the slytherin boys imagines and reacts

mr ☆ get him back!

❃゜・。. ・°゜✼ ゜°・ . 。・゜❃

i met a guy last summer and i left him in the spring

"hey," you shielded your eyes with your hand from the sun, squinting at the figure in front of you.

"hey," you replied. you allowed your eyes to adjust, realising that a literal god of a man was standing in front of you.

"i'm mattheo," he brung his hand out in front of him for a hand shake.

"i'm y/n."

he argued with me about everything he had an ego and a tempter and a wandering eye

"you're such a dick! you were fully undressing her with your eyes!" you shouted at him, heated, absolutely enraged he was gaslighting you.

"staring at who?! you're making things up," mattheo ran his hand through his stupidly soft, brown hair.

"oh making things up?" you laughed at the stupidity that was coming out of his mouth, "i have eyes! i could see you checking her out as if i weren't right next to you!"

"yeah, whatever," he scoffed and walked away

he said he's six foot two

"and i'm like dude nice try," you giggled to pansy, gossiping about all the juicy drama to her.

"you love tall guys, he seems perfect," you blushed at her words, knowing she was right.

but he was so much fun, and he had such weird friends

"why do you have a ferret?" you questioned mattheo.

"it's just draco, i'm taking him back to snape to see if he can fix him," he chuckled and handed the white animal over to you.

"and how exactly did he get in this predicament?" you giggled as the little thing tried to bite

and he would take us out to parties and the night would ever end
another song, another club, another bar, another dance

you were pressed up against mattheo, grinding on him as the music deafened you. his hands were glued to your hips, gluing you to him.

"another drink?" he shouted in your ear.

"fuck yeah!" you shouted back, heading over to the bar to order another 10 shots.

and when he said something wrong he'd just fly me to france

"c'mon darlin, drivers here and he's taking us to my family's villa," you stepped off of the plane in paris, feeling like some sort of royalty.

"i can hardly speak french," you giggled, heading over to the personal driver who was parked, awaiting your arrival.

"i'll speak it for you, sweetheart," he winked, opening the car door for you.

so i miss him some nights when i'm feeling depressed

you laid on your side, mascara smudged all under your eyes as you continued to stare off into space; your mind on one person, and one person only.

you rolled onto your back, staring at the still ceiling as you reminisced the times he held you in his arms, the way his soft lips felt against your lips - and everywhere else on your body.