Summary: When Mattheo Riddle overhears Slytherins plotting against you, he makes a dangerous choice. In exchange for his protection, he demands your companionship, a pact that begins as a strategy but deepens into something neither of you could have predicted.
The whispers followed you through the Slytherin common room, sharp and cutting as the flick of a blade.
You had long grown used to them, but lately the glances had become colder, the laughter more purposeful. That night, as you passed by the alcove near the stairwell, you caught your name in a hushed conversation.
“Tomorrow. By the courtyard. She will not see it coming.”
Your chest tightened, but you forced yourself not to look back.
What you did not notice was Mattheo Riddle, leaning lazily against the wall in the shadows, his sharp eyes catching every word. His jaw tightened, though his expression remained unreadable.
The next day, he appeared beside you in the corridor as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
“You are far too trusting,” he drawled, his tone filled with mockery. “Do you always wander into traps with your eyes wide open?”
You frowned, clutching your books tighter.
“What are you talking about?”
He leaned closer, his voice lowering to a whisper.
“A handful of snakes with nothing better to do than plot your humiliation. You do not actually believe they were whispering about anyone else, do you?”
“How do you know?”
Mattheo smirked, though his eyes flickered with something sharper. “Because I heard them. And because, unlike you, I actually pay attention.”
You narrowed your eyes. “So what, you decided to play hero?”
“Hardly,” he said smoothly. “Let us call it an investment. I am offering you protection, but I expect something in return.”
You scoffed. “Of course you do. What is it then, Riddle? My soul? Eternal servitude?”
His lips curved, the faintest trace of amusement softening his features. “Companionship. Nothing more, nothing less. Stay by my side, and they will not dare touch you. You get safety, I get… well, someone who does not bore me senseless.”
Your brow furrowed. “You want me to play at being your friend?”
“Not play,” he replied, tilting his head. “Be.”
Against your better judgment, you agreed.
Not like you had any other options. It was either him or public humiliation... again.
And true to his word, the whispers quietened. Where you went, Mattheo lingered.
At meals, his chair scraped closer.
In lessons, he stole your ink or passed you notes filled with dry commentary about the professors. At first, you bristled at the intrusion, but soon you caught yourself stifling laughter at his remarks, your irritation softening.
One evening in the library, you spoke up, “You are impossible, you know that?”
He smirked, lounging back in his chair. “And yet, here you are. Sitting with me instead of leaving.”
You rolled your eyes, but your smile betrayed you. “Because you will not leave me alone.”
His gaze lingered a moment longer than usual. “Maybe. Or maybe you do not want me to.”
Your heart skipped before you ducked your head, pretending to return to your book.
It was weeks later when the mask cracked.
You had stumbled upon him in the courtyard at night, sitting alone, a cigarette between his fingers. His expression was unreadable, far from the smirk he wore so easily in daylight.
“You should not be out here,” you said gently.
He glanced at you, then shrugged. “Neither should you.”
You sat beside him despite his tone.
Silence stretched before he finally said, “They will always hate me, you know. The Riddle name ensures it. People look at me and see him.”
You swallowed, realising with a jolt that he was letting you see a part of him no one else did. “Then let them see wrong. You are not him.”
He turned, eyes searching yours. “You say that so easily. As if you mean it.”
“I do mean it,” you whispered.
For once, Mattheo had no reply. He simply stared, the arrogance gone, leaving only something raw and unguarded.
From then on, the pact shifted. It was no longer about safety or strategy. It was about you and him, the unspoken pull between you.
He grew softer when no one else was looking, a brush of his hand against yours, a muttered goodnight that carried more weight than the word should. You grew bolder, teasing him back, laughing more easily when he smirked.
One evening in the common room, he leaned close, his voice low.
“Do you regret it? Making the pact?”
You met his gaze steadily. “Not for a second.”
Something broke in him then. He reached out, his fingers brushing your cheek as though testing a boundary. When you did not pull away, his lips met yours, the kiss slow and careful, as if he feared you might vanish.
When he drew back, his forehead rested against yours.
“You are mine now,” he whispered. “No pact, no bargain. Just mine.”
“And you are mine.”
The whispers never truly ceased, but it did not matter.
With Mattheo’s hand in yours, the weight of the world felt lighter.
What had begun as a pact of convenience had become the one thing you could not imagine losing.
And Mattheo Riddle, who once claimed he wanted only companionship, had found something far greater in you.
realize you've lost
mattheo riddle x f!reader x theodore nott
-you have a huge crush on Mattheo and have for a while, but after he crushes your heart by violently rejecting you, you realize how horrible he is and theo nott is there to save the day
-characters are 18+, reader is crushing hard, mean!mattheo, rudeness, strong feelings, embarrassment, humiliation, theodore comes to save the day, bullying
Having a crush on someone was possibly the best and worst parts of being human. The little delusional stares or the feeling as your heart spiked to unnatural levels just because he looked at you. Or if something completely normal happened, like brushing fingers as you handed him his fallen quill.
Moments like these kept you fed, but also kept you caged up in a small box that you wish you could break free from, if all you did was speak your thoughts and feelings to a boy that damn sure didn't deserve you—you just didn't know it at the time.
On the upside of having a crush, you giggled to your friends about him, ignoring their lingering wary glances at each other, mumbling under their breaths that Mattheo Riddle wasn't known for his kindess, but for the complete opposite.
You wrote in your journal most days about times where he'd glanced at you unconciously or where he did something you thought was super hot, to which he probably wasn't looking at all. Other days you knawed your lips to pieces after seeing him with other girls or if he ignored you without even realizing it (because you were no one to him).
On the nights you dreamt of him were the best. You went to sleep imagining his ink black eyes and the curls that were always frizzy and messy, wishing you could run your fingers over his smooth, mole-ridden skin—pressing your lips against his while wrapped in his arms.
In your dreams, it was much more intimate, full of pleasure which had you waking up embarrassed and avoiding your dormmates eyes.
Most times, your friends told you green and yellow didn't go together.
"He's far to harsh for you. Too mean, that's why all the girls he's dated want to kill him or kill for him," said Hannah Abbot, stuffing her face with pastries at dinner, eyes boring into yours lazily.
You scoffed in response, glancing over at the Slytherin table where the Draco Malfoy gang sat. The boy in question was munching on an apple, looking particularly tired and thrown together like he'd stumbled out of bed this morning and not even brushed his teeth.
He still looked exceptionally good on the eyes though, which made you smirk to yourself as you glanced away, feeling your cheeks heat up.
Just before you could ramble about his attractiveness, Hermione had slithered beside you, a few textbooks tucked under her arm before she slammed them against the table with a large huff, turning to you with a sheepish smile, "are you going on and on about Mattheo Riddle again?"
Zacharius Smith spoke up for you, nodding obnoxiously, "you should shut her up for once, it's becoming insufferable."
Hermione let out a sigh and tapped her fingers against the table, "why don't you put all that energy into liking Cedric Diggory? Besides, he's cute, respectful and I'm sure you could get a few perks since he's a prefect."
You glanced down the table at Diggory, who had just exploded with laughter at something his friend had said. You couldn't deny Hermione's words though—Cedric was cute, in a respectful sort of way that your parents would like. He didn't get into trouble, he was exceptionally smart, and best of all, he had a nice smile that had made plenty of girls swoon.
You just weren't one of them.
You liked the hint of sin that Mattheo Riddle had presented eversince he'd been at Hogwarts. You liked how mysterious he was, and the lover girl in you wanted to be the one to open his heart up and find out everything there was to know.
"You should take your own advice." You mutter, pressing your shoulder against Hermiones as you turned to look at Mattheo again, who was busy roughhousing with Blaise, before Snape intervened with a swift eyebrow raise that had them groaning and sitting.
Hermione hummed, "I don't need a crush right now. I have to focus on my studies and—"
"—and be the top of our class, blah, blah, I know. Let's not pretend like you and Ron haven't been trading looks for the past few weeks." You said with an eyeroll, pushing your empty plate away as you gathered your belongings, preparing to leave the Great Hall.
Hermione conviently became quiet as she stood, a frown tainting her features while a contradicting blush made her cheeks pink. You chuckled in response, "maybe he'd loosen your stress a little."
At your smug smirk, Hermione stuck her middle finger at you and bounded towards the Gryffindor table while you said goodbyes to your friends and continued out of the Great Hall, wishing to spare a look at Mattheo once more, but you wanted to remain subtle—or as subtle as you could manage, which wasn't much.
Little did you know, he had been watching you the entire time.
୨ৎ
Mattheo didn't even know your name.
He'd saw you plenty times in class, his eyes gliding right over your figure to focus on something else, something worth looking at like the Ravenclaw girl that sat beside you who'd started wearing a pushup bra and was obviously shoving it in his face.
Of course, Mattheo had realized your lingering stares on him though. He chalked it up to simple curiosity, besides, he was the son of he who shall not be named, and that made him a target of plenty things, including bad and good.
The first day the two of you locked eyes, Mattheo ignored it. And the second time, his face skewed up before he shook his head and ignored you once more. That's when he started avoiding you entirely, opting to not look in your direction at all because he thought it was some sort of weird obsession that including staring.
But as he sat in the Great Hall, watching you continuously turn around to stare, he sneered and knudged Theodore, who sat beside him meddling with a Rubix cube.
"Nott, who the hell is that girl? She's been staring at me for weeks now." Theodore ignored Mattheo at first, tongue peaking out of his lips as he solved a Rubix cube, sighing disappointedly once he stopped his timer and realized he'd barely overcame his last time.
"Uh, what girl?" He finally looked up, looking in the direction that Mattheo nodded, eyebrows skewed up trying to find who Mattheo was actually referring to, but one you turned around again to stare, Theodore hummed in recognition.
"Oh, that's your little admirer. She's liked you for a while I think, but you've never realized."
"She likes me? Weird way of showing it." Mattheo chewed on his thumbnail, thinking to himself as Theodore started solving his cube again.
"Well, she's pretty shy I think, not surprising considering she's a Hufflepuff."
Of course Mattheo wanted to say something. He wasn't shy and he didn't mind speaking up even if it meant hurting your feelings. Besides, you were just a random girl who had a meaningless crush, but that's when he started disliking it more.
Before he knew it you could start harming his flings. Surely other people had caught on to your little crush, and the sort of girls that liked Mattheo were the ones who were possessive and territorial.
Theodore saw the look on Mattheo's face and shook his head with a soft chuckle, slapping his friend on the arm, "you bastard, you'll crush her little world if you say anything."
Mattheo rolled his eyes with a scoff, "I don't give a fuck, besides it's a bit weird, innit? It's like she's obsessed or something."
Theodore grumbled and shook his head, "you're impossible. And don't pretend like you don't enjoy a pretty girl fawning over you like a little impressionable puppy."
Mattheo tilted his head back and forth with a cocky smirk, "it does feel nice, I guess. Still doesn't change the fact though."
୨ৎ
You'd been wanting to ask Mattheo out for a while now. It was a little shadow looming in the back of your mind, and you couldn't go much longer yearning without acting on your feelings.
Besides, you knew you were pretty. Pretty enough that other boys had liked you in the past, but you were always too shy to go very far with them. They moved too quickly, and you wanted to do the complete opposite.
You wanted the cute dates and lingering hands that eventually led into gentle kisses and gentle sex that you could tell your friends all about without being ashamed.
Of course you didn't get that for your first time, but it was nice to dream.
So when you started plotting on how you would confess your feelings to Mattheo, it was a shit show. Your friend's warned you away from it, steered you clear of Mattheo whenever they could, and tried to focus your attention on other boys, like Theodore Nott, who they thought were perfect.
He had that mysteriousness that Mattheo had, and he was a Slytherin, which seemed to excite you the most. But you were having none of it.
The moment you got away from them, you'd made your way towards the Slytherin table, heart hammering in your chest, fingers shaking like you were a leaf, and sweat piling on your skin like you'd been dipped in a pool.
You had no large way to confess, you just wanted to get your words out and see what would happen.
Once you made it over, it seemed all of Draco's gang had saw you besides Mattheo, and they all held different facial expressions. Pansy looked smug and excited for something, Draco was bored, and Blaise was just placcid, like he was expecting something, but didn't know what.
Theodore Nott on the other hand avoided your eyes, fingers clenching his quill tightly as he scribbled random, imperceivable words in a thick journal.
"Mattheo?" You said quietly, tapping his shoulder gently, your hands tugging on the bottom of your shirt nervously, the hairs on your neck damp from sweat.
You had to tap him again to get his attention, "what?" He said lazily, spinning around on the bench to look at you, and when he saw you, he just about groaned.
"Can't stay away can you?" He muttered to himself, watching you pull something out of your pocket and fiddle with it, your chest rising heavily as your eyebrows skewed up in confusion at his tone.
"I wanted to invite you to—" suddenly he snatched the paper from your hands, ignoring Pansy's chuckles, her gaze stinging against your skin like every other pair of eyes were as they begin to glue to you curiously.
You stepped backwards as your eyes began to cloud with tears—fustrated tears that you sucked up as Mattheo's eyes slide over the note and he leaned back against the table and smirked at you, "you want to know something, Hufflepuff? You're weird. I don't fancy these little looks you've been given me and frankly, I should've reported you a long time ago."
As Mattheo gave you the note back, Theodore turned to look at his friend, jaw clenched tightly as he sneered, but said nothing.
It felt like your skin was on fire as you stood there, frozen, hearing people laugh at you as Mattheo insulted you in a thousand ways that made you want to either punch him in the face or disappear indefinetely.
"People don't expect the girls to be creeps, but you're the best example—"
"Merlin, Mattheo, just fucking stop! You sit here and insult the girl like she's trash, but she's been nothing but fucking nice!" Theodore seemed to explode like a ticking time bomb, his fingers running over his face in exhaustion as he stood.
"She had a simple crush and you're bullying her for it. You're such a fucking dick, and you didn't listen when I told you not to humiliate her!"
Theodore turned towards you, but you were gone, the Great Hall doors slamming closed behing you. When Mattheo simple laughed and picked up his forgotten plate of food, Theodore slapped it from his grip and flipped him off, gathering his belongings as he ran to catch up with you.
"You fucking suck, Theo!" Mattheo shouted, but Theodore ignored him, eyes searching for you, but he didn't see you.
Honestly, his heart hurt for you. He wished he could've stopped it before it started, but he told himself to not get involved.
He didn't know you much, but he'd shared a few words with you in the past when the two of you were paired for projects or if the two of you traded notes for studying.
He'd completmented you on your effortless organization and you'd done the same, relating on plenty niche things, like the fact that both of you enjoyed origami or badly made movies.
As soon as Theodore heard sniffing near a small nook behind a pair of rear stairs, he let out a breath of relief and peaked around the corner. When he saw your figure curled in on itself in the windowsill, crying so hard you could barely breath, he cleared his throat softly, and you flinched, rushing to wipe your tears as you turned to him.
"Theodore? What are you doing here? I'd assume you'd be laughing at me with your devilish friend." Theodore shook his head silently and sat beside you in the sill, placing his bag on the floor near his feet as he let out a deep sigh and turned to you.
"Everything he said was bullshit. He was just trying to embarrass you—"
"—he did a great fucking job!" Theodore laughed humorlessly and picked at the beaded bracelet on his wrist, "you know it's normal to have a crush—normal to stare at your crush. It's not weird or obsessive, it's normal."
You'd stopped crying, which was Theodore's goal, but now you were busy staring blankly at your hands, "I should've listened to my friends when they said choose you."
Theodore hummed in surprise, reaching up to scratch his neck, his hair messy against his forehead, "choose me? What do you mean?"
You smiled and inhaled deeply, shaking your head, "they told me Mattheo was horrible, so they said choose you—someone nice and soft and loving, who I actually knew and got along with, but I was too stupid and caught up to even realize."
There was a tense sort of silence between the two of you after your words. Like uncovered feelings had just been released to the surface, but neither of you wanted to bring light to it.
You wholeheartedly felt stupid and embarrassed, but Theodore was buzzing with a weird excitement that made him grin to himself, "what was on the paper?"
You hummed, avoiding his eyes because you knew yours were puffy and red, "it was an address to a tea shop in Hogsmeade." You pulled the note from your pocket and handed it to Theodore, "I was going to invite Mattheo there, but—"
"I'll go." You gasped lowly in surprise, eyes locking onto his as Theodore shoved the note in his pocket and stood, "saturday at noon, I'll meet you there."
Your body was frozen with shock, but then you nodded—eagerly—"yes, that's perfect."
It was like you'd never liked Mattheo in the first place. Now all you could see was tea with Theodore Nott at night at noon.
How the Slytherin boys would react to you getting into a physical fight with another student
Tom:
he would be so nonchalant
he would see, you all hands on deck
break it up
pull you away
when he's walking you off, you're catching your breath
he would say, "Pull yourself together" so sternly
"I don't need people saying I'm dating a classless troll, hear me"
when you nod with embarrassment, he would roll his eyes
leading you to his dorm, you would gather the courage to ask where he's taking you
"teaching you not to use your fucking hands; I'm never above hurting the enemy; you want to hurt someone? I'll teach you a few spells" he would say, stoic
"fighting with her hands like a fucking muggle" you would hear him scoff under his breath, shaking his head in disapproval
Matteo:
Honestly, Matteo would love a psycho girl. You can't tell me different
when he heard chanting 'Fight!' he ran to the scene
Matteo would never miss a good brawl
when he pushed through the crowd and realised it was you amidst the chaos, he smiled
"Come on Baby! swing" he would clap, telling the bystanders that was his girlfriend
when the boyfriend of the girl you were fighting started talking too much shit, he rolls his own sleeves up
couples who fight together stay together?
Theodore:
when the two of you went to the library for a late night study, the lights were dim, and Theodore wasn't able to see you properly
when you were walking back to Dungouns, it was windy, and the your jumper had slipt slightly off your shoulder, revealing a small bruise
Theodore would stop you immediately "what's this?" he would question pulling the fabric down even further to see if more followed
"what happened." he would say
"I bumped into a bookcase?" you try
"I was with you all night, no you fucking didn't. I'll ask you one more time. What. Happened?"
"I got into a little fight" you admitted
"Huh? Who, when" he would start
"Doesn't matter Theo, I won. This is my battle scar" you smiled pulling your jumper back up
"It was with a girl right? No guy hit you" he sternly continued his interrogation
"No Theodore, it was a Gryindor, alright a girl"
"Good, I wasn't in the mood to have to kill someone... long day" he huffed opening the door for you, entering the common room
Lorenzo:
you and your friends would be in the hall eating dinner
when Blaise says, "Hey, y/n, any reason why (the person you fought) ended up in the hospital wing and you didn't even need to pay Pomfrey a visit?"
Why would you go to Pomfreys? enzo would ask mouth full of food
"oh? you didn't hear about the cat fight in the corridor today" Blaise laughed
Enzo practically choked on his food.
"You got into a fight?" he looked up
you didn't reply. To Enzo no answer was an answer
"My little angel got into a fight and didn't tell me... did you win?"
Draco:
he would make such a fuss
"it was Ginny Weasley" you laughed
"What!?"
"Yeah, we got into it because he was talking shit about you, so I started talking shit about Harry, and it escalated" you smiled
"And?" he pried
"Gryifindors arent as courageous as they say," you say
"That's right darling, let's go walk past their common room, wanna torment Potter bout this" he smirked
Blaise
he would be on the quidditch pitch, playing
when a girl next to you was talking about how he's not a good player, how her boyfriend on the opposing team would smash them
"you wanna get smashed by my fist next? that's my boyfriend you're talking about," you would say
"well tell your boyfriend he's eating shit this match?" she smiled back
pouncing through the bleachers you attacked
when Blaise caught sight of Pansy pulling you off her, and the girl running off with a blood nose, he smirked
he played so well the rest of the game
walking out of the locker rooms, he found you
"I won on the pitch, you won off the pitch hunny" he would smile wrapping an arm around you
"Do you know what she said?" you started to rile up again
"She said that-" you started
"No, no, you took care of it, that's it" he smiled down at you
