Slytherin Boys Imagines

𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗆 𝗀𝖾𝗍𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗃𝖾𝖺𝗅𝗈𝗎𝗌 𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝗒𝗈𝗎 (𝖿𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗇𝖽𝗌 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝖻𝖾𝗇𝖾𝖿𝗂𝗍𝗌 𝖾𝖽𝗂𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇)

                    *friends with benefits* *requested*
                         ────── ∘◦ ⛤☽⛤ ◦∘ ──────

Draco Malfoy:

⛤ You were talking with your potions partner, a Gryffindor boy, in the library, laughing over some sort of joke he'd made. His hand grazed over yours softly, when you noticed someone out of the corner of your eyes.

⛤ Noticing Draco leaning against one of the bookshelves, the corner of your lips pulled into a soft smirk. You immediately noticed the way that his jaw was clenched, his knuckles white as he grabbed the edge of the wooden aisle. 

Suddenly, Draco stormed towards the two of you, and you watched patiently as the scene unfolded. Draco rested his palms on the table, his arms on either side of you as he stared your potions partner down. The Gryffindor boy had the common sense to look scared - borderline terrified - as Draco continued to openly scrutinise him. "What do you want with her?" Draco snapped, and the boy swallowed, his gaze darting between you and Draco before he spoke, "We're just potions partners. There's nothing going on." The boy stammered, and you couldn't help but feel bad. 

You tilted your back, looking up at Draco, who was leaning over you, "Leave him be, Draco. We were just talking." He looked down at you, suspiciously raising a brow at you. A muscle feathered in his jaw as he looked back towards the boy. "Based on her word," Draco gestured towards you, "I'm going to let you go. But keep in mind, if I ever see you touch her, or so much as look at her wrong, the next thing you'll be seeing are the curtains of the infirmary. So I would strongly suggest that you keep your hands off of my girl."  

The boy nodded rapidly, before rushing away, much to Draco's satisfaction. You scoffed, before leaning back in the chair and tilting your head up to look at him, "Your girl?" He leaned down, his lips grazing over your forehead as he spoke. "Do you doubt it, love? Cause I sure as hell don't." 

A soft laugh escaped your lips at his reply, "And what if I said that I do doubt it?" He rolled his eyes, taking his arms off of the table. Taking a seat on the table in front of you, he rested his arms behind him, holding his weight, "I would tell you that there's a reason that your clothes are on the floor of my room every night." His words stained your cheeks a light pink as you looked away instantly, shutting out memories of what he spoke about. 

Mattheo Riddle:

⛤ Someone's stare bore into the back of your head, and you didn't even need to turn to know that it was Mattheo. The boy in front of you was your cousin - not that Mattheo knew that. You dropped your voice to a whisper, ensuring that Mattheo couldn't hear before you spoke to your cousin, "You know the guy behind us that's glaring at us?"

⛤ "The one that looks like he'd like to take my head off?" Your cousin asked, somewhat scared. You hummed in response, "He doesn't know you're my cousin, so he's probably plotting the different ways he could kill you without being caught." 

At that, your cousin burst out laughing, his hands on his legs as tears glazed the sides of his eyes. At the sight of him, you couldn't help the laughter that left your own lips. Before you knew it, a pair of arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you backwards and pressing you flush against his torso. Mattheo leaned down and rested his head atop your shoulder, no doubt glaring at your cousin. 

"Hello, darling." His voice was low in your ear, and an involuntary shudder ran through you. "Hey, Mattheo." You greeted back, putting your hands above his. He smirked smugly as he looked back towards your cousin. "You don't have to stop your incredibly comedic conversation on my behalf. Go ahead," Mattheo stated, inclining his head towards your cousin.