𝐑𝐈𝐃𝐃𝐋𝐄 𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐓𝐒 | mattheo riddle

𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐃𝐈𝐄

This one shot is recommended by @LittleBee_pollen3 <3

✯¸.•'*¨'*•✿ ✿•*'¨*'•.¸✯

The boys are at quidditch practice. Now's my only chance - my only chance to sneak into Riddle's dorm and to claim what I desire the most.

His hoodie.

He has loads. And I know that because I see him wearing a different one each day. They look so comfy and right now, I'm freezing. This winter weather ain't good, and my dorm is cold as shit. So, I figured his hoodies would be the solution.

Which one? I don't know yet. I'll take my pick when I get to is dorm. A girls got to do, what a girls got to do. And I know stealing is a bad thing, don't get me wrong - but this is Mattheo Riddle we're talking about.

I hate him so if it makes him angry, then that'll only make me happy. It's funny to see him rage, I just love messing with him.

I tip toe into his room and open the door, looking around his dorm to find everything so neat and bloody tidy. Everything is black - not one pop of colour. Just how I expected it to be.

The smell of his cologne dissipates throughout the room and I take it in. He's a shitty person but he smells good I guess.

I head to his cupboard and open it up, my eyes meeting with his array of hoodies. My heart melts.

I'm in love.

WITH THE HOODIES- NOT HIM.

I look at all of them - and they're either black, grey, or something in that tone range.

I take a black one and pull it over me, and I instantly realise it's way too big for me - which only makes it more comforting.

I hug myself, embracing the softness of his hoodie, when suddenly, someone clears their throat from behind me.

I freeze.

"Now what are you doing in here princess?"

I slowly turn around and I'm met with his eyes- god those eyes. His hair is all wet and curly, presumably because it was raining during their quidditch practice.

Hot.

"Um... nothing." I say, quickly, shutting the cupboard door and trying to run right past him and out of his dorm in my fluffy slippers, but he swiftly stops me and grabs me, swinging me over his shoulder. "Hey!"

"My hoodie huh?" He says laughing, before he throws me onto the bed, but instead of letting go of him, I slyly pull him down with me, until he lands on top of me.

Oh crap.

He hovers above me, scans my body and I begin to grow nervous.

"I was cold." I shrug.

"I was cold." He mocks me, rolling his eyes.

"Well suck it up buttercup. I'm wearing your hoodie. It keeps me nice and warm and snug." I say, tapping his cheek.

"It's way too big on you." He scoffs, scanning my body once more.

"Oversized is the best." I say, and he flops onto the bed beside me.

We both stare at the ceiling before he speaks.

"Ever wondered how our hatred for each other ever started?" He sighs.

"Uh yes?" I scoff. "Everyday!"

"What?"

"That day in first year when you stuck your leg out and tripped me over, and I landed straight on my face, and got a cut right across my eyebrow?" I say, pointing to my brow. "See this scar Mattheo Riddle? Yeah, you did that."

He glances over at it, before turning his body to face me, and he grazes his finger across it.

"It looks cool. A scar across your eyebrow." He says. "It adds some personality to your face."

"Personality?" I scoff, whacking a pillow on him.

"Yes, y/n." He laughs, grabbing the pillow and rubbing it in my face.

I push it off of my, both of us becoming breathless as we laugh non-stop, fighting over the pillow. I end up straddling him, trying to pull it off of him but he pauses for a second, looking up at me. I take my chance and budge forward, shoving the pillow on his face when I feel two cold hands hold onto my waist.

I move the pillow to the side and look down at him.

"Your hands are cold." I say, and he switches our places, pushing my off of him before he gets on top, hovering above my body.

"And?"

I roll my eyes and pull the covers over both of us, and he rolls his tongue across his cheek, as he lays beside me, his hand still holding onto my waist as he faces towards me, my breath hitching at the feeling.

"Better?" I say so quietly, it's practically a whisper.

He pulls me closer to him, eliminating the space between us as he budges my hips against his, each inch of our body touching, our faces extremely close, but our lips not close enough.

"So much better y/n."