#𓏵 ⋮ 𝙈𝙖𝙩𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙤 𝙍𝙞𝙙𝙙𝙡𝙚

[theodorenmyth]

Little Loveboy

Pairings; Mattheo Riddle x GN!reader

Summary: Mattheo Riddle has been hopelessly in love with you since third year, but he refuses to admit it. He dates around, flirts with random girls, and scoffs whenever his friends bring you up—but he just can't shake his feelings. His jealousy is uncontrollable, and his friends never let him hear the end of it. Eventually, even professors start teasing him, much to his dismay.

A/n : starting from today to the 16th of February, I'm gonna make Valentine themed fanfics so no angst.

Warnings ; none

Word count ; 900+

Mattheo Riddle was, as Theodore put it, fucking doomed.

He had been doomed since third year, when he first saw you absolutely wreck the entire class during a debate with Snape about the properties of Amortentia. The way your eyes gleamed with passion, the way you sat so effortlessly confident, the way you were just so fucking smart—it made his heart do something weird. Like it wanted to jump out of his chest and roll across the floor.

And that? That wasn’t normal.

So, obviously, he did the only logical thing—he ignored it. For years.

Instead of admitting that he found you painfully attractive, he spent his time flirting with girls, dating left and right, pretending like he wasn’t being driven up the wall whenever you smiled at someone else.

But the problem with having a hopelessly obvious crush was that Mattheo’s friends were absolute menaces.

“You’re staring again, Little Loveboy,” Pansy sang, flicking his forehead.

“I’m not staring,” Mattheo grumbled, leaning back in his chair, definitely not still looking at you.

“Right,” Blaise drawled, looking over at where you were sitting by the window, absorbed in a book. “That’s why you’ve been looking at Y/N for the past—what? Fifteen minutes?”

“I don’t like him,” Mattheo snapped, but the moment he said it, he glanced at you again.

And just like that, Theodore fucking grinned.

“Oh, mate,” Theo laughed, shaking his head. “You are so gone.”

Draco, sitting beside him, smirked. “It’s honestly embarrassing at this point.”

“You know what’s embarrassing?” Mattheo scoffed. “The fact that you all have nothing better to do than bother me.”

“You make it too easy,” Lorenzo snickered. “Little Loveboy.”

“I will throw you out the fucking window.”

And then, as if the universe hated Mattheo, you looked up from your book. Your eyes met his for half a second, and you smiled at him—a simple, small thing, but oh my fucking God.

Mattheo nearly choked on his own tongue.

His friends exploded into laughter.

“Oh, he’s red!” Pansy gasped. “He’s actually blushing!”

“Shut the fuck up,” Mattheo hissed, yanking his hood over his face.

But the teasing didn’t stop there.

No, it got worse.

Because apparently, his suffering was entertainment to not only his friends, but also his professors.

During one particularly terrible Potions class, Mattheo had spent a good portion of the lesson staring at you. Not that he noticed. It just kept happening..

And Snape, ever the observant bastard, took full advantage of this.

“Mr. Riddle,” Snape drawled, interrupting the entire class, “perhaps you would find this lesson more engaging if you spent less time gazing longingly at Mr. Y/L/N and more time focusing on the assignment?”

The entire class turned to look at him.

Mattheo’s jaw dropped.

Even you looked over, blinking in surprise.

“Oh, fuck me,” Mattheo muttered under his breath as his friends burst out laughing.

“Bloody hell,” Draco wheezed, gripping the edge of the table. “Even Snape’s in on it.”

“I hate all of you,” Mattheo gritted out, slamming his book shut.

Snape smirked. “Detention, Riddle.”

Mattheo groaned.

But it didn’t stop there.

Because McGonagall got involved too.

During Transfiguration, Mattheo had, once again, found himself subconsciously staring at you instead of his assignment.

He was trying—he really was—but you had this habit of biting your lip when you were focused, and it was distracting as fuck.

“Mr. Riddle,” McGonagall said, sighing dramatically, “if you’re quite done swooning over Mr. Y/L/N, perhaps you’d like to contribute to the class?”

The Gryffindors howled with laughter.

Mattheo buried his face in his hands. “I’m actually going to die.”

And, of course, the final nail in the coffin was Hagrid.

It was during Care of Magical Creatures. You were partnered with some random Ravenclaw—too close, too friendly, and Mattheo hated it.

He stood there, arms crossed, glowering at the poor guy.

“Merlin, that’s a death stare if I’ve ever seen one,” Theo muttered.

And then, loudly, Hagrid chuckled, “Oh, don’t be jealous, Mattheo, ‘s not like Y/N’s runnin’ off to marry ‘im.”

You turned to look at Mattheo.

Mattheo, absolutely horrified, turned and ran into the fucking woods.

──── ୨୧ ──────── ୨୧ ────

After that, Mattheo’s denial crumbled like a cheap pastry.

He liked you. He liked you so much it physically hurt.

And after weeks of torment, he finally decided—fuck it.

So, he found you sitting by the Black Lake one afternoon, reading as always, and he sat down beside you.

You glanced up, surprised. “Hey, Mattheo.”

Mattheo almost short-circuited.

Your voice. Your fucking voice.

“Hey,” he muttered, trying to act casual, even though his entire body was buzzing with nerves. “So. Uh. I—uh.”

You raised an eyebrow, amused. “You okay?”

Mattheo exhaled sharply. Just do it, Riddle.

“I like you, okay?” he blurted out.

You blinked. “You—what?”

Mattheo groaned. “I like you. I’ve liked you since third year. I tried to ignore it, but—Merlin, you’re just so fucking cute and smart and perfect and I can’t stop thinking about you.”

Your face slowly turned red.

“Oh,” you said.

Mattheo stared at you, heart pounding. “Oh?”

And then, after several painfully long seconds, you smiled.

Smiled.

“That’s funny,” you murmured, “because I’ve liked you since third year, too.”

Mattheo’s brain broke.

“…You’re kidding.”

You shook your head, biting your lip to suppress a laugh.

And then, without thinking, Mattheo grabbed your face and kissed you.

The moment your lips met, his entire world tilted.

You kissed him back, smiling against his lips, and everything felt right.

When you finally pulled away, Mattheo was breathless, staring at you like you hung the bloody moon.

“Little Loveboy,” you teased.

Mattheo groaned. “Not you, too.”

You just laughed, leaning your head against his shoulder.

And for once, Mattheo didn’t deny it.

[theodorenmyth]

Hello, if requests are still open, can I ask a male!reader who comes from one of the founders' (i think it's how they are call in english) lines/family/house ?

Ignore it if you don't want to write it !

Have a good day !

Legacy of the Raven

Pairings ; Mattheo Riddle x M!Reader

Summary ; As Rowena Ravenclaw's heir, you’re used to expectations and assumptions—except from Mattheo Riddle, who sees the real you. Through sharp banter and shared vulnerabilities, his feelings come to light, leading to a heartfelt confession and a kiss that makes you realize destiny is about connection, not just legacy.

A/n ; enjoy hun!!

Warnings ; none!

Wordcount ; 1k+

The dungeons of Hogwarts always felt like home, with their dim lighting and the faint chill in the air. As a direct descendant of Rowena Ravenclaw, your connection to the castle was palpable. The very walls seemed to hum with recognition whenever you walked through them.

But with that legacy came expectations, ones you bore like an invisible weight. Everyone assumed you were destined for greatness, for power. It was exhausting. The only person who didn’t seem fazed by your lineage was Mattheo Riddle.

“Did you know,” Mattheo began, leaning against the stone pillar in the common room, “that half the school thinks you’re secretly building a huge library 2.0?”

You rolled your eyes, sitting on one of the emerald-green couches. “Let me guess—they also think I keep a pet raven under my bed?”

He smirked, the corner of his mouth quirking up in that infuriatingly attractive way. “I don’t know. Do you?”

“You’d be the first to know if I did,” you shot back.

Mattheo chuckled, dropping into the seat beside you. His proximity sent a jolt through you, though you masked it well. Being around Mattheo was always a strange mix of comfort and chaos. He had a way of disarming you with his humor, yet there was an undeniable intensity in his gaze that often left you speechless.

“Seriously, though,” he continued, “how do you deal with it? The whole ‘descendant of Rowena Ravenclaw’ thing?”

You shrugged, tracing the outline of the raven embroidered on a nearby pillow. “It’s not like I had a choice. People hear the name, and they decide who I am before I even say a word. Either they’re terrified or… weirdly fascinated.”

“And which one am I?” Mattheo asked, his voice softer now.

You glanced at him, meeting his dark eyes. “You? You’re just annoying.”

He grinned, but there was a flicker of something deeper in his expression. “Good. I’d hate to be predictable.”

The two of you sat in comfortable silence for a moment, the crackling fire casting shadows across the room.

“I think it’s kind of cool, though,” Mattheo said suddenly.

“What is?”

“Your legacy. You’re literally connected to the foundation of this place. You’ve got a piece of history running through your veins.”

You snorted. “And what about you? You’re the son of Voldemort. Talk about historical significance.”

Mattheo’s smile faltered, and you instantly regretted your words. “Sorry,” you muttered. “I didn’t mean—”

“It’s fine,” he interrupted, though his voice was tight. “It’s not exactly a legacy I’m proud of.”

You hesitated before reaching out, placing a hand on his arm. “For what it’s worth, you’re nothing like him. And anyone who knows you can see that.”

His gaze softened, and for a brief moment, he looked vulnerable in a way that was rare for him. “Thanks,” he said quietly.

The moment passed, and he was back to his usual self, leaning back with a smirk. “So, what does being a Ravenclaw descendant even get you? Secret passageways? Hidden artifacts? ”

“Ha, ha,” you deadpanned. “Mostly just a lot of awkward conversations and people asking if I can solve somethinh.”

“Can you?”

You raised an eyebrow. “Do you really want to find out?”

Mattheo’s grin widened. “Depends. Are you going to use it to order a snake to bite me?”

You leaned closer, lowering your voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “Maybe.”

He didn’t move away. If anything, he leaned in as well, the space between you shrinking to mere inches. His voice was low when he spoke again. “You’re full of surprises, aren’t you?”

Your heart raced, but before you could respond, the sound of approaching footsteps shattered the moment.

“Oi, Riddle!” Blaise Zabini called as he entered the common room. “You coming to dinner or what?”

Mattheo pulled back, his mask of nonchalance slipping back into place. “Yeah, I’ll be there in a minute,” he replied, his tone casual.

Blaise raised an eyebrow, glancing between the two of you, but didn’t comment. “Don’t take too long. Pansy’s already complaining about the pudding running out.”

As Blaise disappeared, Mattheo turned back to you. “You coming?”

You hesitated, still thrown off by the near-intimacy of the moment. “I think I’ll stay here for a bit.”

Mattheo nodded, standing up. “Suit yourself. But don’t hide down here all night, yeah? Even Ravenclaw descendants need to eat.”

You couldn’t help but smile. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

As he walked away, you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. Mattheo Riddle was a puzzle you weren’t sure you’d ever solve, but you couldn’t deny that you wanted to try.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘₊✧──────✧₊∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

Later that evening, as you wandered the castle’s corridors, you heard a familiar voice calling your name. Turning, you saw Mattheo jogging to catch up with you.

“Thought you were hiding in the dungeons,” he said, falling into step beside you.

“Changed my mind,” you replied.

“Good. I’d hate for you to miss out on all the fun.”

“What fun?”

“This.”

Before you could ask what he meant, he grabbed your hand and pulled you into a nearby alcove. Your back pressed against the cold stone wall as he stood in front of you, his expression unreadable.

“Mattheo, what—”

“You drive me crazy, you know that?” he said, cutting you off.

Your eyes widened. “What are you talking about?”

“You,” he said, his voice low and intense. “You walk around with this whole ‘Ravenclaw heir’ thing, acting like you don’t care, but I see through you. You’re more than that. You’re smart, and stubborn, and you make me want to be better just so I can keep up with you.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but no words came out.

“And the worst part?” he continued, stepping closer. “I can’t stop thinking about you.”

The air between you was electric, and before you could overthink it, Mattheo leaned in, capturing your lips in a kiss that was both fierce and tender.

For a moment, all thoughts of legacies and expectations melted away. There was only him, and the way he fit so perfectly against you.

When he finally pulled back, his dark eyes searched yours. “Say something,” he murmured.

You smiled, your voice barely above a whisper. “You talk too much.”

He laughed, the sound rich and genuine, before pulling you in for another kiss.

For once, being a descendant of Rowena Ravenclaw didn’t feel like a burden. In that moment, it felt like destiny.

[theodorenmyth]

Mattheo with a s/o who literally had a past of fighting a lot 😭. Reader has changed and is more peaceful, but Mattheo figured out that reader was literally worst than him and it makes him question reader about their past.

Shadows of the Past

Pairings ; Mattheo Riddle x GN!Reader

Summary ; You and Mattheo Riddle have grown close, but rumors about your violent past begin to surface, casting a shadow over your budding relationship. As Mattheo confronts you with what he's heard, you reveal the anger and struggles that once defined you, and the person who helped you find peace. Through heartfelt conversations and shared moments, Mattheo seeks to understand the person you once were and the journey you've taken to become who you are now. Together, you navigate the complexities of your past, finding strength in each other's acceptance and love, and forging a bond that is ready to face whatever the future holds.

A/N ; Enjoy! :3

Warnings) ; nothing

Word count ; 1.2k+

The soft glow of the setting sun bathed the Hogwarts grounds in a warm, golden hue as you walked alongside Mattheo Riddle. The two of you had spent the afternoon exploring the quieter corners of the castle, enjoying each other’s company away from the prying eyes of your peers. For once, the conversation had been light, the laughter genuine.

As you reached the edge of the Forbidden Forest, Mattheo suddenly stopped, his expression shifting from relaxed to contemplative. You felt a knot form in your stomach as he turned to face you, his eyes searching yours.

"I've been hearing things," he began, his voice measured. "Things about your past."

Your heart skipped a beat. It was bound to come up sooner or later. "What kind of things?"

He took a deep breath, running a hand through his tousled hair. "People say you were... different. That you used to get into a lot of fights. Worse than me, even."

You sighed, looking away. The memories of your past were not something you liked to dwell on. "Yeah, I did. But that was a long time ago, Mattheo. I’m not that person anymore."

Mattheo studied you for a moment, his dark eyes unreadable. "Why did you fight so much?"

You hesitated, the old wounds threatening to reopen. "It’s complicated. I had a lot of anger back then. I didn’t know how to deal with it, so I fought. It was the only way I knew how to cope."

He nodded slowly, as if piecing together a puzzle. "What changed?"

You took a deep breath, the cool evening air filling your lungs. "I met someone who helped me see that there are other ways to handle things. They taught me how to find peace within myself. How to control my anger instead of letting it control me."

Mattheo’s gaze softened. "And you think you’ve changed?"

"I know I have," you replied firmly. "I’m not proud of who I used to be, but I’ve worked hard to become a better person."

He reached out, taking your hand in his. "I’m not judging you, you know. I just want to understand. It’s part of who you are, and I care about all of you, not just the parts that are easy to love."

You squeezed his hand, feeling a wave of relief wash over you. "Thank you, Mattheo. That means a lot."

There was a moment of silence, the two of you standing together at the edge of the forest. The air was filled with the sounds of nature, the rustling of leaves and the distant call of a bird.

"Tell me more about it," he said finally. "About who you were back then."

You swallowed hard, the memories flooding back. "I was angry at the world. I felt like I had to fight to be seen, to be heard. I didn’t care about the consequences. I just wanted to prove that I was strong, that no one could mess with me."

Mattheo nodded, his expression thoughtful. "And now?"

"Now, I’ve learned that true strength isn’t about how many fights you can win. It’s about having the courage to walk away. To choose peace over violence."

He smiled, a rare, genuine smile that made your heart skip a beat. "I’m proud of you. For changing. For becoming the person you are now."

You felt a tear slip down your cheek, quickly wiping it away. "Thank you. It hasn’t been easy, but it’s worth it."

Mattheo pulled you into a hug, holding you close. "We all have our demons. What matters is how we deal with them. And you, you’ve done something incredible."

You clung to him, feeling a sense of comfort and safety in his embrace. "I just hope you can accept me, past and all."

He pulled back slightly, looking into your eyes. "I do. I always will."

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting the forest in shadows, you felt a weight lift from your shoulders. Mattheo knew the truth now, and he still cared. It was more than you could have hoped for.

"You know," he said with a grin, "I think I’d like to hear some of those stories. Maybe you can teach me a thing or two."

You laughed, the sound echoing through the trees. "Maybe. But only if you promise not to get any ideas."

"Deal," he said, pulling you back into a hug.

Together, you walked back towards the castle, the past no longer a shadow hanging over you but a part of your journey. And with Mattheo by your side, you knew you could face whatever came next.

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

The next few days were a whirlwind of exams, classes, and stolen moments with Mattheo. He had a way of making you feel at ease, his dark humor and sharp wit a constant source of amusement. But there was an underlying curiosity in his eyes, a desire to know more about the person you used to be.

One evening, as you sat by the fireplace in the Slytherin common room, Mattheo broached the subject again. "So, tell me about your most memorable fight."

You rolled your eyes playfully. "Are you sure you want to know?"

"Absolutely," he replied, leaning in closer. "I want to know everything about you."

You took a deep breath, recalling the incident that had marked the turning point in your life. "There was this one time, back in my fourth year. A group of older students thought they could push me around because I was younger. They didn’t expect me to fight back."

Mattheo’s eyes gleamed with interest. "What happened?"

"I ended up breaking one guy’s nose and giving another a black eye and a broken arm," you admitted, a hint of pride in your voice. "But it wasn’t just about the fight. It was what happened afterward that changed everything."

He frowned, intrigued. "What do you mean?"

"I got into a lot of trouble, obviously. Detention for a month, extra assignments, the whole deal. But Professor McGonagall, she took me aside and talked to me. She didn’t just lecture me about fighting. She asked why I was so angry."

Mattheo nodded, his expression thoughtful. "And what did you tell her?"

"I broke down," you confessed. "I told her everything. About how I felt invisible, how I thought fighting was the only way to get people to notice me. She listened, really listened. And then she helped me find a way to channel my anger into something positive."

Mattheo’s grip on your hand tightened. "Sounds like she really made a difference."

"She did," you agreed. "She suggested I take up dueling, but in a controlled environment. It wasn’t about hurting others, but about mastering my skills, my emotions. It helped me find a sense of control and peace."

He smiled, a genuine warmth in his eyes. "I’m glad she did. I can’t imagine Hogwarts without you."

You blushed, feeling a warmth spread through your chest. "Thanks, Mattheo. It means a lot to hear you say that."

He leaned in, his forehead resting against yours. "We all have our battles, our pasts. But what matters is how we move forward. And I’m here with you, no matter what."

You kissed him, a soft, lingering kiss that spoke of promises and unspoken words. When you pulled back, you felt a sense of calm and certainty.

"Thank you," you whispered, your voice barely audible. "For accepting me."

"Always," he murmured, pulling you close.

As the fire crackled and the shadows danced around you, you knew that with Mattheo by your side, you could face whatever the future held. Your past was a part of you, but it didn’t define you. And with him, you felt ready to embrace whatever came next.

[theodorenmyth]

Perfect for You

Pairings ; Mattheo Riddle x M!Reader

Summary ; You are in a relationship with Mattheo Riddle, where your deep-seated insecurities and fear of abandonment lead you to strive for perfection, always putting his needs above your own. As the anxiety and pressure take their toll, Mattheo begins to notice the toll it’s taking on you. Through heartfelt conversations and Mattheo's unwavering support, you start to believe that being yourself is enough for the one you love.

A/N ; this is a codependent!m!reader requested by ANON, I accidentally posted this js a few mins ago and deleted it.

warnings); none

Word count ; 1.1k+

The dimly lit Slytherin common room was abuzz with quiet murmurs and the crackling of the fireplace. You sat in your usual corner, eyes flickering nervously towards the entrance every few seconds. Mattheo was late again, and the familiar gnawing anxiety began to build in your chest.

Ever since you had started dating Mattheo Riddle, you had developed an almost crippling fear of his absence. You always felt like you weren't good enough for him, a sentiment that haunted your every interaction. You tried to be perfect, to be everything he wanted, hoping that if you pleased him enough, he wouldn't leave you.

The door creaked open, and your heart leapt. Mattheo strolled in, his usual confident swagger making him look like he owned the place. His eyes scanned the room until they landed on you. He smiled, but you couldn't help but notice the flicker of annoyance in his eyes. Was he mad at you? Did you do something wrong?

"Hey," Mattheo greeted, plopping down next to you on the couch. "What did I miss?"

"Not much," you replied quickly, forcing a smile. "Just waiting for you."

Mattheo leaned back, stretching his arms. "You always wait for me. Don't you have anything better to do?"

You shook your head, trying to keep your voice steady. "No, I like waiting for you. I like being with you."

Mattheo's gaze softened, and he reached out to brush a stray lock of hair from your forehead. "You're too sweet, you know that?"

You blushed, the warmth of his touch making your anxiety momentarily fade. "I just want to make you happy."

"And you do," he assured you, though his attention was already drifting towards his friends who were calling him over. "Hang on, I'll be right back."

As he walked away, the anxiety returned full force. You watched him laughing and talking with his friends, feeling an intense wave of inadequacy. You always felt like an outsider, like you had to constantly prove your worth to stay by his side.

The minutes dragged on, and your thoughts spiraled. What if he decided he didn't need you anymore? What if he found someone better? The anxiety grew into a suffocating pressure, and you could feel the onset of a panic attack.

You needed to be perfect. You needed to keep him happy. Taking a deep breath, you stood up and made your way to the group. Mattheo glanced at you as you approached, raising an eyebrow.

"Everything okay?" he asked, his tone casual but laced with curiosity.

"Yeah, I just... I wanted to be with you," you said softly, trying to keep the tremor out of your voice.

Mattheo's friends exchanged looks, but Mattheo simply shrugged and pulled you into his side. "Alright then. Everyone, this is my boyfriend, Y/N."

You forced a smile, feeling the scrutiny of his friends' gazes. They all knew how much you adored Mattheo, and you couldn't help but wonder if they thought you were pathetic for it.

"Y/N, you're always so quiet," Pansy commented, her tone teasing but with an edge of truth. "Why don't you ever join in on the fun?"

"I just... I don't want to say anything that might upset anyone," you admitted, glancing nervously at Mattheo.

Mattheo frowned, a hint of frustration in his eyes. "You don't have to worry about that. Just be yourself."

But being yourself felt impossible when you constantly feared losing him. You nodded, trying to relax and join the conversation, but the anxiety remained, a constant companion.

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

Later that night, you lay in Mattheo's bed, his arms wrapped around you. He was asleep, his breathing steady and calm. You, on the other hand, were wide awake, your mind racing with insecurities.

You replayed the day's events, analyzing every word, every look. Had you done enough to make him happy? Had you been perfect? What if he decided you weren't worth the trouble?

A tear slipped down your cheek, and you quickly wiped it away. You couldn't let him see you like this. You couldn't let him know how much you struggled, how much you hurt. You had to be strong, for him.

In the dim light, you turned to look at Mattheo's peaceful face. He was everything to you, and you would do anything to keep him happy, even if it meant sacrificing your own well-being.

"Matty," you whispered, your voice trembling. "I love you so much. I hope I'm enough for you."

He stirred in his sleep, mumbling something unintelligible, but didn't wake up. You sighed, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead.

The next morning, you woke up to Mattheo's fingers tracing patterns on your back. You smiled sleepily, the anxiety momentarily forgotten in the warmth of his embrace.

"Morning," he murmured, his voice husky with sleep.

"Morning," you replied, nuzzling closer to him.

He studied you for a moment, his expression thoughtful. "You seemed off yesterday. Is everything okay?"

You hesitated, not wanting to burden him with your fears. "Yeah, just tired, I guess."

Mattheo's eyes narrowed slightly. "You sure? You know you can talk to me, right?"

"I know," you lied, forcing a smile. "I'm fine, really."

He didn't look convinced, but he didn't push further. Instead, he pulled you closer, pressing a kiss to your temple. "I love you, Y/N."

"I love you too," you whispered, your heart aching with the sincerity of your words.

As the days went on, you continued to put Mattheo's needs above your own, bending over backward to keep him happy. You didn't complain, didn't voice your own struggles, because you were terrified of losing him. You tried to be perfect, to be everything he wanted, but the pressure was slowly breaking you.

One evening, as you sat together in the common room, Mattheo noticed the dark circles under your eyes, the way your hands trembled slightly.

"Y/N, you need to take care of yourself," he said, his voice gentle but firm. "I don't want you to hurt yourself trying to please me."

"But I want to make you happy," you protested, your voice cracking. "I can't lose you, Mattheo. I need you."

Mattheo's eyes softened, and he cupped your face in his hands. "And I need you, but not like this. I love you for who you are, not for some perfect version of you. Please, just be yourself."

Tears welled up in your eyes, and you finally let them fall, the weight of your insecurities crashing down on you. "I'm so scared, Mattheo. I'm scared I'm not good enough for you."

"You're more than enough," he whispered, pulling you into a tight embrace. "You don't have to be perfect. I love you just the way you are."

In that moment, wrapped in his arms, you allowed yourself to believe him. You allowed yourself to hope that maybe, just maybe, you were enough.

The road to healing wouldn't be easy, and the anxiety wouldn't disappear overnight, but with Mattheo by your side, you felt a glimmer of hope. For the first time, you began to believe that you could be loved for who you truly were, and that was a start.

[theodorenmyth]

Mattheo who has an introverted! Boyfriend, but when r is drunk they turn into a different person who is bold asf to just say shit and mattheo is just like “holy shit”

Bold Booze

Pairings ; Mattheo Riddle x M!Reader

Summary ; At a Slytherin party, you watch from the sidelines as Mattheo Riddle enjoys the festivities. When he convinces you to try firewhisky, the alcohol unlocks a bold side of you, leading to teasing and passionate moments with Mattheo. The night is filled with intense desire and stolen touches, and by morning, you wake up with the aftermath of your fiery escapades. Reflecting on the unexpected boldness from the firewhisky, you realize it's a night Mattheo will relish and remind you of for a long time.

A/N ; I LAV LAVVV THIS REWUEST 😻😻😻

warnings); slight smut, mentions of alcohol, bite marks

Word count ; 1k

You sit quietly in the corner of the Slytherin common room, nursing a butterbeer and observing the raucous party around you. Your boyfriend, Mattheo Riddle, is the center of attention as always, laughing and talking with his friends. You don’t mind, really. The noise and chaos of the party are a bit overwhelming, and you’re content to stay in your little corner, watching Mattheo from afar.

He catches your eye and smiles, making his way over to you. “Hey, love. Why don’t you join us?”

You shake your head, smiling shyly. “I’m good here, Mattheo.”

Mattheo sits beside you, his dark eyes twinkling mischievously. “How about a drink? Something stronger than butterbeer?”

You hesitate, but the warm, inviting look in his eyes makes you relent. “Alright, one drink.”

Mattheo returns with two glasses of firewhisky, handing one to you. “Cheers,” he says, clinking his glass against yours.

You take a tentative sip, the liquid burning its way down your throat. You cough slightly, but Mattheo’s encouraging smile makes you take another sip. Before long, the glass is empty, and Mattheo hands you another.

As the firewhisky works its way through your system, you start to feel more relaxed. The noise of the party fades into the background, and a new, bold feeling rises within you. You catch Mattheo’s eye, a smirk tugging at your lips.

“Matty,” you say, your voice low and husky. “Come here.”

Mattheo raises an eyebrow, intrigued by your sudden change in demeanor. He leans in, and you whisper in his ear, “You have no idea how badly I want you right now.”

His eyes widen in surprise, a flush creeping up his neck. “Y/N, are you drunk?”

“Maybe,” you reply with a mischievous grin. “But that doesn’t change the fact that you’re driving me crazy.”

Mattheo chuckles, his hand resting on your thigh. “You’re full of surprises tonight.”

You lean closer, your lips brushing against his ear. “You haven’t seen anything yet.”

Mattheo’s eyes darken with desire, but he tries to maintain his composure. “Maybe we should get you some water.”

You shake your head, placing a hand on his chest to stop him. “I don’t want water. I want you.”

He looks around, noting the curious glances from his friends. “You’re going to make a scene, love.”

You smirk, enjoying the way his breath hitches as you trail your fingers up his chest. “Isn’t that what you like? Being the center of attention?”

Mattheo bites his lip, clearly torn between his desire and his need to keep up appearances. “You’re playing a dangerous game, Y/N.”

You lean in, your lips brushing against his. “I like living dangerously.”

The rest of the night is a blur of teasing whispers and stolen touches. You can see the effect you’re having on Mattheo, the way his breath hitches and his eyes darken with desire. You revel in it, pushing the boundaries further with each passing minute.

“Matty,” you purr, your lips ghosting over his neck. “Let’s get out of here.”

He doesn’t need to be told twice. Mattheo grabs your hand, practically dragging you up the stairs to his dormitory. As soon as the door closes behind you, his lips are on yours, hungry and demanding. You respond with equal fervor, your hands roaming over his body, tugging at his clothes. “I need you,” you whisper against his lips. “Now.”

Mattheo growls low in his throat, lifting you and tossing you onto the bed. “You’re going to regret teasing me all night,” he murmurs, his voice rough with desire.

You shiver at his words, anticipation coursing through you. “I doubt that,” you challenge, your eyes glinting with mischief.

The night continues with an intensity you’ve never experienced before. Mattheo’s hands and lips explore every inch of your body, and you respond with equal fervor. The boundaries between you blur, and all that exists is the fire between you, burning hotter and brighter with every touch, every kiss, every whispered word.

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

You wake up the next morning with a pounding headache and a multitude of aches and pains. Your back is sore, and your skin is marked with hickeys, bite marks, and bruises. You groan, burying your face in the pillow as memories of the previous night flood back.

Mattheo is already awake, leaning against the headboard with a smug grin on his face. “Good morning, love.”

You glare at him, though it lacks any real heat. “Morning.”

He chuckles, brushing a hand through your hair. “You were practically screaming my name last night.”

You blush furiously, pulling the blanket over your head. “Oh, fuck off. Don’t remind me.”

Mattheo laughs, pulling the blanket away and leaning down to kiss you. “You were so cute, begging for my touch.”

You groan again, hiding your face in your hands. “Ugh, I can’t believe I did that.”

Mattheo nips at your ear, his voice a teasing whisper. “I loved every second of it. And so did you.”

Despite your embarrassment, you can’t help the smile that tugs at your lips. “Maybe I did.”

Mattheo’s grin widens, and he pulls you into his arms, holding you close. “Good. Because I plan on making you scream my name again very soon.”

You laugh, resting your head against his chest. “I’m not sure my back can handle it.”

He smirks, his hand tracing patterns on your skin. “I’ll go easy on you next time. Maybe.”

You roll your eyes, but the fondness in your gaze is unmistakable. “You’re impossible.”

“And you love it,” Mattheo replies, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

You sigh, content despite the lingering aches and pains. “Yeah, I do.”

Mattheo’s arms tighten around you, and you know that despite the teasing, he cares for you deeply. As you drift back to sleep, you can’t help but feel grateful for the unexpected boldness that the firewhisky brought out in you. It’s a night you’ll never forget, and one you’re sure Mattheo won’t let you live down anytime soon.

[theodorenmyth]

Funny little fluff thing where Reader and mattheo are play fighting, like reader grabbed a clump of mattheo’s hair while Mattheo had grabbed reader’s shirt. 😭it’s a funny sight as a student, perhaps a friend of either mattheo’s or reader sees them and walks out slowly backwards cause reader and Mattheo are in a weird position while play fighting. Reader is flustered as they know what the student was thinking and tries to explain their self while Mattheo attacked them with a—

🎊TICKLE ATTACKK🎊

-🧚🏾‍♀️

im so sorry if i dont post often anymore!! im currently sick rn and ill try my best to upload 1 more fanfic today! :(

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

Playful Duel

Pairings : Mattheo Riddle x GN! Reader

Summary : In the Slytherin common room, you find yourself in a playful scuffle with Mattheo Riddle, a notorious troublemaker. As things escalate, a friend interrupts, misinterpreting the situation, leaving you flustered. But when Mattheo unleashes a tickle attack, laughter ensues, revealing the true bond between you both.

A/n : Enjoy (⁠・⁠∀⁠・⁠)

Warnings) : Nothing!

Word count : 900+

The Slytherin common room is unusually empty for a Thursday afternoon. Most students are outside enjoying the rare spell of good weather or tucked away in the library studying for upcoming exams. You and Mattheo Riddle, however, have decided to spend your free time engaging in your usual antics.

"Give it back, Mattheo!" you shout, making a desperate grab for the book he's holding above his head.

Mattheo laughs, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Come and get it, if you can!" he taunts, holding the book just out of your reach.

With a determined huff, you lunge at him, but he sidesteps easily. You narrowly avoid crashing into a nearby table, spinning around to face him again. Your eyes narrow, and you see his smirk widen, knowing he's enjoying this far too much.

You take a moment to catch your breath, then launch yourself at him again. This time, you're ready for his dodge. You feint to the right, then dart left, your fingers tangling in his hair as you try to pull him down to your level.

"Ow! That hurt, you little—" he begins, but you're already yanking hard.

"Give. Me. My. Book!" you demand, punctuating each word with a tug on his hair.

Mattheo growls playfully, his free hand grabbing the front of your shirt. "Not a chance!"

The two of you grapple, neither willing to give an inch. You have his hair firmly in your grasp, while he clings to your shirt, the fabric stretching precariously. You twist and turn, struggling against each other in a comical display of youthful exuberance.

Before you can react, Mattheo lunges at you, and you barely dodge out of the way, laughter bubbling up in your throat. The two of you end up in a tangled heap on the floor, each trying to gain the upper hand. You grab a clump of his hair in a desperate attempt to gain control, while he retaliates by grabbing the hem of your shirt, pulling you closer.

It’s a ridiculous sight: you with a fistful of his dark curls, and him with his hand twisted in your shirt, both of you struggling not to burst into laughter. Just then, the door to the common room opens, and one of your friends, Alex, steps in. He froze, eyes wide as he take in the scene.

“Oh, um, sorry,” Alex stammers, his cheeks turning red as he start to back out of the room. “I didn’t mean to interrupt… whatever this is.”

You quickly release Mattheo’s hair, your face heating up. “It’s not what it looks like!” you blurt out, scrambling to your feet. “We were just—”

Before you can finish your explanation, Mattheo, still on the floor, reaches out and grabs your ankle, pulling you back down with a yelp. “We were just having a bit of fun,” he says, a wicked grin spreading across his face. “Right, Y/N?”

You shoot him a glare, but it’s hard to keep a straight face when he’s looking at you like that. “Yeah, just some innocent fun,” you agree, though your tone is dripping with sarcasm.

Alex raises an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. “Sure,” he said slowly, taking another step back. “I’ll just… leave you to it then.”

As soon as Alex is out of sight, you turn to Mattheo, your cheeks still burning. “Great, now he thinks we’re… you know!”

Mattheo just laughs, pulling you into a ticklish embrace. “Let him think what him wants,” he says, his fingers finding that spot just below your ribs that makes you squirm. “We know the truth.”

You squeal, trying to wriggle out of his grasp, but he’s relentless. “Mattheo, stop!” you gasp, tears of laughter streaming down your face. “I can’t breathe!”

“Not until you admit defeat!” he declares, his own laughter mingling with yours.

“Fine, fine!” you manage to choke out between giggles. “I admit it! You win!”

With a triumphant grin, Mattheo finally releases you, and you collapse onto the floor, panting. “You’re impossible,” you mutter, but there’s no heat in your words.

“And you love it,” he replies cheekily, offering you a hand to help you up.

You take his hand, letting him pull you to your feet. “Yeah, yeah,” you say, brushing yourself off. “Next time, I’ll be the one who wins.”

“We’ll see about that,” he teases, ruffling your hair before grabbing his book and settling back onto the sofa.

You flop down next to him, still catching your breath. “You’re really something, you know that?”

He just smirks, flipping open his book. “I know.”

The two of you sit in companionable silence for a while, the crackling fire the only sound in the room. Despite the chaos of a few moments ago, there’s a sense of peace that settles over you. You glance at Mattheo, who’s completely absorbed in his book once again, and you can’t help but smile.

Maybe your little rivalry isn’t so bad after all.

“Hey, Mattheo,” you say softly, breaking the silence.

“Yeah?” he replies, not looking up.

“Thanks. For… you know, being you.”

He glances at you, one eyebrow raised. “What brought this on?”

You shrug, feeling a bit self-conscious. “Just… felt like saying it.”

He smiles, a genuine, warm smile that makes your heart skip a beat. “Anytime, Y/N. Anytime.”

You lean back, closing your eyes and letting the warmth of the fire and the sound of Mattheo’s quiet breathing lull you into a state of relaxation. In the back of your mind, you’re already planning your next playful attack. But for now, you’re content to just be here, in this moment, with him.

[theodorenmyth]

Part 2 on the Hunter eyes? Idk if you got request a part 2 but I found the Hunter eyes with mattheo very alluring since Hunter eyes are very attractive. Especially with glasses

Failed Persuasion

Pairings ; Mattheo Riddle x M!Reader

Summary ; In a modern office setting, Mattheo Riddle has just become the new boss, and you, his ambitious employee, approach him seeking a bonus. Confidently trying to persuade him, you flirt subtly, hoping it’ll work in your favor. However, things take a turn when Mattheo pulls you onto his lap, teasing and whispering in your ear, flustering you completely. He makes it clear that bonuses aren’t just given—they’re earned—and hints that if you stay and fulfill his desires, you’ll get what you want. The power dynamic shifts as Mattheo takes control, leaving you with no choice but to agree.

A/n ; enjoy hun!!

Warnings ; slight nsfw, persuasion, reader being a tease to Matty, lap-sitting, boss!mattheo

Wordcount ; 1.2k+

The office buzzed with the steady hum of voices, phones ringing in the distance, and the faint tap of keyboards. You sat at your desk, eyes scanning over the reports in front of you. The promotion of Mattheo Riddle to the head of the company had sent waves through the office. The man was practically a legend in his family, both feared and respected. He hadn’t been in charge long, but you’d already seen him make a mark.

You stretched in your chair, loosening your tie. Mattheo was in his office right now, probably reviewing numbers, or plotting his next move. You had an idea, though. You needed a bonus, and you weren’t shy about using a bit of persuasion to get what you wanted. The two of you had shared plenty of lingering looks over the years, subtle flirtations, but you never acted on them—until now.

Grinning to yourself, you pushed away from your desk and made your way to his office. A few heads turned as you walked, but you were focused, your mind already playing out how this conversation would go.

Reaching his office door, you gave it a sharp knock.

“Come in,” Mattheo’s deep voice called from inside.

Taking a breath, you pushed the door open and stepped inside. Mattheo was sitting at his desk, his dark eyes flicking up to meet yours. He leaned back in his chair, his hands resting on the armrests, and there was a glint of curiosity in his gaze.

“Busy?” you asked casually, closing the door behind you.

Mattheo raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “Depends on what you want.”

You stepped forward, moving confidently, though your heart beat faster. “I was thinking we could have a little chat.”

Mattheo’s smirk widened, but he didn’t say anything, just gestured for you to continue.

You leaned against the edge of his desk, crossing your arms. “I’ve been doing good work for you, haven’t I? Thought maybe it’s time for a bonus. I mean, the company’s thriving, and I’d say I’ve had a hand in that.”

Mattheo watched you closely, his expression unreadable. “A bonus, huh?”

“Yeah,” you replied, leaning in just a little, your voice taking on a persuasive edge. “I think it’s fair.”

For a moment, it seemed like it might work. Mattheo’s eyes flickered with something you couldn’t quite read, and then he leaned forward, placing his hands on the desk. “You think I’m just going to hand you a bonus because you ask nicely?”

Your confidence faltered for a split second, but you held your ground, flashing a charming smile. “You know I’ve earned it, Mattheo.”

He stood suddenly, towering over you. Before you could react, his hands were on your waist, pulling you around the desk and into his lap. Your breath caught in your throat, heart pounding as you found yourself sitting on him, face inches from his. His grip was firm, his dark eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that sent heat flooding through you.

“You think that’s how it works?” he murmured, his voice low and dangerous, sending shivers down your spine.

“I—” you start, but your words get caught in your throat as he tightens his grip slightly, his thumb brushing your side in a way that makes you shiver.

His tone is teasing, but there’s an edge to it that makes your stomach flip. You try to speak again, but Mattheo shifts his position, his arm wrapping around your waist to pull you even closer. His other hand rests on your thigh, the heat of his palm seeping through the fabric of your pants.

“Let me tell you something,” he whispers, his voice low and rough, making it impossible for you to focus on anything else. “I’m the boss now. You don’t get a damn thing unless I want you to have it.”

Your breath hitches, and you can’t help the way your body reacts. Every nerve feels like it’s on fire, and Mattheo knows it. You can feel his smirk against your ear, his amusement palpable as he leans back slightly, giving you just enough space to meet his eyes.

He looks thoroughly entertained, his dark eyes glinting with something dangerous and teasing. “You’re not very good at hiding how flustered you are.”

You swallow hard, trying to gather your thoughts, but it’s impossible with Mattheo’s hands on you, with the weight of his gaze burning into you.

“Mattheo...” you start again, your voice unsteady, but he cuts you off.

“What’s the matter? Cat got your tongue?” He tilts his head slightly, his smirk growing as his hand squeezes your thigh lightly. “You walked in here so confidently, ready to get what you want. What happened?”

“You think I didn’t see this coming?” he murmurs, his lips so close to your ear that it sends a shiver down your spine. “Walking in here, trying to sweet-talk me into giving you what you want?”

Mattheo’s lips twitched, and he leaned in closer, his breath brushing against your ear. “You’ve always been ambitious, haven’t you?” he whispered, his voice like velvet. “Always pushing, always trying to get ahead.” His lips barely grazed your skin as he spoke, and you felt a shiver run down your spine.

Your hands rested on his shoulders, but you were quickly losing your composure, his proximity making it harder to think straight. “I just… thought it would be mutually beneficial,” you managed, your voice coming out weaker than you intended.

Mattheo chuckled softly, the sound vibrating through his chest. “Oh, I bet you did,” he whispered, his breath hot against your ear. “But let me tell you something…” He paused, his lips grazing the shell of your ear, sending your pulse racing. “You don’t just ask for a bonus. You earn it.”

Your breath hitched, and before you could respond, his hand slid up your thigh, his fingers ghosting over your skin through your pants. The room felt too warm, too intimate, and you were painfully aware of every inch of his body pressed against yours.

“M-Mattheo…” you stammered, trying to keep control, but the way he touched you, the way he whispered in your ear, was making your head spin.

“Shh,” he murmured, his voice dangerously low. “You’ve been working hard, haven’t you?” His hand moved higher, his grip tightening slightly as he smirked against your ear. “Maybe I could give you a reward, but it’s going to cost you.”

You swallowed hard, your hands gripping his shoulders tighter. “Cost me… how?”

Mattheo chuckled again, his lips now trailing down the side of your neck. “Oh, I think you know,” he whispered, his voice sending another shiver through your body. “I could give you that bonus… but only if you stay.”

Your body tensed at the implication, and you couldn’t deny the thrill running through you. His fingers tightened on your waist, and his lips lingered just below your jaw. “Stay,” he whispered again, his voice so quiet it was almost a growl. “And I’ll make sure you get what you want.”

Heat flushed your cheeks, and your mind raced, but deep down, you already knew your answer. The power dynamic between you had shifted, and Mattheo had you exactly where he wanted.

“Fine,” you breathed out, your voice shaking slightly. “I’ll stay.”

Mattheo pulled back slightly, his dark eyes gleaming with satisfaction. “Good,” he murmured, his fingers gently tracing patterns on your thigh. “Now, let’s discuss exactly what I’ll be getting in return for that bonus of yours.”

Your heart pounded in your chest, and you bit your lip, knowing that this conversation was about to take a turn you wouldn’t be forgetting anytime soon.

[theodorenmyth]

Okay…so like protective mattheo having a s/o who is non-confrontational. Like literally reader always talks it out in a very civil way whenever a student tries to fight him when literally mattheo is the opposite. So one day Mattheo is waiting for his boyfriend by their signature place to chill when he sees students running to an area. Cutting to the chase, students surrounded a student that challenge reader to a dual/fight and reader is just like “uhm fuck no??” It ends with the student harming reader and mattheo just going rabid

-🧚🏾‍♀️anon

　　　Defender's Fury

Pairings : Mattheo Riddle x M! Reader Summary : In the serene confines of Hogwarts, where peace often reigns, a sudden confrontation shatters your tranquility. When Marcus Flint's aggression escalates into violence, your pacifist principles clash with Mattheo's protective instincts. As Marcus's fists find their mark, you refuse to retaliate, until Mattheo intervenes with a ferocity that threatens to overshadow everything. Amidst the chaos, you both navigate the aftermath, grappling with the consequences of his actions and the depths of his unwavering devotion. Together, you discover that even in the face of conflict, love and strength can forge an unbreakable bond. A/n : Enjoy (⁠・⁠∀⁠・⁠) Warnings) : mentions of assault, beating up, acts of violence Word count : 1k+

You were never one for conflict. While others might see confrontation as a necessary part of life, you always believed that most problems could be solved with a calm discussion and a level head. Your boyfriend, Mattheo, was the exact opposite. He was fiery, quick to defend and never one to back down from a fight. It was a balance that worked surprisingly well for both of you—until the day it didn’t.

It was a crisp autumn afternoon, the golden leaves swirling around the grounds of Hogwarts as you made your way to your usual spot. Mattheo was waiting for you at your favorite place by the lake, a secluded nook surrounded by ancient trees that offered privacy and a sense of tranquility. You could already see his familiar figure leaning against the tree, but something in the distance caught your eye.

A crowd of students was gathering near the edge of the Forbidden Forest, their excited murmurs growing louder as more joined. Curiosity piqued, you changed direction and headed towards the commotion. As you got closer, you saw the source of the crowd’s interest: a heated argument between two students, one of whom was unmistakably aiming his aggression at you.

“Hey, there he is!” shouted Marcus Flint, a notorious troublemaker from Slytherin and the captain of the Slytherin Quidditch Team. He pointed at you with a sneer. “Think you’re so smart, always talking your way out of things, don’t you?”

You sighed internally. “Flint, whatever this is about, I’m sure we can discuss it rationally. There’s no need for a scene.”

“A scene?” Marcus laughed, a sound devoid of any humor. “Oh, there’s going to be a scene, alright. I challenge you to a duel!”

Your heart sank. Duels were messy, unpredictable, and entirely against your nature. “I’m not interested in dueling, Flint. Let’s just talk this out.”

“Too scared to fight, huh?” Marcus taunted, stepping closer. The circle of students tightened around you, their eyes gleaming with anticipation.

“No, not scared. It’s just pointless,” you replied, trying to keep your voice steady. “We’re not solving anything by fighting.”

Marcus’s eyes narrowed. “Coward,” he spat. “You’re a disgrace.”

The words stung, but you stood your ground. “Think what you want, Marcus. I’m not fighting you.”

The students around you began to murmur, some of them jeering at you for backing down. The pressure was mounting, but you refused to be drawn into violence. You turned to leave, hoping to dissolve the crowd by walking away, but Marcus grabbed your arm, yanking you back.

“Don’t turn your back on me!” he snarled.

“Let go, Flint,” you said firmly, pulling your arm free. “This is childish.”

Without warning, Marcus’s fist flew towards you, and pain exploded in your cheek as he struck you. You stumbled back, the taste of blood filling your mouth. The crowd gasped, a mixture of shock and excitement rippling through them.

“What the fuck!?” you shouted, holding your cheek. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

But Marcus wasn’t done. He lunged at you again, and this time, you couldn’t dodge in time. His fist collided with your stomach, and you doubled over in pain, collapsing to the ground. The students around you cheered and jeered, feeding off the violence.

“Stop it!” you gasped, clutching your stomach. “Just… stop.”

Before Marcus could strike again, a furious roar cut through the air. “Get away from him!”

Mattheo’s voice was like a thunderclap, silencing the crowd instantly. He pushed through the circle of students, his eyes blazing with rage. He took in the sight of you on the ground, bleeding and in pain, and something snapped inside him.

“You’re dead, Flint,” Mattheo growled, launching himself at Marcus with a ferocity that took everyone by surprise. He tackled Marcus to the ground, fists flying in a blur of fury. “How dare you touch him!”

Marcus tried to fight back, but he was no match for Mattheo’s wrath. Blow after blow landed, and the crowd quickly realized this wasn’t a fight—they were witnessing a brutal punishment. Several students ran to get a professor, while others watched in stunned silence.

“Mattheo, stop!” you called out, struggling to your feet. “You’ll get expelled!”

But Mattheo was beyond hearing. His protective instincts had taken over completely. He only stopped when two professors arrived, pulling him off a bloodied and groaning Marcus.

“Enough, Riddle!” Professor McGonagall shouted, her stern voice cutting through the chaos. “What is the meaning of this?”

“He attacked my boyfriend,” Mattheo spat, his chest heaving with anger. “I was defending him.”

Professor McGonagall’s eyes softened slightly as she looked at you, still clutching your stomach and wincing in pain. “Mr. Flint, Mr. L/N, and Mr. Riddle, to the hospital wing, now. We’ll discuss this further once you’ve been seen to.”

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

The walk to the hospital wing was tense, but Mattheo never left your side, his hand gripping yours tightly. Once Madam Pomfrey had treated your injuries and ensured you were comfortable, she allowed Mattheo to stay with you while she attended to Marcus in another room.

“Are you okay?” Mattheo asked quietly, his anger replaced by concern. “I’m so sorry I wasn’t there sooner.”

“I’ll be fine,” you assured him, squeezing his hand. “But Mattheo, you didn’t have to go that far. You could get into serious trouble.”

He looked down, his expression torn. “I couldn’t just stand by and let him hurt you. I won’t let anyone hurt you.”

You sighed, understanding his fierce protectiveness but wishing things had turned out differently. “I appreciate it, really. But we need to find a better way to handle this. Violence only leads to more trouble.”

Mattheo nodded reluctantly. “I know. I just… I can’t stand seeing you in pain.”

You reached up to touch his cheek gently. “We’ll figure it out together. Just promise me you won’t get yourself expelled over me.”

He leaned into your touch, his eyes softening. “I promise. But if anyone ever tries to hurt you again, they’ll have to go through me first.”

You smiled, despite the pain, and pulled him into a gentle kiss. “Deal. Now, let’s get through this mess together.”

As you lay there, Mattheo’s protective presence by your side, you felt a sense of safety despite the chaos. Together, you could face anything, even the turbulent world of Hogwarts.

[theodorenmyth]

Werewolf mattheo who’s very territorial over his Gryffindor mate. Like he just puts his scent on everything, even on their body. Some Gryffindors are scared of reader because of how Mattheo basically claimed them without doing anything extreme “yet”

Territorial Love

Pairings : Mattheo Riddle x GN! Reader

Summary : As Mattheo Riddle's mate, you experience his possessive nature firsthand. Despite his overwhelming protectiveness, your love for each other remains strong. When a Ravenclaw boy gets too close, Mattheo can't help but intervene, leading to a heated confrontation and an intimate moment of reassurance. The marks he leaves are impossible to hide, causing a stir among your friends. But through it all, Mattheo's devotion never wavers, and you find comfort in the powerful bond you share.

A/n : Enjoy (⁠・⁠∀⁠・⁠)

Warnings) : obsession, slight smut, claiming, possessive behaviour, suggestive

Word count : 1.4k+

The Great Hall was bustling with the usual lunch hour chatter, and you sat at the Gryffindor table, your laughter mingling with the voices of your housemates. Harry, Hermione, and Ron were discussing their next plan to outwit Professor Snape, but your attention was divided. Across the room, Mattheo Riddle sat surrounded by his Slytherin friends—Theodore Nott, Draco Malfoy, Lorenzo Berkshire, Pansy Parkinson, and Astoria Greengrass. His eyes were on you, as they often were, a possessive glint in their depths.

Being Mattheo Riddle's mate was not what you had expected. You had heard the rumors about werewolves and their territorial nature, but experiencing it firsthand was another matter entirely. Mattheo was more protective than anyone you had ever met, and it sometimes felt overwhelming. You had learned to recognize the signs: the way he would subtly mark you with his scent, how his eyes would darken when another student got too close, and the low growl that would rumble in his chest when he felt threatened.

Today was no different. You were chatting with a Ravenclaw boy, discussing the latest Potions assignment, when you felt Mattheo's eyes boring into you. The boy, oblivious to the silent warning, stepped closer, his laughter ringing out a bit too loudly for Mattheo's liking.

"Where’s he going?" Theodore asked, his brow furrowing as he watched Mattheo abruptly stand up.

"Probably to deal with something—or someone," Draco said with a smirk, watching Mattheo's retreating form with amusement.

You glanced up just in time to see Mattheo making his way towards you, his expression dark. The Ravenclaw boy took a step back, his smile faltering as he noticed the approaching Slytherin.

"Mattheo," you greeted, trying to keep your voice calm. "We were just discussing—"

"Doesn't matter," Mattheo interrupted, his gaze fixed on the Ravenclaw. "I need to talk to you. Now."

The boy stammered an excuse and hurried off, leaving you alone with Mattheo in the hallway. You sighed, knowing what was coming.

"Mattheo, you can't keep doing this," you said softly, touching his arm. "He was just a friend."

"Just a friend?" Mattheo repeated, his eyes flashing with anger. "He was too close to you. I won't have anyone else near you like that."

You opened your mouth to argue, but Mattheo silenced you with a fierce kiss, his lips claiming yours with a desperation that took your breath away. When he finally pulled back, his eyes were wild, his breathing ragged.

"You're mine," he growled. "And I won't let anyone forget it."

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

The rest of the day passed in a blur, and by the time you reached the Slytherin dormitory that evening, you were exhausted. Mattheo had insisted on walking you back, his arm possessively around your shoulders. You tried to reassure him, but he wasn't listening.

"Mattheo, you have to trust me," you pleaded as he closed the door behind you. "I won't ever leave you."

He didn't respond with words. Instead, he pulled you close, his hands roaming over your body with a desperate need. He kissed you again, this time with a tenderness that made your heart ache. His lips trailed down your neck, and you gasped as you felt his teeth graze your skin.

"Mattheo, wait—" you started, but he silenced you with another kiss, his hands working to unbutton your shirt. His mouth moved lower, sucking and licking at your collarbone, leaving marks that would be impossible to hide.

He bit down gently, just enough to leave a bruise, and you moaned, your hands tangling in his hair. Mattheo's touch was everywhere, worshipping your body with a reverence that made you feel cherished and loved. He whispered your name between kisses, his voice hoarse with emotion.

"Mine," he repeated, his hands gripping your hips. "You're mine, and no one else's."

His hands traveled to your backside, caressing the skin of your back and sending shivers down your spine. He took his time, savoring every touch, every kiss. You could feel his love and possessiveness in each movement, his need to claim you as his own. He kissed a trail down your chest, stopping to suckle at your skin, leaving more marks that would undoubtedly be seen by everyone.

Mattheo's hands were gentle yet firm, holding you close as if you might slip away. He lifted you effortlessly, guiding you to the bed. You gasped as he pinned you beneath him, his body warm and solid against yours. He kissed you deeply, his tongue exploring your mouth with a fervor that made your head spin.

"Mattheo," you whispered against his lips, your voice trembling with emotion. "I love you."

His eyes softened, and he kissed you again, this time more tenderly. "I love you too," he murmured. "More than anything."

He continued his ministrations, his hands and lips never stopping their worship of your body. He nipped at your neck, licked at the marks he had left, and soothed the bites with gentle kisses. His touch was intoxicating, making you feel like you were the center of his universe.

"You're mine," he repeated, his voice a low growl that sent a thrill through you. "And I won't let anyone forget it."

You arched into his touch, your body responding to his every caress. Mattheo's hands roamed lower, squeezing your hips and trailing down your thighs. He worshipped every inch of you, his love and possessiveness evident in each touch, each kiss.

When he finally pulled back, you were both breathing hard, your bodies pressed together. Mattheo kissed you again, softly this time, his lips lingering on yours.

"I love you," he whispered. "I can't lose you."

"You won't," you promised, holding him close. "I'm yours, Mattheo. Always."

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

Dinner in the Great Hall was a different experience altogether. You had managed to cover most of the marks with a high collar, but the ones on your neck were impossible to hide. The Golden Trio noticed immediately.

"Y/N, what happened to your neck?" Hermione asked, her eyes wide with concern.

"Yeah, those look like—" Ron started, but Harry elbowed him, giving you a knowing look.

"It's nothing," you said quickly, trying to brush it off. "Just an accident."

"An accident?" Hermione repeated, her brow furrowing. "Y/N, those look like—"

"Bloody hell, Y/N," Ron interrupted, his eyes wide with a mix of shock and curiosity. "Those look like bite marks! Did something attack you? What happened? Did you fall into a werewolf den or something?"

"It's not that," you said quickly, feeling your cheeks heat up. "It's really nothing, Ron."

"Bloody hell," Ron repeated, shaking his head in disbelief. "Does Mattheo know about this? What did he say? Did he do this to you? Is he...?"

"Hey, leave it," Harry interrupted, giving you a sympathetic smile. "If Y/N says it's nothing, it's nothing."

You were grateful for Harry's intervention, but you could feel their eyes on you throughout the meal. Mattheo, sitting at the Slytherin table with his friends, looked like the picture of innocence, but you knew better. He glanced over at you, a satisfied smirk playing on his lips.

"What's up with Y/N's neck?" Theodore asked, leaning in to whisper to Mattheo.

"Nothing you need to worry about," Mattheo replied, his eyes never leaving yours. "Just a reminder of who they belong to."

Lorenzo chuckled, shaking his head. "You really are territorial, aren't you?"

"Can you blame me?" Mattheo said, his tone possessive. "Y/N is mine, and I won't let anyone forget it."

You caught his eye and smiled, feeling a warmth spread through you. Despite everything, you knew Mattheo's protectiveness came from a place of love. And as overwhelming as it could be, you wouldn't trade it for anything.

After dinner, you met up with Mattheo in a secluded part of the castle. He pulled you into his arms, kissing you deeply.

"Did anyone give you trouble about the marks?" he asked, his hands tracing over the bruises he had left.

"Just the usual questions," you replied, leaning into his touch. "But it's fine. I told them it was nothing."

"Good," he murmured, his lips brushing against your ear. "Because you're mine, and I don't want anyone getting the wrong idea."

"I know," you whispered, your heart swelling with love. "And I wouldn't have it any other way."

Mattheo's kisses were softer this time, his touch gentle as he held you close. In that moment, you knew that no matter what happened, you would always be his. And he would always be yours.

Together, you faced the world, knowing that nothing could come between you. Because in the end, love was the most powerful magic of all.

[theodorenmyth]

Kinda like the curly haired reader x mattheo, but what if reader had gum stuck to his hair on accident and mattheo is like “HOW TF DID THIS HAPPEN??” So reader has to cut his hair and mattheo is dramatically being dramatic as he tries to stop reader who clearly has scissors in his hand. Maybe Tom has to hold mattheo back so reader doesn’t accidentally stab himself?

Tangled Emotions

Pairings : Mattheo Riddle x M! Reader

Summary : When an unfortunate accident leaves you with gum stuck in your beloved curly hair, you decide to take drastic measures to fix it. However, Mattheo, your overly dramatic and deeply caring friend, has other ideas. With Tom trying to keep the peace and Mattheo's desperate attempts to save your hair, chaos ensues. As you navigate the mishap, you discover that Mattheo's concern goes beyond appearances, highlighting the depth of your friendship. Through laughter, frustration, and unexpected solutions, you realize that the bond you share is stronger than any bad hair day.

A/n : Enjoy (⁠・⁠∀⁠・)

Warnings) : nothing

Word count : 1.5k+

You didn't expect your day to end up like this. In fact, as you sit in front of the bathroom mirror, scissors in hand, you can’t help but wonder how exactly things took such a wild turn. Your curly hair, usually your pride and joy, is now a tangled mess with a blob of pink gum stubbornly stuck in it. It wasn't even your fault – you had just been minding your own business in the common room when Pansy Parkinson, in one of her typical fits of laughter, accidentally spat her gum out. You happened to be the unfortunate recipient.

"How the hell did this happen?" Mattheo's voice booms from the doorway, eyes wide with a mix of horror and disbelief.

You look up, sighing deeply. "Pansy. Gum. Common room. You know the story."

Mattheo strides over, his usual swagger replaced with sheer panic. "No, no, no. You can't cut your hair. We’ll find another way."

You look at him through the mirror, holding up the scissors. "There's no other way, Mattheo. I've tried everything."

He reaches out as if to take the scissors from you, but you pull back. "It's either this or I live with gum in my hair."

"You could wear a hat," Mattheo suggests, desperation clear in his voice.

You raise an eyebrow. "A hat? Really?"

Tom, who has been observing from the doorframe, steps in. "Mattheo, let him do it. You’re being ridiculous."

"No, you don’t understand," Mattheo protests, flailing his arms dramatically. "His hair is perfect. It’s curly and amazing. He can’t just… chop it off!"

You turn back to the mirror, positioning the scissors near the gum-infested strand. "It’s just hair. It’ll grow back."

"Not those curls," Mattheo mutters, pacing behind you. "You don't get it."

You hesitate, the scissors poised to cut. A part of you is flattered by Mattheo’s intense reaction, but practicality wins. Before you can make the snip, Mattheo lunges forward. "Wait! Let’s think this through."

You roll your eyes, but before you can respond, Mattheo's hand knocks against your arm. The scissors slip from your grasp and clatter into the sink.

"Mattheo, stop!" you exclaim, frustration bubbling over.

Tom grabs Mattheo by the shoulders, pulling him back. "Enough, Mattheo. You’re going to make him hurt himself."

"He's about to hurt himself by cutting his hair!" Mattheo counters, struggling against Tom's grip.

Tom holds firm. "It’s his choice. You’re making it worse."

You pick up the scissors again, giving Mattheo a stern look. "I appreciate your concern, but this is my hair, my decision."

Mattheo's face falls, his shoulders slumping as he stops resisting Tom. "But…"

"But nothing," you cut in. "This is happening."

As you finally bring the scissors to the offending strand of hair, Mattheo covers his eyes. "I can’t watch."

The first snip is the hardest. The sound of the blades slicing through your hair is oddly final. You work carefully, cutting away the gum without taking too much of your curls. It’s not perfect, but it’s better than a sticky mess.

You put the scissors down and examine your work. The damage isn’t too bad – a little uneven, but manageable. You run a hand through your curls, relieved to be rid of the gum.

"There," you say, turning to face Mattheo and Tom. "It’s done."

Mattheo uncovers his eyes, peeking through his fingers. When he sees the result, he sighs in relief. "It’s… not as bad as I thought."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence," you reply dryly.

Tom lets go of Mattheo, shaking his head. "You’re such a drama queen."

"I just care about his hair," Mattheo mutters defensively.

You step forward, pulling Mattheo into a hug. "I appreciate it. Really. But it’s just hair. It’ll grow back."

Mattheo hugs you back, a little tighter than usual. "Promise you’ll never let anyone near your hair with gum again."

You laugh, pulling away. "I promise. But next time, maybe let me handle it without you trying to save the day."

Tom chuckles, clapping Mattheo on the back. "Yeah, you nearly gave me a heart attack with your theatrics."

Mattheo grins sheepishly. "Sorry. I just… love his hair."

You shake your head fondly. "You’re impossible."

As the three of you leave the bathroom, you feel a sense of relief. Your hair might be a little shorter, but the love and concern from Mattheo more than make up for it. And besides, it’s just hair. You’ll always have your curls, no matter what.

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

Later that evening, you find yourself back in the common room, attempting to finish the homework you abandoned earlier. Mattheo hasn’t left your side since the incident, casting furtive glances at your hair every few minutes as if expecting it to suddenly disappear.

"Mattheo," you finally say, looking up from your parchment. "I’m fine. My hair is fine. Please, relax."

He sighs, leaning back in his chair. "I know. It’s just… I hate seeing you upset."

You smile, reaching out to squeeze his hand. "I appreciate that. But I’m not upset. It’s just hair."

Mattheo runs a hand through his own hair, looking unconvinced. "I just don’t understand how it happened so fast. One moment we were laughing, and the next…" He trails off, shaking his head.

Pansy, overhearing the conversation, walks over with an apologetic look on her face. "I really am sorry about that. I didn’t mean for it to happen."

You wave her off with a smile. "It’s okay, Pans. Accidents happen."

"Yeah, well, maybe next time keep your gum in your mouth," Mattheo grumbles, crossing his arms.

"Mattheo Riddle!" you scold, giving him a stern look. "It was an accident."

Pansy raises an eyebrow at Mattheo, smirking. "You know, for someone who acts so tough, you’re surprisingly protective."

Mattheo rolls his eyes but doesn’t deny it. "Whatever."

"Anyway," you say, trying to steer the conversation away from the morning’s mishap, "let’s focus on the Transfiguration essay. I could use some help."

Mattheo perks up at that, happy to have something else to focus on. "Alright, but only if you promise to help me with Potions later."

"Deal," you say, laughing.

As the evening wears on, you manage to finish your homework with Mattheo’s and Pansy’s help. Despite the earlier chaos, you’re surrounded by friends who care, and that’s what matters most.

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

The next morning, you wake up to find Mattheo already awake, sitting on the edge of his bed and staring at your hair with a contemplative look.

"What now?" you ask, sitting up and rubbing the sleep from your eyes.

"I was thinking," he begins, hesitating slightly. "Maybe we could go to Madam Pomfrey. She might have a potion or something to make your hair grow back faster."

You chuckle, shaking your head. "It’s fine, Mattheo. Really. I don’t need a potion."

"But wouldn’t it be nice to have your curls back?" he insists, a hopeful look in his eyes.

You sigh, realizing he won’t let it go until you at least consider the idea. "Alright, we can ask. But I’m not making any promises."

Mattheo’s face lights up, and he jumps up from his bed. "Great! Let’s go now."

"Now?" you echo, glancing at the clock. "It’s barely breakfast time."

"The sooner, the better," he says, grabbing your hand and pulling you out of bed.

You barely have time to throw on some clothes before Mattheo is dragging you through the castle, his enthusiasm contagious. When you finally reach the hospital wing, Madam Pomfrey looks up from her desk with a curious expression.

"To what do I owe this early visit?" she asks, raising an eyebrow.

You explain the situation, feeling a bit embarrassed. Madam Pomfrey listens patiently, then nods. "I do have a potion that might help. It’s not instant, but it will speed up the natural growth process."

Mattheo looks delighted as she hands you a small vial of shimmering liquid. "Thank you," he says, practically bouncing with excitement.

You thank her as well, and the two of you head back to the common room. Mattheo watches eagerly as you drink the potion, his eyes glued to your hair.

"Feel anything yet?" he asks, eyes wide with anticipation.

You laugh, shaking your head. "It’s not going to work that fast, Mattheo. Give it time."

He sighs but nods, sitting down beside you. "I just want you to be happy."

You lean against him, smiling. "I am happy. Because I have you."

Mattheo wraps an arm around you, pulling you close. "Good. Because I’m not going anywhere."

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

As the days pass, your hair does start to grow back, and Mattheo’s excitement is palpable. Every morning, he checks your curls, commenting on their progress and making sure you’re taking care of them. His enthusiasm is endearing, and it makes the whole ordeal worth it.

One afternoon, a few weeks later, you catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror and realize that your hair has almost returned to its original length. Mattheo stands behind you, a proud smile on his face.

"See? I told you it would work," he says, running a hand through your curls.

"You were right," you admit, turning to face him. "Thank you for being so insistent."

He grins, pulling you into a hug. "Anything for you."

As you stand there, wrapped in Mattheo’s arms, you realize that no matter what happens – gum in your hair, or any other mishap – you’ll always have someone who cares deeply about you. And that’s more important than perfect curls any day.

[theodorenmyth]

Reader who has a stuff animal that they like to call their “son” 😭 like mattheo got it for them during a holiday is like “so am I the father?”

Holiday Surprise

Pairings : Mattheo Riddle x GN! Reader

Summary : Spending the holiday season with Mattheo Riddle, you’re thrilled when he surprises you with a stuffed owl named Owliver, who you affectionately call your "son." Mattheo’s playful question about being the father leads to heartfelt moments as you both explore the idea of being a whimsical little family, deepening your bond and envisioning a future together filled with love and laughter.

A/n : I LOVE THIS REQUEST SO MUCH!! Someone spend their Christmas with me pls (⁠｡⁠•́⁠︿⁠•̀⁠｡⁠)

Warnings) : tooth rotting fluff

Word count : 1.5k+

You’ve always loved the holiday season. The crisp air, the vibrant decorations, and the spirit of giving have always brought warmth to your heart. This year, however, held a special kind of excitement. You were spending the holidays with Mattheo Riddle, a relationship that had blossomed with unexpected intensity and depth.

The snow was falling gently outside, painting the world in a serene blanket of white. Inside, the fire crackled merrily, casting a warm glow across the room. You were curled up on the couch, a soft blanket draped over you, as you waited for Mattheo to return from his mysterious errand.

Mattheo had been acting secretive all week, hinting at a surprise but refusing to give any details. His mischievous grin and sparkling eyes only added to your anticipation.

Finally, the door creaked open, and Mattheo stepped inside, his cheeks flushed from the cold. He carried a large, gift-wrapped box in his hands.

“Hey there,” he greeted, a playful smile tugging at his lips.

“Hey yourself,” you replied, sitting up and tucking your feet under you. “What’s that?”

“This,” he said, setting the box down in front of you, “is your surprise.”

You raised an eyebrow, curiosity piqued. “What is it?”

He chuckled, the sound low and warm. “Open it and see.”

With eager fingers, you tore away the wrapping paper, revealing a plain cardboard box. You glanced at Mattheo, who nodded encouragingly. Lifting the lid, you gasped. Inside was the most adorable stuffed animal you had ever seen. It was a plush, chubby owl with wide, innocent eyes and soft, downy feathers.

“Oh my goodness!” you exclaimed, pulling the stuffed animal from the box and hugging it to your chest. “It’s so cute!”

Mattheo’s smile widened. “I’m glad you like it.”

“I love it!” you said, beaming at him. “Thank you, Mattheo.”

He reached out and gently brushed a strand of hair behind your ear. “You’re welcome. I thought you could use a little companion for when I’m not around.”

You squeezed the owl tighter, feeling a rush of affection for the thoughtful gift and the man who had given it to you. “I’m going to call him… Owliver,” you declared.

“Owliver, huh?” Mattheo chuckled. “I like it.”

You nodded, holding Owliver up to inspect him. “He’s perfect. And you know what? I’m going to call him my son.”

Mattheo’s eyes twinkled with amusement. “Your son?”

“Yep,” you said, grinning. “Owliver is my son now.”

“Well,” Mattheo said, leaning back and crossing his arms, “does that make me the father?”

You blinked, momentarily taken aback by his question. Then, a mischievous smile spread across your face. “I suppose it does.”

Mattheo’s gaze softened, and he leaned in closer. “In that case,” he murmured, his voice dropping to a low, intimate tone, “we’re quite the little family, aren’t we?”

Your heart skipped a beat at his words. The idea of being a family, even in this playful, whimsical sense, filled you with a warmth and happiness you hadn’t expected.

“I guess we are,” you said softly.

Mattheo’s eyes locked onto yours, and for a moment, the world outside seemed to disappear, leaving just the two of you and your newfound ‘son.’

He reached out and took your hand, his thumb tracing gentle circles on your skin. “I like the sound of that,” he said quietly. “A lot.”

You squeezed his hand, your heart swelling with affection. “Me too.”

The rest of the evening passed in a blissful haze. You and Mattheo settled back onto the couch, Owliver perched on your lap as you talked and laughed, sharing stories and dreams. The fire crackled softly in the background, adding to the cozy, intimate atmosphere.

At some point, Mattheo slipped his arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer. You rested your head on his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your ear. It was a simple, perfect moment, one that you knew you would cherish forever.

“You know,” Mattheo said after a while, his voice a soft rumble, “I’ve never really thought about having a family before. But with you… it feels right.”

Your breath caught in your throat at his words. You lifted your head to look at him, your eyes searching his. “Really?"

He nodded, his expression earnest. “Yeah. Really.”

A smile spread across your face, and you leaned up to kiss him gently. “I feel the same way, Mattheo.”

His eyes shone with warmth and love as he kissed you back, a tender, lingering kiss that spoke of promises and future dreams.

As the night wore on, you found yourselves dozing off, wrapped in each other’s arms. Owliver sat nearby, a silent witness to the start of something beautiful and profound.

The holidays had always been special to you, but this year, they had taken on a new meaning. With Mattheo by your side and Owliver in your arms, you felt a sense of completeness and joy that you had never known before.

And as you drifted off to sleep, you couldn’t help but think that this was just the beginning of your wonderful, whimsical little family.

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

The next morning, you woke up to the soft glow of the morning sun filtering through the curtains. Mattheo was still asleep beside you, his arm draped over your waist. You carefully extricated yourself from his embrace, not wanting to wake him, and tiptoed to the kitchen to make breakfast.

As you cooked, you couldn’t help but glance back at the living room where Mattheo and Owliver were. The sight filled you with a profound sense of contentment. You hummed a cheerful tune as you worked, the aroma of freshly brewed coffee and sizzling bacon filling the air.

A few minutes later, you felt a pair of arms wrap around your waist. You leaned back into Mattheo’s embrace, smiling.

“Good morning,” he murmured, his lips brushing your ear.

“Good morning,” you replied, turning your head to kiss his cheek. “Sleep well?”

“Better than ever,” he said, his voice still thick with sleep. He glanced at the stove. “You’re making breakfast?”

“I thought I’d surprise you for a change,” you said with a grin.

He chuckled, resting his chin on your shoulder. “I could get used to this.”

“Me too,” you admitted, feeling a warm glow spread through you. “Now, go sit down. Breakfast will be ready in a minute.”

Mattheo kissed your neck before reluctantly letting go and heading to the table. You finished up quickly and joined him, setting down plates of pancakes, bacon, and eggs.

“This looks amazing,” Mattheo said, his eyes widening in appreciation.

“Thank you,” you said, sitting down across from him. “I hope it tastes as good as it looks.”

As you ate, you talked about your plans for the day. The holiday markets were in full swing, and you both decided to go explore them after breakfast. The thought of strolling through the festive stalls, hand in hand with Mattheo, filled you with excitement.

After breakfast, you bundled up in warm clothes and set out into the crisp winter air. The streets were bustling with people, all eager to soak in the holiday spirit. You and Mattheo wandered through the market, admiring the handcrafted ornaments, sampling delicious treats, and laughing together.

At one stall, Mattheo bought you a beautiful snow globe with a miniature winter scene inside. “For our little family,” he said with a wink.

You smiled, touched by the gesture. “Thank you, Mattheo. It’s perfect.”

As the day went on, you found yourself growing more and more comfortable with the idea of this little family you were creating. It was playful and lighthearted, but it also felt incredibly real and meaningful.

Later that evening, as you sat by the fire once again, you couldn’t help but bring up the topic that had been on your mind all day.

“Mattheo,” you began, your voice hesitant. “Do you think… do you think this could really be something?”

He looked at you, his eyes serious and thoughtful. “What do you mean?”

“This,” you said, gesturing between the two of you. “Us. Owliver. Our little family. Do you think it could be real?”

Mattheo reached out and took your hand, his grip firm and reassuring. “I do,” he said softly. “One day we will have our own little family together, I promise.”

You felt a surge of emotion at his words. “Really?”

“Yeah,” he said, his gaze unwavering. “I know it might sound silly, but I’ve never felt this way before. I’ve never wanted this with anyone else.”

You squeezed his hand, your heart full. “Me neither.”

He leaned in and kissed you, a slow, tender kiss that conveyed all the feelings you couldn’t put into words. When you finally pulled away, you rested your forehead against his, your breath mingling.

“I love you, Mattheo,” you whispered.

“I love you too,” he replied, his voice just as soft. “More than I ever thought possible.”

The rest of the evening passed in a blissful haze. You talked about your dreams for the future, about the places you wanted to go and the things you wanted to do. With Owliver between you, you made plans for holidays to come, imagining a life filled with love, laughter, and countless adventures.

And as you drifted off to sleep, wrapped in Mattheo's arms, you couldn’t help but think that this was just the beginning of your wonderful, whimsical little family.

[theodorenmyth]

American! Reader who accidentally calls mattheo “Matthew” sometimes. Maybe even one time mattheo grabs reader by their shoulders, shaming them saying “MATTHEO! MY BLOODY NAME IS MA-TH-OOO!”

(Totally didn’t just get this idea all because my keyboard autocorrect mattheo to Matthew)

Getting It Right

Pairings : Mattheo Riddle x GN! Reader

Summary : You have a habit of calling Mattheo Riddle "Matthew," much to his exasperation. Despite his frequent corrections, you continue to slip up, turning it into a playful inside joke. Over time, what started as an annoying mistake becomes a unique bond between you two, culminating in a heartfelt moment when you finally get his name right, revealing the deep connection you've formed.

A/n : Enjoy (⁠・⁠∀⁠・⁠)

Warnings) : nothing!

Word count : 1k+

You had a habit of being absent-minded, which often resulted in amusing mistakes. The most recent victim of your distractedness was none other than Mattheo Riddle. You had a tendency to call him “Matthew,” a name he clearly despised. Yet, despite his frequent corrections, you continued to slip up.

Today was no different. You were sitting in the library, scribbling notes for your Potions essay, when Mattheo approached you. His dark hair fell messily over his eyes, and he wore that familiar smirk that always made your heart skip a beat.

“Hey, Matthew,” you greeted, not looking up from your parchment.

Mattheo’s smirk vanished, replaced by a look of exasperation. “It’s Mattheo,” he corrected, emphasizing each syllable.

“Right, right. Sorry, Matthew,” you replied absentmindedly, your quill still scratching across the parchment.

With a dramatic sigh, Mattheo dropped into the seat next to you. “How do you manage to forget my name every single time?” he asked, leaning closer to peer at your notes.

You finally looked up, meeting his intense gaze. “It’s not on purpose, I swear. You just look like a Matthew to me.”

His eyes narrowed, but there was a hint of amusement in them. “You’re impossible,” he muttered, shaking his head.

“I try,” you replied with a grin.

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

The next time you saw Mattheo was in the Great Hall during breakfast. You were in a rush, as usual, trying to grab a quick bite before your first class. Mattheo was sitting with his friends, laughing at something one of them had said.

“Morning, Matthew!” you called out cheerfully as you passed by.

Mattheo’s head snapped up, and he shot you a look of pure annoyance. “It’s Mattheo!” he called after you, but you were already halfway out of the hall, oblivious to his frustration.

It wasn’t until later that day, during a particularly boring Transfiguration class, that you found yourself seated next to Mattheo again. Professor McGonagall was droning on about the intricacies of human transfiguration, and your mind was wandering.

“Psst, Matthew,” you whispered, nudging Mattheo with your elbow.

Mattheo turned to you, his expression one of incredulous irritation. “Are you serious right now?”

You blinked, confused. “What?”

“Mat-the-o,” he said slowly, as if explaining to a child. “My bloody name is Mat-the-o!”

You couldn’t help the grin that spread across your face. “Sorry, Matthew.”

Mattheo groaned, but there was a spark of something in his eyes. Exasperation, yes, but also a hint of affection. “Why do I even bother?” he muttered under his breath.

“Because you secretly love it,” you teased, poking him in the ribs.

He batted your hand away, but you caught the ghost of a smile tugging at his lips. “You’re infuriating.”

“You’re the one who keeps sitting next to me,” you pointed out.

“Maybe I’m a glutton for punishment,” he replied dryly.

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

Time passed, and your habit of calling Mattheo “Matthew” became something of an inside joke. Despite his initial annoyance, Mattheo seemed to find your constant slip-ups endearing in a strange way. He would roll his eyes and sigh dramatically, but there was always a trace of a smile when he corrected you.

One evening, as you were heading to the common room, you spotted Mattheo sitting alone by the fireplace. He looked up as you approached, a resigned expression on his face.

“Hey, Matthew,” you greeted, plopping down next to him.

Mattheo’s eyes narrowed. “Mat-the-o,” he corrected automatically.

You grinned at him. “Right, sorry. Mat-the-o.”

He studied you for a moment, then did something unexpected. He reached out and grabbed your shoulders, pulling you closer so that your faces were just inches apart. “Listen to me, and listen well,” he said, his voice low and intense. “My name is Mattheo. Ma-th-oo. Got it?”

You couldn’t suppress your laughter. “Got it, Matthew.��

He groaned, but his grip on your shoulders softened. “You’re impossible,” he repeated, but there was a warmth in his gaze that hadn’t been there before.

“I know,” you said, still grinning. “But you love me anyway.”

Mattheo rolled his eyes, releasing you and leaning back in his chair. “Unfortunately, I think you might be right.”

You sat in comfortable silence for a while, the fire crackling softly in the background. Despite his protests, you knew Mattheo didn’t really mind your little mistake. In fact, you had a sneaking suspicion that he might actually enjoy it.

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

As the weeks went by, your friendship with Mattheo deepened. He continued to correct you every time you called him “Matthew,” and you continued to do it anyway. It had become a part of your dynamic, a playful banter that neither of you truly wanted to change.

One day, as you were walking to Herbology together, you felt a pang of guilt. Maybe it was time to finally get his name right. You glanced at him, taking in the way his eyes sparkled with mischief, the way his hair fell over his forehead in that endearing way.

“Mattheo,” you said softly.

He stopped in his tracks, turning to look at you with surprise. “Did you just…?”

You nodded, feeling oddly shy. “I figured it was about time I got it right.”

Mattheo stared at you for a long moment, then a slow smile spread across his face. “You’re full of surprises, you know that?”

You shrugged, trying to play it cool. “I try.”

He shook his head, still smiling. “Well, thank you. It’s nice to hear my name pronounced correctly for once.”

“Don’t get used to it,” you warned, nudging him with your elbow. “Old habits die hard.”

“I wouldn’t expect anything less,” he replied, and there was a softness in his voice that made your heart flutter.

As you continued to walk, you realized that, despite your playful banter and his frequent corrections, Mattheo had never once asked you to change. He had accepted you, quirks and all, just as you had accepted him. And in that moment, you knew that no matter how many times you called him “Matthew,” he would always be Mattheo to you.

[theodorenmyth]

Enemies to lovers of Gryffindor! Reader and mattheo. Reader and the riddle brother always fight and have tension that is so thick you could feel it. Reader is a little cocky pretty boy, and maybe that makes mattheo want to punch reader and makeout makeup for all the things that happened between them. 😈

Heated Rivalry

Pairings : Mattheo Riddle x M! Reader

Summary : In the halls of Hogwarts, your rivalry with Mattheo Riddle is legendary. As a cocky Gryffindor, you live to challenge the Slytherin bad boy, pushing his buttons at every turn. But when a heated confrontation in Potions class takes an unexpected turn, you discover that the tension between you hides a passionate attraction. Navigating the fine line between enemies and lovers, you both agree to keep your fiery relationship a secret, knowing that the battle of wits and desire is far from over.

A/n : Enjoy (⁠・⁠∀⁠・⁠)

Warnings) : enemies to lovers trope, rough kissing

Word count : 1k+

You always had a thing for rivalry. Being a Gryffindor, it was practically in your blood to clash with the Slytherins. But Mattheo Riddle? He was a special case. Ever since you first set eyes on him, there was something about his smug face and aloof demeanor that just begged for you to rile him up.

And rile him up you did. Every chance you got.

Today was no different. You strutted into the Potions classroom with that characteristic swagger that made heads turn. Professor Snape hadn't arrived yet, and the Slytherins were huddled in their usual corner. You spotted Mattheo immediately, lounging in his chair with that infuriating smirk playing on his lips.

"Well, well, if it isn't Riddle," you said, loud enough for the whole room to hear. "Planning your next dark scheme, or just trying to figure out how to tie your shoes?"

Mattheo's eyes snapped up, locking onto yours with a look that could melt steel. "If it isn't the Gryffindor peacock," he retorted. "Still preening in front of the mirror every morning, I see."

You flashed a grin, sauntering over to his table. "Jealousy doesn't suit you, Riddle. But I guess it's hard not to be envious when you're always second best."

His jaw clenched, a telltale sign that you’d hit a nerve. "Careful, pretty boy. One day that mouth of yours is going to get you into trouble."

"Oh, I'm shaking," you mock shivered. "What are you going to do? Hex me with your father's shadow?"

Mattheo shot up from his seat, closing the distance between you in an instant. The tension was palpable, a tangible force crackling in the air between you. "You know nothing about my father," he hissed, his voice low and dangerous.

"And you know nothing about me," you shot back, stepping even closer until you were practically chest to chest. "But let's be real, you’re dying to find out."

For a moment, it seemed like he was about to punch you. His eyes were blazing with anger, but there was something else there too—something you couldn’t quite place. Before you could dwell on it, Snape swept into the room, his robes billowing like dark clouds.

"Take your seats!" he barked. You held Mattheo's gaze for a second longer, a silent challenge passing between you, before you reluctantly moved to your spot.

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

The class dragged on, your mind replaying the encounter with Mattheo. You couldn’t help but glance his way occasionally, noticing how he was doing the same. There was no denying the magnetic pull between you, an electric charge that only intensified with every sharp word and heated glance.

As the bell rang, signaling the end of the class, you packed your things slowly, deliberately waiting for the room to empty. Mattheo seemed to have the same idea, lingering by his table. Finally, it was just the two of you.

"Got something to say, Riddle?" you taunted, leaning against a desk with a cocky grin.

He walked over, his expression unreadable. "Yeah, actually, I do," he said, stopping just inches away from you. "You think you're so clever, always pushing my buttons. But it goes both ways, doesn't it?"

You raised an eyebrow. "What’s that supposed to mean?"

"It means," he said, his voice dropping to a husky whisper, "that maybe I don't want to punch you as much as I want to do this."

Before you could react, his lips crashed into yours. It was rough, all teeth and tongue and pent-up frustration. You were taken aback for a moment, but then instinct kicked in and you kissed him back just as fiercely. Your hands tangled in his hair, pulling him closer, needing to feel every inch of him against you.

When you finally broke apart, both of you were breathing heavily. "What the hell was that?" you asked, your voice hoarse.

Mattheo's eyes were dark with desire. "That was me hating how much I want you," he said bluntly. "And hating you even more for making me feel this way."

You smirked, your cockiness returning. "Well, at least now we’re on the same page."

He laughed, a low, bitter sound. "You really are insufferable."

"And you love it," you shot back.

His expression softened slightly, a flicker of something tender in his eyes. "Yeah," he admitted. "I guess I do."

You pulled him in for another kiss, slower this time, exploring the contours of his mouth. It was different, more intimate, and it sent a shiver down your spine.

When you broke apart again, you rested your forehead against his. "So, what now?" you asked.

"Now," he said, his voice steady, "we keep this between us. No one else needs to know."

"Agreed," you said, feeling a strange sense of satisfaction. "But just so you know, this doesn't mean I'll go easy on you in public."

He grinned. "Wouldn't expect anything less, pretty boy."

You laughed, the sound echoing in the empty classroom. Maybe rivalry wasn’t such a bad thing after all.

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

As the days turned into weeks, the dynamic between you and Mattheo shifted. The arguments didn’t disappear, but they were less venomous, more playful. The stolen kisses and secret glances became a regular occurrence, a hidden world shared only by the two of you.

One evening, as you sat together in a secluded corner of the library, you couldn’t help but smile at the memory of that first kiss. Mattheo looked up from his book, catching your expression.

"What’s so funny?" he asked, a hint of curiosity in his voice.

"Just thinking about how much I hated you," you replied, your tone light.

He raised an eyebrow. "Hated? Past tense?"

You nodded. "Yeah. Turns out, you’re not so bad."

He smirked. "I could say the same about you, L/N"

You leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. "Guess we’re stuck with each other now."

He sighed dramatically, but there was a twinkle in his eye. "I suppose I can live with that."

As you sat there, tangled up in each other, you realized that the line between love and hate was thinner than you’d ever imagined. And crossing it was the best thing you’d ever done.

[theodorenmyth]

Could I request mattheo with m! Reader who has like a warm body temperature all the time? He’s basically like a heating pad for the winter especially, maybe mattheo cuddles reader. Having his hands under reader’s shirt and just liking how warm reader gets.

Warmth in the Winter

Pairings : Mattheo Riddle x M! Reader

Summary : In the midst of a chilly Hogwarts winter, you are a warm-blooded comfort to your friends, especially Mattheo Riddle. With your naturally high body temperature, you become his personal heating pad, sharing cozy moments in the Slytherin common room. As the winter deepens, so does your bond, leading to heartfelt confessions and tender kisses, proving that with Mattheo by your side, you’ll always be warm.

A/n : I'm back from posting, and my laptop is still broken and I have to get a new one so for now I'm posting in my phone. Requests are still closed for now btw!!

Warnings) : Nothing!

Word count : 900+

Winter at Hogwarts was nothing short of magical. The castle grounds were blanketed in a thick layer of snow, and the Great Hall was adorned with sparkling icicles and enchanted snowflakes. Yet, despite the beauty of the season, the chill could be unbearable. For you, though, it was never a problem. Your naturally warm body temperature made you a human heating pad, much to the delight of your friends, especially Mattheo Riddle.

You and Mattheo had grown close over the past year, and it was no secret that he loved cuddling with you during the colder months. Today was no different. You were in the Slytherin common room, the fire crackling in the fireplace, casting a warm glow on the emerald and silver decor. The wind howled outside, but the inside of the common room was cozy and warm, thanks to you.

Mattheo sauntered over to where you were sitting on the couch, a mischievous grin on his face. "Hey there, personal heater," he teased, flopping down beside you.

"Is that all I am to you, Mattheo? A glorified heating pad?" you replied, feigning offense.

He chuckled, shaking his head. "Of course not. You're much more than that." He leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. "But it is a nice perk."

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn't help the smile tugging at your lips. "Come here, you idiot," you said, opening your arms.

Mattheo didn't need to be told twice. He slid closer, wrapping his arms around you and nestling his head against your shoulder. His hands slipped under your shirt, resting against your warm skin. You shivered at his touch, but not from the cold.

"Merlin, you're so warm," he murmured, his breath tickling your neck.

You laughed softly, running your fingers through his dark curls. "I told you, I'm basically a human furnace."

"I'm not complaining," he said, his voice muffled against your shoulder. "I could stay like this forever."

You tightened your arms around him, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. "I wouldn't mind that."

For a while, you just sat there, enjoying the warmth and comfort of each other's presence. The common room was quiet, the only sound the crackling of the fire and the occasional gust of wind rattling the windows. Mattheo's hands moved gently on your skin, tracing patterns that sent shivers down your spine.

"How do you do it?" he asked suddenly, breaking the silence.

"Do what?" you replied, slightly confused.

"Stay so warm all the time. It's like you're immune to the cold."

You shrugged. "I don't know. I've always been like this. My mum used to say I was born with a built-in heater."

He chuckled. "Lucky for me."

You smiled, looking down at him. His eyes were closed, a contented expression on his face. You could see the slight flush on his cheeks from the warmth, and it made your heart swell.

"You're adorable, you know that?" you said softly.

His eyes opened, meeting yours. "So I've been told," he replied with a smirk. "But you're the real star here. I mean, how many people can say they have a personal heater as their best friend?"

"Best friend?" you teased, raising an eyebrow. "Is that all I am to you?"

His expression softened, and he reached up to cup your face in his hand. "You know you're much more than that."

You leaned into his touch, feeling the warmth of his hand against your cheek. "And what exactly am I to you, Mattheo?"

He smiled, his eyes twinkling with mischief and something deeper. "You're my everything."

Your breath caught in your throat, and for a moment, you were lost in his gaze. Then, he leaned in and pressed his lips to yours in a gentle, lingering kiss. It was soft and sweet, a promise of more to come.

When he pulled away, you were both breathless. "You're pretty warm yourself," you whispered, your voice trembling slightly.

He grinned, his eyes sparkling. "Must be your influence."

You laughed, pulling him close again. "Maybe we should start charging people for hugs. We could make a fortune."

He laughed, the sound vibrating through your chest. "That's not a bad idea. We could call it 'Hugs by the Human Heater.'"

You shook your head, smiling. "You're ridiculous."

"But you love me anyway," he said, his tone playful.

You looked into his eyes, your heart swelling with affection. "Yeah, I do."

He tightened his hold on you, his smile softening. "I love you too."

The two of you sat in comfortable silence, the warmth of the fire and each other keeping the cold at bay. Outside, the wind howled and the snow fell, but inside, wrapped in each other's arms, you felt nothing but warmth and love.

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

As the evening wore on, the common room slowly emptied, but you and Mattheo stayed where you were, unwilling to break the spell. You knew that moments like this were precious, and you wanted to savor every second.

Eventually, though, you knew you had to move. "We should probably head to bed," you said reluctantly, not wanting to leave the warmth of his embrace.

He sighed, nodding. "Yeah, I guess you're right." He pulled back slightly, looking into your eyes. "But promise me we'll do this again tomorrow?"

You smiled, pressing a kiss to his lips. "I promise."

With one last lingering embrace, you both stood up, reluctantly letting go of each other. As you made your way to your respective dormitories, you couldn't help but feel a warmth in your heart that had nothing to do with your body temperature.

Winter at Hogwarts might be cold, but with Mattheo by your side, you knew you'd always be warm.

[theodorenmyth]

Paring: m.r. X m! reader

Okay so I have this thought in my mind where reader has sharp canines/fangs and mattheo is like sometimes checking it out everytime reader smiles or even grins. Maybe mattheo has a dark little voice in the back of his mind that says “bite me…bite me.” Maybe it goes to the point Mattheo and reader are jokingly arguing and Mattheo is like

“Bite me if I’m wrong.” And reader is just stumped with a confused face before asking if he’s serious and mattheo just smirks like a little shit, “bite me. If I’m wrong.” You can chose where reader bites him

-🧚🏾‍♀️

　　　　　Bite Me

Pairings : Mattheo Riddle x M! Reader Summary : In the dim light of the Slytherin common room, you notice Mattheo Riddle's eyes lingering on your sharp canines every time you smile. What begins as a teasing bet soon turns into a thrilling, magnetic connection. Mattheo dares you not to smile for a day, with the promise that if you fail, you'll have to bite him. When you lose the bet and fulfill his provocative request, the tension between you intensifies. As you navigate this new and exciting connection, you realize there's more to your relationship with Mattheo than just playful banter. In the flickering firelight, you both decide to stop pretending and see where this undeniable attraction leads. A/n : Enjoy (⁠・⁠∀⁠・⁠) Warnings) : Nothing! Word count : 1.3k+

The dim light of the Slytherin common room flickered gently, casting long shadows across the stone walls. You were sprawled on one of the emerald green couches, a book propped open on your lap, your sharp canines occasionally glinting as you grinned at the sarcastic remarks Mattheo made. He was lounging in an armchair nearby, eyes darting up to catch the flash of your fangs every now and then.

It had become a habit for him, something you had started to notice. Every time you smiled, his eyes would linger just a moment too long on your mouth. You had even caught him once or twice, his gaze fixated on your teeth, a dark glint in his eyes. It was both amusing and perplexing, but you hadn't called him out on it. Not yet.

Tonight was no different. You chuckled at something in your book, and Mattheo’s eyes flicked up, focusing on your canines. That dark little voice in his mind, the one that whispered forbidden thoughts, grew louder. "Bite me… bite me," it urged. He shifted in his seat, trying to shake off the peculiar urge.

"What's so funny?" he asked, trying to distract himself.

You glanced up, still grinning. "Just this book. The main character is a complete idiot. Keeps getting himself into trouble for no good reason."

Mattheo smirked, leaning forward. "Sounds like someone we know."

"Who, Draco?" you replied with a laugh, knowing full well who Mattheo meant.

"No, you," Mattheo said, his tone teasing. "Always getting yourself into trouble with those fangs of yours."

You rolled your eyes, but the grin didn't fade. "It's not my fault people find them intimidating."

"Intimidating? I think they're fascinating," Mattheo said, his voice dropping slightly. There was that look again, the one that made you feel like prey under a predator's gaze. "And maybe a little bit… alluring."

You blinked, momentarily taken aback by the intensity in his eyes. "Alluring? Really?"

He shrugged, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Just an observation."

You were about to retort when he suddenly sat up straight, a sly smile spreading across his face. "Tell you what," he said, a challenge evident in his tone. "Let's settle this with a bet."

You raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "What kind of bet?"

Mattheo's smile widened. "If I'm wrong about something, you bite me."

You stared at him, unsure if you had heard correctly. "Bite you?"

"Yeah," he said, leaning back casually. "Bite me. If I'm wrong."

The room seemed to grow quieter, the flickering fire casting an almost ominous glow. "Are you serious?" you asked, half-expecting him to burst out laughing.

But Mattheo just smirked, his dark eyes locked onto yours. "Dead serious. Come on, it'll be fun."

You hesitated, your mind racing. There was something undeniably tempting about the idea, something that stirred a primal part of you. But you couldn't just let him win this easily. "Alright," you said slowly, "what's the bet?"

Mattheo's eyes gleamed with triumph. "Simple. I bet that you can't go a full day without smiling."

You laughed outright at that. "That's impossible! You're always making me laugh."

"Exactly," Mattheo said, his smile widening. "That's why it'll be a challenge. If you smile even once tomorrow, you have to bite me."

You considered it for a moment, weighing the odds. "Fine," you said, extending your hand. "You're on."

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

The next day was torture. Mattheo was relentless, pulling out every joke, every sarcastic remark, every ridiculous face he could think of. You fought hard, pressing your lips together, refusing to give in. But by lunchtime, you were struggling.

Mattheo had just recounted a particularly absurd story about Draco trying to impress a girl by attempting a spell he'd clearly never practiced before. The mental image of Draco's face, combined with Mattheo's impeccable delivery, was too much. A snort escaped before you could stop it, followed by a full-blown laugh.

Mattheo's eyes lit up with victory. "Aha! I knew it!"

You groaned, burying your face in your hands. "Fine, you win."

Mattheo's smirk was almost unbearable. "You know what that means."

You glared at him, trying to hide your nervousness. "You really want me to bite you?"

"Absolutely," he said, his voice low and daring. "Unless you're too scared."

You stood up, your heart pounding. "Scared? Of you? Never."

He raised an eyebrow, a challenge in his gaze. "Then do it."

You took a step closer, your mind racing. This was insane. But the dark, hungry look in his eyes spurred you on. With a deep breath, you leaned in, your sharp canines grazing the skin of his neck. You could feel his pulse quicken, his breath hitching.

For a moment, you hesitated, but then you bit down gently, just enough to leave a mark. Mattheo gasped, a low, almost feral sound escaping his lips. When you pulled back, his eyes were dark with something that made your stomach flip.

"That," he said, his voice rough, "was even better than I imagined."

You smirked, feeling a rush of satisfaction. "Told you I wasn't scared."

Mattheo grinned, rubbing the spot where you had bitten him. "We should make bets more often."

You laughed, feeling a strange, thrilling connection form between you. "Maybe we should."

As the day went on, the atmosphere between you and Mattheo shifted subtly. There was a new tension, a charged current that neither of you acknowledged but both felt keenly. The rest of the day passed in a blur of classes and casual interactions, but every time you caught Mattheo's eye, the memory of that bite, of the way his skin had yielded beneath your teeth, sent a shiver down your spine.

That evening, you found yourselves alone in the common room again. The fire was low, casting a soft, intimate glow over the room. Mattheo was sitting on the couch this time, his usual cocky demeanor replaced by something more contemplative.

You dropped into the armchair opposite him, watching him quietly. He looked up, meeting your gaze with that familiar dark intensity.

"So," he said slowly, "how was your day?"

You chuckled, shaking your head. "Strangest day I've had in a while."

"Strange how?" Mattheo's voice was low, almost a purr.

You leaned back, your eyes never leaving his. "Strange because I spent the entire day trying not to smile, and then ended up biting you. It's not exactly a normal Tuesday."

Mattheo laughed, a rich, genuine sound. "Fair enough. But you have to admit, it was kind of fun."

You rolled your eyes, but a smile tugged at your lips. "Yeah, I guess it was."

He shifted slightly, his eyes growing serious. "You know, I've been thinking about something."

"What's that?" you asked, genuinely curious.

He hesitated, as if weighing his words. "That bite… it wasn't just a game, was it? There was something more to it."

You felt your heart skip a beat. "What do you mean?"

Mattheo leaned forward, his gaze intense. "I mean, there's something between us. Something we've been dancing around for a while now."

You swallowed hard, the air suddenly feeling thick. "You think so?"

"I know so," he said firmly. "And I think you do too."

The truth of his words hung between you, undeniable. You had felt it too, that magnetic pull, that thrill every time you were near him. And now, with the memory of his skin beneath your teeth, the connection felt even stronger.

"So what do we do about it?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

Mattheo's eyes darkened with resolve. "We stop pretending. We see where this goes."

You nodded slowly, feeling a rush of excitement and anticipation. "Okay. Let's see where it goes."

He smiled, a slow, satisfied smile. "Good. Because I've got a feeling this is going to be a lot of fun."

You laughed softly, the tension easing just a bit. "Yeah, I think you're right."

As the fire flickered and the night deepened, you and Mattheo sat in the common room, the promise of something new and exciting hanging in the air. It was the start of something neither of you fully understood yet, but both of you were eager to explore.

And as you looked at Mattheo, his eyes gleaming with that familiar dark intensity, you couldn't help but think that this was exactly where you were meant to be.

[theodorenmyth]

I feel like if mattheo had a partner who literally has the most cutest sad pout…that boy would flip and turn soft for them. It’s giving princess/prince treatment on how adorable they are. Mattheo would easily go from feral to “aw baby are you okay🙁” and other would be like “🤨wtf?”

　　　Feral to Tender

Pairings : Mattheo Riddle x M! Reader Summary : You find Mattheo Riddle storming through the corridors of Hogwarts, his rage palpable and intimidating. With your signature sad pout and unwavering love, you manage to calm his tempestuous heart, revealing the tender side that only you can bring out. As the two of you seek solace in each other’s arms, you realize that your love can weather any storm, transforming ferocity into gentleness, and fear into unwavering support. This is the story of how you, the one person capable of taming the wild Mattheo Riddle, become his anchor and his safe haven. A/n : Enjoy (⁠・⁠∀⁠・⁠) Warnings) : Nothing! Word count : 1.4k+

The storm raging outside Hogwarts mirrored the ferocity within Mattheo Riddle. He stormed through the corridors, dark eyes blazing with anger and fists clenched tight. The whispers and worried glances from students did nothing to alleviate his fury. His reputation for being feral and untamed was well-known, and no one dared to cross his path when he was in such a mood.

Except for you.

You had been waiting for him outside the Great Hall, hoping to catch him before he did something reckless. When you saw him, your heart sank at the sight of his clenched jaw and tense shoulders. Mattheo Riddle was a force of nature, and when his temper flared, it could be terrifying. But you knew how to calm him down.

"Mattheo" you called softly, stepping into his path. He barely glanced at you, his eyes still ablaze with anger.

"Not now," he growled, attempting to push past you.

You stood your ground, your hands reaching out to gently grasp his arm. "Please, Mattheo, just talk to me."

He stopped then, finally looking at you. His eyes, which were dark and wild just moments ago, softened slightly at the sight of your pleading expression. You knew the power your pout held over him; it was a secret weapon of sorts. Your lips curved into the cutest sad pout hes ever seen, eyes wide and shimmering with unshed tears.

Instantly, the ferocity in Mattheo’s gaze melted away, replaced by concern. His hands unclenched and he cupped your face tenderly, his thumbs brushing away the tears threatening to spill.

"Aw, baby, are you okay?" he asked, his voice a stark contrast to the growl from moments before. The students nearby exchanged bewildered glances, their confusion palpable.

You nodded slightly, leaning into his touch. "I just… I hate seeing you like this, Mattheo. It scares me."

His expression softened even further, and he pulled you into his arms, holding you close. "I'm sorry, love. I didn't mean to scare you. It's just… some people are so infuriating."

You buried your face in his chest, inhaling the familiar scent of him. "I know, but you don't have to fight every battle alone. Let me help you."

He sighed, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. "You're too good for me, you know that?"

You pulled back slightly to look up at him, your pout turning into a small smile. "Maybe, but you're stuck with me."

Mattheo chuckled softly, the sound a soothing balm to your nerves. "I wouldn't have it any other way."

The transformation in Mattheo's demeanor was always startling to those who witnessed it. One moment he was a storm, raging and uncontrollable, and the next he was gentle and caring, all because of you. It was like you held the key to his softer side, a side that was usually hidden from the world.

As the two of you stood there, wrapped in each other's arms, the whispers grew louder. You could hear the astonished murmurs of your classmates.

"Did you see that? He was so mad, and then he just… melted."

"I've never seen Mattheo Riddle act like that before. Who is that guy?"

"How does he do it?"

You ignored them, focusing solely on Mattheo. He was the only thing that mattered to you in that moment. His hands stroked your back soothingly, and you felt the tension slowly leave your body.

"Come on," he murmured, "let's get out of here."

You nodded, allowing him to lead you away from the curious eyes of your classmates. He took you to one of your favorite spots in the castle, a secluded alcove by the library where you could be alone.

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

Once you were there, Mattheo sat down, pulling you into his lap. You snuggled against him, feeling safe and protected.

"Thank you," he whispered, his lips brushing your ear. "You always know how to calm me down."

You smiled, turning your head to press a kiss to his jaw. "That's because I love you, Mattheo. And I hate seeing you upset."

He tightened his arms around you, his eyes filled with adoration. "I love you too. More than anything."

The two of you sat there in comfortable silence, the storm outside forgotten. In that moment, it was just the two of you, wrapped up in each other. Mattheo's earlier anger seemed like a distant memory, replaced by the warmth of your love.

As you rested your head on his shoulder, you couldn't help but feel a sense of pride. You had managed to tame the wild heart of Mattheo Riddle, something no one else had been able to do. And in return, he treated you like royalty, his feral nature giving way to a gentle and caring lover.

Suddenly, you remembered an incident from earlier in the day. “What happened with Pansy?” you asked, looking up at him.

Mattheo sighed, rolling his eyes. “She was being obnoxious, as usual. Making comments about how I should be more like her precious Draco.”

You chuckled softly. “I’m sure you handled it with your usual grace and diplomacy.”

“Of course,” he smirked, then grew serious. “But she’s not important. What’s important is that you’re here. You always know how to make everything better.”

You reached up, tracing the line of his jaw with your fingertips. “I just want you to be happy, Mattheo. You deserve that.”

He leaned into your touch, closing his eyes briefly. “I am happy. When I’m with you, everything feels right.”

A comfortable silence enveloped you both once more, the only sounds being the soft patter of rain against the windows and the distant murmur of students in the library.

“I’ve been thinking,” Mattheo said suddenly, breaking the silence. “Maybe we should get away for a while. Just you and me. Somewhere we can be alone.”

Your eyes lit up at the suggestion. “Really? Where would we go?”

“Anywhere you want,” he replied, his eyes softening as he looked at you. “A place where we don’t have to worry about anything or anyone. Just us.”

“That sounds perfect,” you murmured, leaning in to kiss him gently.

He smiled against your lips. “It is perfect. Because you’re perfect.”

You laughed softly, resting your forehead against his. “You’re such a sap.”

“Only for you,” he replied, his tone serious. “Only for you.”

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

The rest of the evening passed in a blissful haze. Mattheo held you close, his fingers tracing idle patterns on your back as you talked about everything and nothing. He told you stories of his childhood, of the pressures he faced, and you shared your own dreams and fears.

Eventually, the storm outside began to abate, and the castle grew quieter as students retired to their dormitories. Mattheo reluctantly stood, pulling you up with him.

“We should get back,” he said, though his eyes showed his reluctance. “We don’t want to get caught out after curfew.”

You nodded, though you too wished the night didn’t have to end. “Alright. But promise me we’ll have more nights like this.”

“Always,” he vowed, pulling you in for one last kiss. “I promise.”

Hand in hand, you made your way back to the Slytherin common room. The corridors were deserted, and the flickering torchlight cast long shadows on the stone walls. Mattheo’s grip on your hand was firm and reassuring, a silent promise that he would always be there for you.

As you reached the entrance to the common room, he paused, turning to look at you. “Thank you for tonight,” he said softly. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“You’ll never have to find out,” you replied, squeezing his hand. “I’m not going anywhere.”

He smiled, a rare, genuine smile that made your heart swell. “Good. Because I need you.”

With a whispered password, the entrance to the common room opened, and you both slipped inside. The room was dimly lit, with only a few students still lingering by the fire. Mattheo led you to a quiet corner, where he pulled you into his arms once more.

“Let’s stay here for a while,” he murmured. “I’m not ready to let you go just yet.”

You nodded, resting your head against his chest. “Me neither.”

And so you stayed, wrapped up in each other, oblivious to the rest of the world. In Mattheo’s arms, you felt safe and cherished, knowing that no matter what challenges lay ahead, you would face them together.