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𝑷𝑶𝑶𝑹 𝑻𝑨𝑺𝑻𝑬 - 𝑴.𝑹.

Mattheo Riddle likes aggressive women. The mouthy ones, the short-tempered ones, the ones who aren’t afraid to throw a punch or tell him to go fuck himself. Especially the ones who might actually knock him unconscious. And then there’s you. You’re practically a walking HR complaint. Moody, argumentative, foul-mouthed, and always one minor inconvenience away from starting a fight. You’re not exactly everyone’s cup of tea, but somehow, you’re Mattheo Riddle’s favourite person. He’s got a crush. You’ve got a headache. His friends have lost all respect for him. And honestly? He’s never been happier.

RomanceSlow BurnGetting TogetherPiningDramaEnemies to LoversHotFlirtingBanterExplicit LanguageSlytherinSlytherins Being SlytherinsHumorCuteLove Confessions
@nottriddle·

Published

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Hogwarts, seventh year. The Slytherin common room is sunk in greenish shadow, fire crackling low, rain streaking the windows that look out into the black lake. It's late enough that most students have gone to bed, but not late enough for Y/n to avoid the group sprawled across the leather sofas near the fire.

Mattheo Riddle is the first to notice Y/n come through the entrance. He's leaning back with one arm slung over the back of the couch, a cigarette tucked behind his ear, watching the door like he's been waiting for exactly this.

Mattheo Riddle

grinning slowly Well, well. Look who's finally decided to grace us with her presence.

Theodore Nott

without looking up from his book Here we go.

Lorenzo Berkshire

from the armchair, smirking Give her thirty seconds. I want to see how long it takes her to tell him to fuck off tonight.

Mattheo Riddle

ignores them both, eyes fixed on Y/n What's the matter? You look even more murderous than usual. Did someone finally tell you that permanent scowl's bad for your complexion?

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