reader #divider by cafekitsune #mattheo riddle x male reader #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle x you

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slytherinboysappreciation · 21 hours

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list 5 things that make you happy, then put this in the ask box for the last 10 people who liked or reblogged something from you! get to know your moots or followers 🖤

My friends

My stories

Good food

Sleeping

Listening to music

#thank you so much for the ask!#ask game

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slytherinboysappreciation · 1 day

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Promised Part 16 - Tom Riddle x reader

Info: This is a rewrite of a story I've posted on my old account years ago. If it sounds familiar, that might be why :)

Summary: In this story, Tom didn't grow up as an orphan, but with his grandfather and uncle. Reader's sister got very sick and the Gaunts offer their help. But not without asking for something in return.

Warnings: Arranged marriage, physical fights, mentions of torture (brief), blood and violence, character death. Read with care!

Word count: 4k

Masterpost | Masterlist | Part 15 | Part 17

Part 16 - 30 June 1945

The N.E.W.T.s had gone by so quickly, it felt like all the preparations, all those years in Hogwarts and all the worries they had brought, had been of utmost exaggeration. Of course, they had been challenging, but what the Professors had said about them in advance, how hard and draining they would be, how nervous every student had been, made it even more curious afterwards. It had only taken a few days after all. Some days of your life, which would most likely be forgotten in a few years. Just like any other week. And all that fuss for that? Well, at least they were over.

Tom, Camille and you had passed most classes with the highest grades. Freda had gotten some outstanding grades as well and even Avery and Lestrange had qualified, if only barely. The final evening in the Great Hall was filled with a strange kind of melancholy for the students of year seven. You had done it, all of you. Seven years in Hogwarts, school of witchcraft and wizardry. It was like your first year had only gone by moments ago, you could practically still feel the sorting hat sitting on top of your head. But alas, all good things come to an end.

Final points were given to all of the houses and, to most people’s surprise, Hufflepuff won the cup. Everyone knew headmaster Dippet favoured Slytherin and Tom and Freda had surely given their own house a few extra points here and there, but Avery and Lestrange’s robbery from Slughorn had cost Slytherin too many points to recover from. All Hufflepuffs were overwhelmed with joy and Ben even ran over from the Gryffindor table to kiss Camille on the cheek while she celebrated.

Walking through the halls one last time was strange, you couldn’t fathom that you would leave the castle ultimately. It had grown to be everyone’s second home and it would always remain so in your heart. Sadly, there wasn’t a lot of time for grief, as the antidote for Mors Grano was finally ready and waited to be filled into a flask to be used the following day. Tomorrow, June 30th would be your wedding day. A day you had dreaded but still couldn’t wait for. A day that was about to change everything.

And there you were. In an old chapel north of Ramsbury, a small muggle town, where no one knew who you were. The Gaunts had chosen the place themselves and had only told your family where to go the day of, most likely to make sure you couldn’t plan to mess with them.

The chapel was dull, as was everything else there. No guests, not even a priest or a registrar to wed the two of you. Marvolo had told you that he was to do it himself. The place was so small, it wouldn’t have even fit a lot of people, but you still wished that at least Camille could have been there to witness. And so, with a heavy heart, you stood in the tiny side room, where Mother’s wedding dress waited to be put on, while Elsie, your parents and the Gaunts waited in the chapel.

“You alright?” Tom asked as he fixed his tie in front of the mirror.

You watched him as you approached the dress, your fingers brushing over the silk skirt. He looked great in his tailored black suit, white shirt and dark green tie, there was no way of denying it. Freda Morris would have been just as green with envy if she had seen him, but still, not everything was about looks.

“I’m alright,” you said and took another look at the dress. “I have to change now. Put this thing on.”

“I’ll give you some privacy in a minute.” He turned to the table in the corner where a few things had been gathered, including a box he had put there. “I brought someone.”

He pulled off the top and you peaked inside. “Nagini! Marvolo allowed for you to take her here?”

“He doesn’t know,” Tom shrugged. “And it would be better if it stayed that way.”

“I see,” you said as you reached out your hand for the snake to smell you. “Well, at least one of my friends is here.”

Tom wore an unreadable expression when he closed the box again, his lips thin as he nodded slightly. “Do you have the antidote with you?”

“Yes,” you answered and pulled it out from your pocket. The flask was the size of your palm, small and translucent. The potion inside shone through the glass like a silver and lilac gloss.

“Alright then,” he said. “Give it to your sister as soon as you can. I’ll wait outside with the others.”

When he closed the door behind himself you heard Marvolo nagging about what was taking so long, urging for you to hurry. The bastard made everything about himself again, even on your wedding day, which should have been the happiest day of your life. You pulled the dress off the hanger with force, put it on and used your wand to adjust it here and there to make it fit better. When you looked into the mirror, it felt like staring at a stranger’s reflection. The dress was beautiful, but you didn’t come close to what a happy bride should look like. Hair and makeup had been done in a hurry, nothing was as perfect as it could have been. No traditions, no extended family or friends, not even a banquet. But what had you expected? It was clear from the beginning that the wedding wouldn’t be anything like you had dreamed of since you were little. It didn’t have to be like this though. Not as marginal, not as a means to an end.

Three hard knocks on the door pulled you out of your thoughts. “Are you done yet?” Marvolo’s muffled voice called. “Hurry up!”

Desperation turned into annoyance and your eyebrows furrowed even deeper. What did he want now? “I need a minute,” you answered as you opened the door only an inch. “Elsie, Mum, can you help me with my dress?”

Marvolo mumbled a few incomprehensible words while the two walked in. To hell with him, he could wait for five more minutes before he would get what he wanted. And you should get what you wanted too. Right now.

Mother looked you up and down with a smile. “You‘re a beautiful bride, darling. What do you need help with?”

“Come,” you told them quietly and took Elsie by the hand, leading her to the other end of the tiny room, so that the Gaunts wouldn’t hear you. “I have to tell you something.”

The two looked at each other and then back at you, waiting for you to explain.

“I found something out a while back. Tom told me, he showed me. The curse that hit you, Elsie, it wasn’t sent by someone who wanted to attack Father. It wasn’t meant for Father at all.”

Elsie's eyes widened as Mother put a hand on her shoulder. “What do you mean? Why would you tell us that minutes before your wedding?” Mother asked.

“Let me explain,” you went on. “Tom showed me that it was the Gaunts who sent the curse. That’s why they found a cure so quickly. And why they didn’t heal her completely.”

Mother gasped faintly as her hand wandered up to her chest. “You mean…”

“Yes. They chose Elsie specifically so we would agree to their pact.”

“I… I can’t believe it,” Mother mumbled.

“They made me sick?” Elsie asked, her eyes as big and round as marbles. “On purpose?”

You nodded.

“But why haven’t you told us sooner?” Mother asked. “We could have-”

“I did as much as I could without attracting too much attention. Tom and I, we both assumed that the Gaunts wouldn’t even lift Elsie’s curse after the wedding. And even if they did, I wouldn’t trust them enough to let her drink anything that they would give to her again. So we brewed the antidote ourselves.”

You pulled out the flask and held it up in the air. Mother took it and examined it for a moment. “You brewed that?”

“Yes. Elsie, take it right now. You will be healed completely then and the Gaunts won’t notice anything.”

“Are you sure it’s safe?” Mother asked. “And what then? What are you going to do?”

“Yes, I’m sure it’s safe. And then,” you looked at the door to the chapel and heaved a sigh. “Then I’ll get married. Stick to the plan.”

“I hope you know what you’re doing,” Mother said as she handed Elsie the flask.

“Would you rather have her drink something that Morfin brewed up? If he would give her anything at all.”

“You’re right,” she said and shook her head.

“Quick Elsie,” you urged. “Drink up and we’ll be ready to go.”

Elsie nodded as she pulled the cork off the flask, then put her lips around the opening and took a small sip. She scrunched up her face into a grimace. “Gross.”

“Sorry, princess. They don’t make recipes for strawberry flavoured antidotes yet. Now drink it.”

Elsie exhaled sharply, then threw her head back and let the liquid pour into her mouth. One swig, two. She had it down almost completely when suddenly the door flew open.

“Excuse me, ladies, what is taking you so long?” Marvolo asked, standing in the door frame, with Morfin, Father and Tom behind him. Marvolo stared at Elsie, who was just gulping down the last drops from the flask. “What is that? What did you give her?”

The three of you froze, staring back at Marvolo and the other men. Shit.

“Just her vitamins,” you said. “To make sure she’s well for the ceremony.”

“No, no,” Marvolo huffed as he walked in. “Give me that.” He took the flask from Elsie’s hand and brought it to his nose. “Morfin, come here.”

Morfin entered the room as well, took a look at the empty flask and smelled it. Father and Tom took several steps in too, filling up the room almost completely.

“Stop,” Marvolo ordered and held his hand up to Father and Tom. “I didn’t tell you to come in.” The two halted and remained standing by the door. “Now, son. What is it?”

Morfin inspected the remaining liquid inside the flask, shaking it to see the single droplets hanging inside the vial. One side of his mouth pulled up into a ghastly smirk before he spoke through gritted teeth, “Mors Grano antidote.”

Marvolo brought his hand up to his neck, fumbling on the chain that hung there. That must have been where he carried their own flask with the unfinished antidote. It was still there, which visibly confused him. He remained calm, wouldn’t dare to show that he didn’t know how you had done it, though his eyes had turned dark.

“You little bitch,” he spat. “Morfin, take the child.”

Morfin did as he was told, quicker than any of you could have reacted and pulled Elsie to the middle of the room by the hand, then stepped behind her, one hand around her neck, his wand in his other one, pointed right at Elsie’s head.

Mother cried out when she saw what had happened to her daughter and turned to walk over to her, while Father ran towards Morfin and Elsie as well.

“Stupefy!” Marvolo called, his wand directed at Father, who fell to the ground immediately.

“How dare you, Gaunt,” Mother screamed, voice breaking, as she approached Morfin. “Let my daughter go!“

“Oh please,” Marvolo merely sighed, raising an eyebrow. With a swing of his wand Mother was knocked out as well, her body crashing to the ground with a thud. “I would have spared you, woman,” he said and shook his head. “Forced me to do it.” His eyes met yours as he used his wand again and with one swift motion, whisked your parents’ unconscious bodies to the corner of the room. “I told you not to step in. No one’s making a move now unless I tell them to.”

Silent tears ran down Elsie’s cheeks, who was still captured between Morfin’s hand and his wand. You had managed to pull out your own wand during the turmoil and looked over at Tom in the doorframe, who had done the same.

Marvolo noticed the looks you exchanged and heaved a bitter laugh. “You two, eh? Partners in crime? And what do you think you’re doing there, girl? With your wand out. Do you really think you can defeat me with your schoolbook magic?”

You gripped your wand tighter to prevent your hand from shaking, swallowed down thickly and frowned. There were a million things you wanted to say, thousands of curse words you could have called him, but Morfin still had Elsie between his fingers. “Don’t you underestimate me, Marvolo.”

He clicked his tongue, let his head fall back and laughed wholeheartedly. “Oh, juveniles. Graduated a day ago and think they’ll conquer the world. Well, I got some bad news for you then. But first, you’re going to tell me how you’ve found out about Mors Grano. And how you got a hold of an antidote that isn’t ours.”

You didn’t answer and only looked at Elsie, who breathed rapidly, her hands holding on to Morfin’s grip around her neck.

“I see,” Marvolo sighed and turned his head towards the door. “Tom, would you give us the honour then? Come, stand next to your bride.”

Tom walked over silently and placed himself next to you, his hand gripping yours.

“Oh look at that,” Marvolo feigned. “Tragically in love. Now, Tom, explain.”

Tom didn’t answer, only held your hand a bit tighter and you could feel something cold inside of it, something metallic, perhaps.

“No?” Marvolo asked. “You don’t want to tell us? Well, then we’ll have to motivate you. Morfin, go ahead.”

Morfin grinned but didn’t point his wand at Elsie anymore. Instead, he pointed it right at you. “Crucio!”

The pain that rushed through you was unbearable from the moment it had started. Falling to your knees, you opened your mouth to scream but couldn’t hear the sounds that escaped you over the static ringing in your ears. A million knives must have pierced your body at once, and they scraped off your skin with rusty blades inch by inch, while your head hammered and stung as if a lightning bolt had struck right into it. Your vision had left you from the pain, everything around you had gone white and you only heard scraps of conversation between the all-consuming buzz that rumbled between your ears. Tom was begging them to stop, you assumed, but couldn’t concentrate on his words, as the pain threatened to crack your skull.

Then, as quickly as it had started, it ended. You opened your eyes slowly, blinked a couple of times when your perception came back and felt a small hand on your cheek. Elsie kneeled above you, next to Tom.

“What happened?” you asked, your voice hoarse, while you sat up groggily.

Marvolo was still standing in his spot, looking down at Morfin, who lay on the ground, holding his leg with both hands. And attached to his thigh, was Nagini, pressing her fangs into him through his trousers.

“Nagini,” you whispered and as soon as you had said her name, the snake let go of Morfin and retracted.

“She crawled out of her box when he hit you with the curse,” Tom said quietly. “And bit him before they could have noticed.”

Tom helped to get you on your feet again and even though your legs were still shaky from the Cruciatus Curse, you stood in front of Elsie, to shield her from the Gaunts.

Morfin winced in pain and held his leg. Nagini’s venom spread quickly, Morfin’s thigh was twitching on its own. “Father,” he whined. “I need treatment. Help me get home.”

Marvolo looked down at his son, lips parted with an expression of sheer revulsion on his face. “Do you think I have time to take care of your little injuries right now? Suck it up.”

“But… But Father, I can’t feel my leg anymore,” Morfin panted. “I might die when the venom reaches my heart.”

Marvolo sighed and bumped his foot against Morfin’s leg, to which his son screamed. “Then leave.”

Morfin nodded, it must have taken all of his remaining strength not to pass out, and closed his eyes before he apparated, leaving only a few drops of blood on the floor behind.

“Now back to you,” Marvolo said and looked at Tom as if nothing more than a minor inconvenience had just occurred. “Don’t you dare lie to me. You know I can kill everyone in this room within a second.”

Tom still didn’t answer and placed himself in front of Elsie and you, which made Marvolo laugh again.

“Oh, boy. You’d sacrifice yourself? For this family and not your own? I know I’ve raised you differently. You’re a disgrace.”

“You want me to tell you everything?” Tom asked. “Then let me come closer, so I can share all of my secrets.”

Marvolo remained unimpressed at the thought - there was no spell he couldn’t counter. So he rolled his eyes and shrugged. “Come as close as you want, son. But keep your wand up, where I can see it.”

And so Tom went. One step, two, three, four, until he was face to face with his Grandfather. Marvolo still eyed Tom’s wand, gripping his own tightly. And then, Tom moved his other hand abruptly, jerking it toward Marvolo’s abdomen once. You couldn’t see from where you stood and only noticed when Marvolo looked down himself and opened his mouth.

“Imperio,” Tom said quietly while Marvolo collapsed.

Now that you could see what he had done, you put your hands over Elsie’s eyes, holding them closed. Marvolo was bleeding from his stomach and Tom held a bloody knife in his wandless hand.

“I’m just making sure you can’t apparate,” Tom said. “Like uncle did. The coward. I want to see how you die.”

Marvolo looked up at Tom, opened his mouth but didn’t say anything, tears edging on the corners of his eyes.

“No. You don’t get to talk now,” Tom went on. “Never again. You’re going to listen. And I’m even going to tell you what you wanted to hear. I found a way to tell her what you have done to Elsie. I stole Morfin’s book, and we brewed the antidote ourselves. Oh yes, before I forget, we also stole some Banshee tears from Morfin, while you were out. Scrook and Hokey were very helpful. I even learned some new things this year. Some of them from a muggle-born, can you believe? It got me thinking, you purebloods are so concentrated on magic, you wouldn’t even realise when I’d come up to you with a knife in my hand. And I was right. You didn’t. You called me a bastard so often and reminded me that my Father was a muggle. So I thought I’d remind you myself how much of a half-blood I am. Isn’t it awful dying the muggle way? So slowly, so weak.”

Marvolo laid to the side, impacted by the Imperius Curse and opened his mouth, coughing up blood, his eyes half-closed.

“And now, here we are,” Tom whispered. “You did this all to yourself. Good night, Grandfather.”

It took a while until you all had collected yourselves. Mother and Father had woken up some minutes after Marvolo had closed his eyes completely and you had brought Elsie into the chapel, so she wouldn’t have to see the body. Tom, your parents and you hadn’t decided yet what to do with Marvolo. You had thought about leaving him there, or to apparate him to Gaunt manor, where the elves would take care of it.

Mother joined Elsie and you in the chapel, so you took the chance to get some fresh air outside. Only out in the open did you notice that you were still wearing the white dress, now spotted with deep red stains. What scorn of fate it was to watch someone die by your groom’s hand on your wedding day. The door behind you opened again when Tom walked out. He had managed to remain composed better than the rest of you, despite what he had done.

He walked up to you, looking at the ground and only lifted his head when he stood right in front of you. A warm breeze brushed over your skin as the sun was setting. “Are you okay?” he asked.

You nodded. Physically, at least. “I think I am.”

Tom dipped his head once too and loosened his tie. “Are you scared of me after what you’ve seen?”

You looked him in the eyes, tilting your head slightly. His pupils were extended, brows sitting calmly above. “No,” you answered. “I would have done the same if I had to.”

He bit his lip and nodded, hands inside his pockets before he took them out, held you by your waist and kissed you. All the tension and stress seemed to leave your body for a moment, your shoulders finally relaxing and you wished you could hold on to him like this for hours. Tom stayed close for a moment, pressed his forehead against yours and sighed. “So,” he said as he took a step back. “The pact is done with. Elsie is cured. You don’t have to marry me anymore.”

A surprised gasp fell from your lips. You hadn’t even thought about that yet. He was right. “I guess I don’t.”

Tom pushed the tip of his shoe through the gravel, drawing patterns. “But I wanted to know,” he said. “Would you have gone through with it if this had turned out differently? Would you have married me and stayed?”

There was a moment of silence when you thought about it. What answer could anyone give to such a question? You liked him, yes, you would even dare to say you were in love with him. But would you have really married him this quickly if you could have decided yourself?

“Would you?” you asked, to which he smirked. The wind tousled his hair, just like when you had sat with him at the bench back in the Hogwarts’ courtyard. You pulled the engagement ring Marvolo had sent off your finger and handed it to him. “Why don’t you ask me? Properly, I mean.”

Tom’s smirk vanished. He took your hand in his, holding the ring as he inspected you. He opened his mouth but shut it again to clear his throat. Then he asked, “Do you want to marry me?”

A smile formed on your face, one that he didn’t mirror, as long as you wouldn’t answer him. “No,” you said, closing his palm.

Tom’s expression didn’t change, but when you looked closely, you noticed that the size of his pupils had decreased, his brows now hanging in confusion. He still held onto your hand but you could feel him trembling.

“Not yet,” you added, your smile still in place. “Not like this and certainly not today. Not on Marvolo’s terms. Not without my friends and not before we really get to know each other and both decide, on our own, that we want to do it.” You leaned forward, kissed him once and said, “So, ask me again in a year or two?”

And then, the rarest sight of them all, Tom Riddle smiling genuinely, was given to you. He looked so handsome wearing it and with the orange light from the setting sun on his face when he pulled you in.

“I promise I will.”

Masterpost | Masterlist | Part 17

Tags: @ariachaos @daardyrnitta

#AAAAHHHH!!#MY HEART!!!!#HOW DO YOU MANAGE TO DO THIS EVERY TIME?!?!#THIS CHAPTER WAS PURE PERFECTION!!!#had me on the edge of my seat while reading #ugh i love this series so much!!!#tom riddle

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slytherinboysappreciation · 1 day

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Serendipitous Encounters

pairing - blaise zabini x luna lovegood

a/n - bluna is slowly taking over my mind

warnings - fluff, luna is draco's cousin

wordcount - 1.1k

Blaise stood in the courtyard, head thrown back and his eyes closed as he tried to enjoy the warm rays of the sun in hopes of finding even a hint of relaxation. The weight of his frustrations pressed down on him like a heavy cloak. He leaned against a weathered stone pillar, his brow furrowed in deep concentration as he tried to make sense of the mountain of schoolwork that seemed to grow taller with each passing day.

His mind was a whirlwind of thoughts and calculations, tangled in the complexities of magical theory and ancient incantations. Every task seemed to demand more of his time and energy, leaving him feeling drained and overwhelmed. And his friends had been no help either, each of them being more of a pain in the ass as the other.

Lost in his own world of worries, he didn't notice Luna's quiet approach until she was standing right in front of him, her presence like a gentle breeze that cut through the suffocating haze of his thoughts.

"Hello, Blaise," Luna greeted him with a serene smile, her voice a soothing melody. "What brings you out here all by yourself on such a busy day?"

Blaise blinked, momentarily startled by her sudden appearance and the calmness that seemed to radiate from her. Luna was an enigma, a puzzle wrapped in layers of mystery, and he couldn't help but be intrigued by her serene demeanor.

The two of them had never had an actual conversation. He had only met her through Draco, who despite refusing to admit it, had a soft spot for his younger cousin.

"Just trying to take a break from schoolwork," Blaise replied tersely, his frustration evident in his voice. "It's... a lot."

Luna nodded understandingly, her silvery eyes filled with empathy. "I know what you mean. Sometimes, it feels like there's never enough time to do everything we need to."

There was a depth to Luna's words that resonated with him, a sense of understanding that eased the tension in his shoulders ever so slightly.

"You know," she began, her voice gentle yet filled with a hint of mischief, "sometimes, when the world feels like it's closing in on me, I like to imagine that I'm flying on the back of a hippogriff, soaring high above the clouds where all my worries seem so small."

Blaise couldn't help but chuckle at Luna's whimsical suggestion, the corners of his lips turning up in a faint smile. Her perspective was so different from his own, so refreshingly unique.

"That sounds... nice," he admitted.

Luna smiled knowingly, her eyes sparkling with understanding. "Why don't we take a break from the chaos of school for a little while? I know a quiet spot in the Forbidden Forest where the Thestrals like to gather. It's a peaceful place, far away from the noise and stress of the castle."

Blaise hesitated for a moment, his mind flashing with warnings of all the assignments he should be working on instead. But then he looked into Luna's eyes, filled with an undeniable sense of adventure and curiosity, and he felt something stir within him.

"Alright," he said finally, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Lead the way."

As Luna took his hand and led him towards the edge of the courtyard, Blaise felt a sense of anticipation building within him. They walked in comfortable silence, the sound of their footsteps echoing beneath their feet.

As they entered the shadowy embrace of the Forbidden Forest, Blaise couldn't help but feel a shiver of apprehension run down his spine. The forest was dense and foreboding, its ancient trees whispering secrets that sent a chill through the air. But Luna seemed unfazed by the eerie atmosphere, her steps steady and sure as she guided him deeper into the heart of the forest.

"Here we are," Luna said, coming to a stop in a small clearing bathed in dappled sunlight. A group of Thestrals grazed peacefully nearby, their dark forms blending seamlessly with the shadows.

Blaise watched in awe as she approached the creatures, her movements graceful and fluid. She spoke to them in hushed tones, her words a soothing melody that seemed to calm the restless spirits of the forest.

"Come," Luna called to him, her hand outstretched in invitation. "They won't bite, I promise."

Taking a deep breath, Blaise stepped forward, his heart pounding in his chest. He had always been fascinated by Thestrals, their mysterious presence stirring something primal within him. He stood among the Thestrals, feeling a mixture of awe and trepidation swirling within him. Luna moved gracefully beside him, her eyes alight with a childlike wonder that was infectious.

"Did you know," Luna smiled up at him, her voice carrying a whimsical lilt, "Thestrals are often misunderstood creatures. People fear them because they can only be seen by those who have witnessed death, but really, they're quite gentle."

Blaise nodded, listening intently to her words as he observed the creatures with newfound curiosity. "You seem to know a lot about magical creatures."

"Oh, I've always had a knack for understanding the misunderstood," she replied cryptically, her gaze drifting towards the canopy of trees overhead. "They say the Thestrals can guide you to hidden places within the forest, places where magic is at its strongest."

Blaise found himself captivated by her, a newfound sense of wonder stirring within him. "Hidden places?" he echoed, his curiosity piqued. "What kind of places?"

Luna's smile widened, her eyes gleaming with excitement. "Oh, all sorts of places," she replied, her voice tinged with a sense of mystery. "Places where the trees whisper secrets of the past, and the earth hums with ancient magic. It's like stepping into a different world entirely."

Blaise couldn't help but be drawn in by her descriptions, her words painting vivid images in his mind. For a moment, he forgot about the mountain of schoolwork waiting for him back at the castle, lost in the enchanting tales the beautiful girl in front of him spun.

"Sounds incredible," he murmured, his gaze lingering on her face.

"It is," Luna agreed, her eyes sparkling with an inner light. "But the real magic lies in the journey itself, in the moments of discovery and wonder along the way."

As they stood among the Thestrals, surrounded by the tranquil beauty of the forest, a sense of peace wash over him. For the first time in what felt like ages, he allowed himself to simply be in the moment, to embrace the magic that surrounded him.

And as he glanced at Luna, her face illuminated by the soft glow of the forest, he realized that sometimes, the most unexpected encounters could lead to the most extraordinary adventures.

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#OH MY GODS THIS IS SO CUTE!!!!#I LOVE BLUNA SO MUCH!!!#I LOVE THIS!!!#blaise zabini #luna lovegood

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slytherinboysappreciation · 1 day

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Chapter 11: Blaise and The Distractor

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The rest of their break flew by, so much so that Blaise began to create study materials for exams.

“While I respect your dedication to school… be serious. It's the last day of the break, shouldn't we be relaxing?” Isabella practically begged, trying to drag him away from his work. Blaise simply rolled his eyes. Isabella was not excited to go back to Hogwarts. At all. In protest for their unavoidable return, she had begun to be incredibly lazy. Still respectful and sickeningly polite to his mother; but behind closed doors she was becoming down right insufferable. Throwing herself on his bed or carpet (she had silently decided for the both of them that they'd spend their time in his room) and doing everything she could to try and convince him to join her in her lounging. “Everything” extended from poking and whining to throwing little spheres of her Glow at him which on impact would burst into sparkles that would fade out.

“You know, Reyes, not all of us have special magic that makes everything easy for us.” Blaise replied without thinking, wincing at his own tone. He wasn’t jealous - he could see that her Glow stressed her out just as much as it fascinated her- but it was hard sometimes to not feel… offended sometimes at how simply magic came to her. If you would have asked him before break what kind of witch Reyes was, he would say that in academics she was smart but not brilliant, she was better than most but not enough to compete with him, Hermione and Draco for the top three spots.

That was so damn inaccurate.

He realized this News Years Eve when he first saw her Glow.

He knew realistically that the Glow was something that worried her. In the nights since New Years, in the dark his room, she would share stories of the fears that plagued her her whole life , because of her Glow. He knew that in reality, that as amazing as her Glow was, he wouldn’t want to be in her position, that he couldn’t live with the fear like she did.

But it was just so beautiful. The way she and everything around her would levitate. The way light and magic swirled around her as if she were the center of her own universe. The way that when you looked closely at her while she used her glow - ignoring the light show- you could see the Glow form patterns on her skin, more visible depending on the strength that she used.

It was so easy. She transfigured the whole training room. Levitated tons of furniture. Created creatures that seemed to be alive and conscious. She was stellar.

And she had been holding back the whole time.

To avoid suspicion she held back in class allowing for other students to be successful so as to not draw attention. Through questioning her - interrogating her- he learned that the glow wasn’t just limited to charms and transfiguration, but also herbology and potions. She once let her Glow weave into the soil of a basic vine plant (he asked for elaboration but was met with a shrug and a “I don’t know the name of plants, I leave that stuff to Neville.”) and it grew, covering the walls of her room, practically instantly. And whenever she made a mistake in potions a quick tap of her finger to her caldron would change the potion into the one she needed- and it would work. And that was just what she knew she was capable of, as of now.

She broke the laws of magic by just existing and he was…offended.

Quietly offended.

Very different from jealousy.

“Instead of having “special magic”, you are you. You are top in the classes, you ace all of your essays and you spend all your time in the library. Not reading for fun, that I could understand, but purely for research.” Isabella shivered as if she just said something unthinkable.

And that is why he couldn’t be jealous.

Reyes was too… humble when it came to her magic. She had her moments of fascination but her muggle life clearly forced her into being modest about the Glow. She genuinely believes that her Glow is not nearly as useful or important as his ability to list dates of Goblin wars. Instead of expressing this he settled on shaking his head and ending the conversation, “Go to sleep Reyes.”

“Go to sleep Reyes.” she mocked, slipping off his bed and out the door calling out a goodnight.

Blaise worked for a few more hours before falling into bed and into a restless sleep.

Unlike in September, the journey to the platform was surprisingly easy. Everyone was prompt and he found himself not stalling anywhere nearly as much as he did just months ago. Before he knew it he was back on the train, sitting across from Theo, trying to block out Malfoys rant about Merlin knows what. It all felt so dull after spending so much time with Isabella. With Isabella conversations were long but not in a way that made them feel dragged out. Talking to Isabella was like breathing air, so natural and instinctive you would have thought they had known each other forever. Blaise was not the kind of person to laugh and have meaningful conversations with someone he didn’t now for years. But being with Isabella, made Malfoys influence even more apparent; it was always clear that Malfoy had power over the other Slytherins. Of course he did. His father was a prominent figure on the board of the school and Wizengamot, and more importantly his mother hailed from the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black. Blaise’s mother always did her best to maintain a balance between teaching him about politics and avoiding him becoming absorbed in politics. His teachings changed with his age, so that by the time he would have to join Wizengamot (years and years in the future) he would be prepared. He knew many things now, including but not limited to, who the Noble and Most Ancient Houses were and what family’s back those houses. The House of Black had “fallen”...technically. That's what most people believe. Blaise’s mother, though, told him many years ago, just before he attended his first “formal event”, that a House only falls when all of its members are dead. So long as even one person is alive from that House, it lives on. Therefore, the House of Black is more than alive and that he should watch his mouth because no matter how far a Noble and Ancient House has fallen their influence will never fully diminish.

And yet as he sits and watches the youngest descendant of the House of Black (at least the most important youngest descendant) preach to his “friends” he can't help but wish to ignore his mothers advice. He always knew that Malfoy abused his status; but after spending so much time around Isabella who - if she really wanted to - could dominate the entire wizarding world (politics, business, social life, magic hierarchy, everything) but actively chooses not to, Blaise just fights the urge to keep his face straight as he watches Malfoy minimize those around him.

But this doesn’t just extend to Malfoy, Blaise ponders as he makes his way to the Slytherin common room. He takes in how blatant the food-chain is as Slytherin friend groups section themselves off into those who ally themselves to one House or another. One day the world is going to learn about Isabella. And either every single person here is going to try and get in her good graces once they see how powerful she is…or they’re going to try and get rid of her. Blaise thinks as he changes into his pajamas, continuing to tune out Malfoy ( he hasn’t shut up this whole time). Either way, I’m going to stand beside her.

Authors notes: ...i genuinely believed I was going to be able to write pretty frequently...and then my classes whopped my ass. I'm going to try and keep time between posts short but i can only try. because life is unfortunatley lifeing. thanks for reading

#I LOVE THIS SO MUCH OH MY GODS!!!!#BLAISE BEING SO CONCERNED FOR ISABELLA HAD MY HEART ACHING FOR HIM!!!#Oh I hope everything turns out alright with them #blaise zabini

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slytherinboysappreciation · 2 days

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Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love 💗

Oooh! Thank you so much for this!

Adoration - T. R. x fem!Reader

This was the first smut I ever wrote and the story that really started to gather followers. It’s still my favorite so far. Just the sheer angst of it all was cathartic to write

Bullied - Prof. T. R. x platonic gn!Reader

Ugh, I love this story! It practically wrote itself; I was so obsessed with the story idea. I love protective Tom almost as much as I love feral Tom

Stargazing - B. Z. x male!Reader

I love Blaise so much. Writing this had me falling in love with him even more

Just Cuddling - T. N x male!Reader

It’s Theodore Nott and teasing with the other boys. Honestly, my favorite fic for banter

Crush - L. B. x male!Reader

This fic still gives me butterflies to read! Just Enzo’s cuteness and how in love with the reader he is

#thank you so much for the ask!#this actually really helped remind me about all the things i love about my stories #slytherinboysappreciation loves pizzaapeteer #ask game #fic recs

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slytherinboysappreciation · 2 days

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Hi hi hi love!

For the "These Are Sure Some Asks" can you answer 12, 17, and 21?

Flowers in return <3

Thank you so much for the ask! Here’s some flowers for you too

12. Something you want to monologue about?

Rn it’s the similarities between Cedric Diggory and Lorenzo Berkshire. This post got me thinking, and I’ve been trying my hardest to put my thoughts down cohesively to write a fic or some headcanons for them

17. Space, enchanted forest, magical kingdom, or underwater city?

Enchanted forest all the way. I love the idea of a magical kingdom, but I am a nature lover at heart. I would have the time of my life in an enchanted forest

21. How do you take your pizza?

If I have to choose from the standard options, plain pepperoni or supreme. I’m not a huge pizza fan, honestly

#thank you so much for the ask!#slytherinboysappreciation loves obsessedwithceleste

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slytherinboysappreciation · 2 days

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Damnnn the pfp and blog design through me off 🤭🫢 love it though!!! ✨

Haha it still gets me sometimes too lol. I’m glad you like it though! 😁

#felt i needed a change from a calmer cedric to a more chaotic mattheo #i’m really glad you like it!!#slytherinboysappreciation loves pizzaapeteer

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slytherinboysappreciation · 2 days

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Hi love! I know you’re taking a lil break, but just wanted to send some love your way🩷🩷 hope you’re doing well and taking care of yourself🫶🏽

This is me giving you a virtual hug rn 💛

#thank you so much for this #i genuinely needed it #🥹💛#i can happily report that i am now doing well!!#slytherinboysappreciation loves obsessedwithceleste

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slytherinboysappreciation · 2 days

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Hey, y’all! I’m back!

I have officially returned to tumblr after my brief break away!

Thank you so much to all those who supported me while I was gone! Your love and support mean the world to me 💛

#seriously thank you to those who supported me #it literally made the decision between me coming back or not #i love you all 🥰

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slytherinboysappreciation · 9 days

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Hey, y’all. I’m gonna be deleting tumblr off my phone and probably not accessing it for a couple of days.

Things keep happening that are making me very uncomfortable and are affecting my mental health. It’s mostly just a personal thing, so I’m gonna take some time to work on it.

I’m not gonna be off for very long, hopefully, as I truly do love writing and sharing my stories with y’all. I just need to take a break for a little while so I stay safe.

I love and appreciate you all and am so grateful for the support and love I’ve gotten on my stories.

Thanks 💛

#this really is mostly just a personal thing #i just need to get some issues under control before i can continue being on here #i also might be making some major theme changes to my blog when i get back #i’ll still be a harry potter blog but i have some themes and boundaries i want to add #love you all so much

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slytherinboysappreciation · 9 days

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Promised Part 15 - Tom Riddle x reader

Info: This is a rewrite of a story I've posted on my old account years ago. If it sounds familiar, that might be why :)

Warnings: Arranged marriage

Word count: 1.8k

Masterpost | Masterlist | Part 14 | Part 16

Part 15 - A Dagger for a Devotee

Now that all the ingredients for the antidote were gathered and added, the potion was as good as finished. It just had to simmer on for a while. If the instructions were correct, it would be finished on June 29th, the last day of school. Graduation day. One day before the wedding.

The wedding. Tom thought about it a lot. It would happen. That, he knew. The plan was to give Elsie the antidote on their wedding day so that she would be completely healed and they could still keep a low profile towards Marvolo and Morfin. Their wish would be fulfilled then, and even if the Gaunts were going to ask for more, they wouldn’t know that Elsie wasn’t under their might anymore. Tom was sure they were going to try to pressure him by threatening to hurt Elsie someday, even when he was married. That was just in their nature. They would never be satisfied.

He wondered how long it would take them to figure out that she had been healed. Weeks, months, years? And how they would react then. Were they going to take out their anger on him? The more he thought about it, the less he cared. He had even fantasised about it if he was honest. That Marvolo would lose his temper and would attack him. Tom had waited so long enough for an excuse to pay his Grandfather back, his fingers were itching just thinking about it. Oh, the things he would like to do to him were unspeakable and the grin on his face only widened the longer he envisioned them. He would welcome the opportunity with open arms.

Some nights, when he lay awake and couldn’t just fall asleep yet, Tom wondered if his life would have been different, if he had turned out to be another person, had he not been brought up by the Gaunts. He didn’t wish for it, like his fiancée had mentioned so often, no, but he still couldn’t help but wonder. Was there a possibility for a different Tom Riddle to exist? One that would live with parents, one that wasn’t as cold and narrow-minded, one that could crack a real good joke to his friends? A funny, warm, kind version of him? His stomach squirmed at the thought. Disgusting.

He could have turned out like Benjamin Hilt. Merlin’s sake, what a nightmare that would be. To act like him, so loud and bothersome. Head in the clouds, mouth always open and never thinking about any consequences. Hilt had it so easy. But nevertheless, Ben’s attitude was intriguing. Annoying yes, but intriguing. Tom wouldn’t have thought Hilt would be able to keep his muggleborn mouth shut and keep the pact a secret, but he hadn’t told anyone about it yet. And he didn’t seem to keep his word out of fear, but rather out of belief. Ben wasn’t the type to have deep thoughts, by the looks of it at least, but he had his priorities set. And for that Tom respected him. Everything Ben did seemed to come so easily from within, not wasting one too many thoughts. It was something so deeply ingrained that it must have come naturally.

He was so different compared to Tom’s friends. Or whatever word one would use for people like Avery, Lestrange and the others. They were nothing more than followers, blind and mindless. They wouldn’t just offer their help to be a good person. They always wanted something in return, even if it was just Tom’s recognition. And he knew, if someone else were to take his place, they would drop him in an instant. Their loyalty was superficial and egoistic. Just as his own. He would drop them too if someone more useful were to show up and solicit themselves.

That was how it always had been. How he had thought friendships were meant to be. A mutual agreement, quite similar to business. Be polite, make use of a person as much as you can, make sure they’re intimidated enough to keep their knowledge to themselves and wish them well on their way out. Simple, beneficial and most importantly efficient.

But what his fiancée, Ben and Camille had was so different. He had waited for Camille and Ben to ask for something in return. Weeks had gone by, where he had anticipated for them to come up and ask for a favour. A note from the head boy to get out of detention, a favour by putting in a good word with a teacher. But they hadn’t. They had helped to steal the Banshee tears and were still tending to the potion in the Come and Go Room every day. For nothing? He couldn’t fathom it at first, and only when he thought about it again, it came to his mind that this could be what real friendship was like.

He didn’t like how much it churned him, how much consideration it had taken to come to this conclusion, when apparently for other people, that was the most natural thing in the world.

Tom obtained a much greater deal of wit than Ben, without a doubt, but yet, Hilt possessed so much more emotional intelligence than Tom could ever dream of. And he was jealous of him. That Ben could just walk through life, listen to his gut and trust that whatever it would tell him would be with good intent. Tom could have made real friends too then. He could have developed that trust to his gut, if he hadn’t been fed those vicious thoughts by the Gaunts his whole life. He could have even gotten to know a muggle for all he knew, if he hadn’t been told, day after day, how worthless and irrelevant they were. That’s what they had always said. But the Gaunts had lied so often, maybe they had lied about that too. He had believed them for so long that he couldn’t even tell which opinion was his own and which one had been planted in his head by someone else.

And then came three people who acted against all his values, showing him a glimpse of what life could be like. Everything he knew, his view of the world, as well as his belief, had collapsed in a matter of months. He had learned so many new things, he wasn’t even sure if he knew himself anymore.

Had he changed? He must have, somehow at least. It was ironic, how the Gaunts’ plan to marry him off to a pureblood witch, who they thought would bring their family safety and respect, turned out to result in the complete opposite. Nothing, not even Marvolo’s paranoia and obsession for being a step ahead had come of use. They all had turned against them in the end, and for what? The faint idea of power and reputation? What worth did those things even have when everyone who bowed down to you only did so out of fear? They would take the first chance they got to stab you in the back with the very dagger you had given them. If you can’t trust your devotees, why bother?

Trust was something he thought of a lot, too. Did someone truly trust him? His fiancée for instance. She had put her faith in his hands several times in the past, yes. But would she trust him with her life? Had he done enough to earn her deepest trust yet? Or would she let him fall too when the opportunity arrived? When the deal was sealed, her sister was free and the Gaunts were powerless. Would she leave him, or would she stay? It kept him up at night when he thought about being alone again. Not because he depended on someone to be there, he was fine on his own. But he couldn’t change the fact that he wanted her to stay. And only her. No one else would do.

No one else had ever awoken that part of him before. That part that wasn’t as selfish, as calculating and cautious. And he knew no one else could. There was something about her, that slight brush of a hand when she touched him, or that unintentional notion of a smile she wore so often that broke out a whirlwind of emotion inside of him again and again. And he still didn’t even know what it was that he felt. It was nerve-racking, this mixture of nervousness, excitement and joy. If he had been able to, he would have buried those feelings long ago, deep down somewhere where they could have never disturbed him again. But he hadn’t. And he was glad about that. No matter how irritating it was, he craved it now.

He craved to see her as often as possible, the sound of her voice, the touch of her fingers on him. Her mind, her body and everything in between had him longing, thirsting for even more proximity. He ached for that bond so much, it had become a hassle and he needed to suppress it to prevent himself from shying her away.

But it was hard to feign composure when all he wanted was right there before him and she was so willing to accept his bid. It took all his might not to do what he most wanted and lock her up in a golden cage, where she would remain for him alone. His secret, his very own jewel. But most importantly his.

He couldn’t do that to her, he knew, she wouldn’t allow it. And he wouldn’t dare. He would never dare to add imbalance to the fragile structure they had built over the last year. She had come back to him eventually, day by day. He just needed to remind himself of that. Wait and improve his patience. Trust that she desired him as much as he did her. And by all accounts, she must have. Why else would she treat him the way she did? The idealist in him feasted on the way she acted towards him. How fearless and comfortable she was. How her mood could swing from gentle to feisty in a second, never dreading his reaction. Her honesty, which was the easiest, as well as the hardest thing to give someone, was what he most cherished her for.

Never before had he experienced something so close to perfection. The purity of emotion, so vibrant and raw it nearly hurt. But its absence was even worse, like a bottomless hole that sucked him in and ate him up from the inside. He had become addicted to the feeling and he would do anything to keep it.

He would marry her, yes, and willingly so. He would do anything she asked from him. But if she was to leave him then, if she would take that dagger and push it into his heart, he knew it would destroy him.

Masterpost | Masterlist | Part 16

Tags: @ariachaos @daardyrnitta

#tom’s thoughts!!!#you’re gonna make me cry!! 😭#this was so touching to read!!!#i love this whole story with all my heart #but something about the tom chapters just stabs me through the heart!!#i love how you write him so much!#tom riddle

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