Harry Potter Imagines

Addicted || Mattheo Riddle

He was like a drug. I didn't want to, but I kept coming back for more. I was addicted and utterly whipped for him.

His dark-eyes, his smirk, his touch. Oh, how I craved his touch. The way his hands roamed all over my body, the way he whispered sweet, dangerous words into my ear, the way he sent me into a blissful euphoria every time he kissed me. Nothing quite satisfied the hunger and longing Mattheo Riddle had put me through.

Tom Riddle, Lord Voldemort's son. I should know better than to get caught up in his mess. And I've tried. But ever since the first time he locked eye contact with me and smiled dangerously, making my knees weak and filling my mind with fantasies, I knew that I was too weak to deny him.

I was absolutely lost beyond repair when he first kissed me. No matter how many times he hurt me after that, no matter how many times I broke down crying because of his words, I always went back to him at the first chance.

It was toxic, it was unhealthy, but I needed him.

Even though he didn't need me. He had me obsessing over him when he took me out on the most romantic dates and seductive words, only to leave the next day and pretend nothing ever happened.

As if he enjoyed toying with my feelings. With my heart and watching me squirm from his lack of attention.

It only made me want him even more.

Oh I hated how helpless I was to him. I hated the control he had over me with a single glance. But I loved it too. I loved the chase, the confusion, the insanity of it all.

"What is this, your fifth time now?" Hermione wrinkled her nose in disgust as her eyes scanned over a thick book. "You've broken up and gotten back together for more times than any of us can count."

"No, Mione," I rolled my eyes. "Actually I have no idea if we were ever official in the first place, so we technically didn't break up."

She slammed the cover of the book shut, "When are you going to learn, Nakasha? I don't like how he keeps hurting you."

"He doesn't keep hurting me..." Even my words sounded weak to myself.

"What do you see in him anyway? I mean sure, he's good-looking, but still," Hermione sounded exasperated. "You're relationship with him isn't healthy, it's driving you crazy. Please, you deserve someone who would treat you the way you deserve, not someone who keeps playing hot and cold as if you don't have feelings."

"Hermione-"

"He's a monster, Nakasha. A devil. And devils don't bargain. He'll only break your heart again. You want to change him, but he's never going to change. He will never be your Prince Charming in the Muggle stories, he'll just do you harm again. I don't want to meddle but the devil will not settle. Please, come to your senses."

I sighed, then laughed softly, "You think I don't know that?"

"You don't act like it."

"Just leave me alone, please."

Her intelligent brown-eyes were worried. I knew she was right, Hermione Granger was never wrong, but she didn't understood the feeling I had towards Mattheo. She didn't understand the thirst, the desire, the urge.

Nothing could satisfy it besides him. Nothing. 

"Let's get to class," she changed the topic. "We're going to be late to Astronomy."

Astronomy. One of the many classes that I shared with Mattheo. 

The moment Hermione and I walked up to the tower, he was the first person I saw. I ignored Harry and Ron as they yammered on about something, because it was impossible to take my eyes off him. Professor Aurora Sinistra began to speak about stars and soulmates, but like usual, I didn't hear a word.

Mattheo Riddle looks like a god.

His dark curls, unruly yet each one spiralled perfectly. Those dark-eyes with everything except kindness in them. The scratch on his nose which was turning into a faded red and the cut in his right eyebrow. Everything about him was sculpted to be imperfectly perfect. Chiseled jaw, tanned skin, the ruthless and indifferent glint in his eyes. Was there a single flaw?

As I kept on staring, his tongue slowly grazed over his pink lips, leaving me utterly mesmerized. Mattheo turned his head slowly, locking eye contact with me, as if aware of how I was shamelessly drooling over him for the past five minutes. He dropped his gaze from my eyes to my lips then back up to my eyes, bit his lip, smirked, and promptly ignored me.

Damn.

After class ended, I made sure that everyone left before me. Surely then there were no chances of bumping into him. I was completely wrong as usual.

The moment my foot landed outside the door frame, a hand grabbed my wrist and roughly shoved me against the wall. Fate was really something else. I kept my eyes shut as if that would make him go away. It was like one of those little kids playing hide-and-seek who thought that if they can't see you, then you can't see them.

"Look at me."

Holy fücking god. The raspiness of his voice could make a grown man piss his pants.

"Hi, Mattheo," I said as nonchalantly as possible as if my back wasn't pressed against the cold marble wall with my wrists bound and above my head and a sexy man extremely close to me and looking at me as if I was prey and he was hunting me down.

"Why did you leave the class so late? Are you that scared of me?" he sounded amused.

"No, uh-I was helping the professor."

"Liar," He grinned. Wow, his smile was breathtaking, no matter how evil and sadistic it was "You couldn't keep your eyes off me in class. I didn't know that ignoring you for two days could have you begging for my attention."

"I'm not begging anyone for anything," I huffed. I hated the word. Beg. Psh. As if I ever begged for anything in my life.

His nose bumped against my cheek as he leaned in. I gulped. His warm breath fanned over my neck and I was already begging inside my head for more. My heart started to beat faster and faster as Mattheo planted a small kiss on the side of my neck, right above my collarbone. A small whimper left my mouth.

"Not begging, huh? So you'll be alright if I just stop right now, won't you?" Mattheo smirked, stopping his trail of kisses down the side of my neck.

NO ABSOLUTELY NOT.

I shut my mouth and didn't say a word, not trusting my own tongue not to betray me.

 He wrapped his large hands around my neck, staring into my eyes with an annoyed expression and snapped, "Answer me. Do you want me to continue?"

I shook my head. Then nodded. The shook my head again.

"Use your words," The pressure increased on my throat.

"Yes," I squeaked out.

"Yes? What do you want?"

"I-I want you-" My words were cut off by a gasp as he attacked my neck once more, kissing and sucking on the skin ferociously as if there wasn't a tomorrow. Dazed, my knees buckled but Mattheo caught me and wrapped my legs around his waist, pushing me against the wall and even closer to him.

His fingers trailed down my shirt, stopping when he reached end and slipped his hand under the fabric. I shivered at the contact of his hand caressing my stomach.

Then all of a sudden he stopped.

I was abruptly snatched out of the daydream, staring at him with confused, questioning wide eyes, chest heaving and gasping for breath. 

Mattheo smirked, tucking my hair behind my ear and whispered, "Pity that you're just a plaything to me."

He turned around and left.

I had no expression on my face. This wasn't anything new. Yet each time it happened, it broke my heart to pieces all over again.

Then I pretend as if nothing happened the next day and carried on with the obsession.

Too bad that I'm addicted to Mattheo Riddle.