Slytherin boys one shots/imagines

Find out you were a Bet

Tom Riddle's voice echoed in the dimly lit room, his tone cold and composed as he faced the bitter.

"You know, it's amusing how we convince ourselves of the authenticity of our emotions, only to realize that it was all a charade." He said slightly smirking.

I stood there, stunned and betrayed, my eyes searching Tom's face for a sign that this was all a sick joke.

"What are you saying, Tom? Was everything we had just a game to you?" My voice trembled as the words left.

"A game, a bet, a manipulation—call it what you will. It appears I was just another player in a scheme crafted by one of my so-called friends."

My heart sank as the weight of Tom's revelation settled in. The room seemed to close in on us, and the air turned heavy with a mix of disbelief and heartbreak.

"I thought what we had was real. I believed in you."

"Ah, belief—a fragile thing easily shattered. Your mistake was assuming that I, of all people, could feel something as trivial as love."

I took a step back, the reality of the situation sinking in. Tom, the enigmatic and charming figure I thought I knew, was nothing more than a pawn in a cruel game.

The room fell into a heavy silence, the shattered illusion of love hanging between them like a ghost. In that moment, I realized that the love I thought was real had been nothing more than a lie woven into the fabric of Tom Riddle's twisted reality.

—-

Mattheo Riddle's expression darkened as he faced the harsh truth, his eyes revealing a storm of conflicting emotions.

Mattheo stared at me, his voice filled with bitterness, "It seems I've been played for a fool. Every emotion, every shared moment—all orchestrated for a bet."

I stood before him, my eyes widening in disbelief, hoping against hope that Mattheo's words were nothing more than a cruel jest.

"A bet? You can't be serious, Mattheo. What are you talking about?"

"I wish it were a jest. But it appears my affections, my vulnerabilities—every ounce of my sincerity—were nothing more than entertainment for my friends."

My heart sank, the weight of Mattheo's revelation settling in like a heavy fog. The love I thought was genuine crumbled in the face of this harsh reality.

"I believed in us, Mattheo. I thought what we had was real."

"Real? Real was never an option in this twisted game. I was a pawn in their game of manipulation, a character in a play written by someone else."

A tense silence hung in the air, the shattered illusion of love casting a shadow over the room.

As the reality of the betrayal sank in, Mattheo and I stood in a room filled with the remnants of shattered trust and broken illusions. The love I thought was true had been nothing more than a cruel lie, and the pain of that realization echoed in the heavy silence.

—

Theodore Nott's eyes held a mix of regret and frustration as he faced the harsh reality, his voice carrying the weight of disappointment.

"You deserve to know the truth. What we had—it was never real. It was just a game, a facade, fueled by intoxication and the amusement of my so-called friends."

I stood there, a whirlwind of emotions churning within me, desperately hoping that Theodore's words were nothing more than a drunken ramble.

"Theo, you can't be serious. Was everything between us just a drunken escapade?"