#Matheo Riddle Fluff

[slytherinslut0]

SLYTHERINSLUT0’S KINKTOBER

october 4th. mattheo - virginity loss / corruption kink.

PART TWO | kinktober masterlist. | 2024.

summary: pls read part one first for a lil buildup. also. im laughing at myself bc there was a perfectly good bed…right there…

warnings: 18+, SMUT MDNI, virginity loss, PIV, so much dirty talk, so much patience from mattheo, (more of a realistic virginity loss bc it’s not always easy), praise!!!!, slight degradation, fingering, multiorgasm, handjob, best friends lil sister trope.

Mattheo Riddle was so accustomed to this. The pulse of adrenaline in the dead of night, the quiet hum of anticipation stretching every second longer than it needed to be. You weren't naive to that, not to him, nor the danger he carried so effortlessly in his stride. He wore it like a second skin.

But you—you were not accustomed to it. Not to any of this.

So when you pushed open the door to the room of requirement a little over ten-minutes later, you hadn't been sure what you were expecting to find. Something darker, maybe. More foreboding. But when the room revealed itself before you—silent, draped in soft moonlight that pooled over the bed with a window wide and open, spilling that pale silver fog across the floor—you almost laughed.

Too perfect. Too on the nose, like the castle itself had been watching you both for months and had decided this was the moment it would indulge you.

"You're late." Mattheo's voice cut through the quiet.

His back was to you, suit jacket discarded on an old oak desk against the wall, dark curls falling just above his collar as he stood by the window, eyes fixed on the lake. The moonlight made the ripples dance, just like the tension in the room.

You took a step toward him, silent.

He turned, finally. His eyes met yours and you saw it—the hesitation, the way his gaze moved over you, slow, cautious. He took in the way the light draped itself over your shoulders, moving lower—and it was as if for the first time, he allowed himself to see you fully, all the details he had so tried to ignore, now right in front of him. He drank them in.

You gave him a small, nervous smile, hoping it would ease the weight of his stare. "I didn't realize you were the type to keep track of time."

He moved closer, but not close enough. Not yet. His breath was tight, chest rising and falling too fast. The space between you felt like a chasm, though it was barely there at all.

"You've a lot to learn, little girl," he teased, that familiar smirk tugging at the corner of his lips, though it did nothing to mask the conflict in his eyes. It was meant to disarm you, but it only made the air heavier. His jaw tightened. "You're sure about this?"

"Quite sure," you breathed, stepping closer, close enough to admire the sharp line of his jaw, the soft stubble. "You're the one who's hesitating."

"I'm not hesitating," he muttered, though the roughness in his voice betrayed him. He knew he shouldn't be here, shouldn't be doing this with you. His best friend's little sister. He wanted to give you every chance to stop this, to walk away. "Just trying not to rush this—rush you."

You let out a small huff, your hand moving up to find his chest, feeling the rapid thud of his heartbeat beneath your fingertips. Mattheo Riddle was nervous.

"You've been making me wait for months," you whispered. "I don't think a little rushing would hurt."

He swallowed hard, his eyes locked on your hand as it trailed over his chest, lower, teasing. Every touch was a flame against his skin, every breath between you a match struck in the dark. He wanted you, more than anything, but the weight of it—the wrongness, the danger—clawed at his conscience.

His hand caught your wrist, intending to stop you, but his fingers lingered against your skin. Frozen.

"We shouldn't be doing this," he muttered, the words thick in his throat. "Your first time should be—"

"My choice," you interrupted, pressing closer, your body flush against his, your lips brushing his jaw as your hand slid lower, teasing the edge of his belt. "My virginity is mine to give, Mattheo. And I want to give it to you."

He shuddered, your words settling, sinking into the dark space that held you both captive. His hand found your hip, the other threading through your hair, gently tugging your head back to expose the soft skin of your neck.

"You’re not thinking straight," he rasped. "You'll regret this..."

But even as he said it, his hands tightened, pulling you impossibly closer.

"I'll regret nothing." Your fingers slipped lower, grazing his crotch, moving with nothing but instinct and need. Biting your lip, you felt the outline of him, hard and aching under your palm, and squeezed—he grunted, snapping his hips, and you throbbed. "Shit, Mattheo..."

"You are—fuck..." Mattheo's voice was a ragged breath, the words drawn out like he'd been holding them back for months. "...such a little tease."

You let go as quickly as you'd squeezed, and he growled against your skin, fingers tightening in your hair. Your hands found his face, pulling him in, crushing your lips to his. You moved with intent, pushing him back until his thighs hit the edge of the desk, and he groaned again—this low, guttural sound that sent a thrill through you.

You smirked into the kiss, tasting his frustration, savouring the way his defences cracked open. When you pulled back, his chest was heaving, lips swollen, eyes dark with want.

"I learned from the best," you whispered, teasing as your fingers slid down, finding the buckle of his belt. He watched you, every breath uneven, as you worked at the latch, pulling the leather free. "You've had months of fun tormenting me," you continued, moving to the button, the zipper. "Kissing me, only to say it was a mistake. Grabbing my ass every chance you could. Talking sweet when my brother wasn't looking..." your smirk deepened, and you looked up at him through your lashes. "...it's my turn now."

His pants sagged around his hips as you undid them and he cursed under his breath—his brain was struggling to catch up, like he couldn't believe the sudden shift, couldn't quite fathom the boldness with which you undid him.

Until—his hands were on you, spinning you around, your back hitting the desk with a thud.

"You think you're in control here?" His fingers slid up your hips, dragging your dress along with them, baring your skin to the cool air. "You think you have any goddamn idea what you're doing?"

You shuddered—you'd never seen him like this before—there was something feral in the way he moved, now, something sharp in the way his hands worked. His thumbs hooked around your panties and in one swift motion, they were gone—torn down your thighs before he urged you back onto the desk, parting your legs with his torso.

You were breathless, chest heaving, pulse thrumming wildly. His presence consumed the room, and for a moment, it was all you could focus on—the intensity of him, the raw, unfiltered hunger in his eyes.

You stared up at him, mind empty, until—

Smack.

His palm came down on your inner thigh, not hard enough to hurt, but enough to send a jolt of sensation straight to your cunt. Your skin stung from the contact, but that wasn't the part that made you gasp. It was the heat, the way it surged through your veins, flooding your abdomen in a slow, aching pulse. You liked that.

"I asked you a question." His lips brushed against your ear, breath warm as he leaned in. "Two, actually."

You couldn't think, mind swimming—the press of his body, the rough timber of his voice, the weight of his hands as his fingers teased, climbing higher, brushing closer to the ache between your thighs. You sucked in a breath, trying to recall what he'd asked, trying to focus anything but the fire he was lighting in you—

But then, his fingers slipped further, closer, just barely brushing your slit, and your hips jerked involuntarily, chasing that touch.

"No—I don’t—“ the shame in the answer barely mattered. His fingers were so close, so close. "Gods—I just know I want you—"

"That's all you think about, isn't it?" He smirked, lips falling to your neck, tongue tracing the places he knew would wreck you, each soft, wet press making you whimper despite yourself. "You don't care about anything else..." his fingers slipped lower, dipping between your folds—and you cried out, shameless, the sensation unlike any other you'd ever felt. "…not the consequences, not the risk...you just want me…”

Your nails dug into his back and he sucked in a breath through his teeth, wetting his fingers in your arousal before gliding back up to your clit and tracing over it.

"Oh—Gods—" you whinged, moaning into his shoulder.

Mattheo’s hands were experienced—that much was certain. Those fingers knew exactly how to move, precisely how to trace light, delicate circles over your clit that made you twitch, squirm— nerves stripped as you took in the new sensation. It wracked every inch of you, and you could feel him savouring your helplessness, drawing out every ounce of tension that had been building between you for months.

“You’re soaked.” You could hear the disbelief in his voice. “...filthy little thing for me, aren't you?"

"Gods, Mattheo, yes—" your eyes rolled, thighs twitching against his hand. "I am—ohh—"

"Yeah?" His tongue traced a slow, wet path up the side of your neck, teeth dragging over your pulse. "You like this?"

His words were enough to make you want to scream, but no sound formed—just a low, broken moan that spilled from your throat, raw and shameless.

"Answer me," he murmured. "You ever orgasm from this before? Hm?"

"No—" your voice choked, trembling as you squeezed your eyes shut, unable to look at him, something like shame pooling in your stomach. "Oh, fuck—"

"No, what?" His fingers pressed harder, circles growing faster, more insistent, and his voice—Christ, his voice— "I asked you two questions, little slut. Keep up. You wanted this."

"Yes—mmf—I like it—" you whined, the words a desperate spill from your lips, too flustered to form anything coherent. "And no—Gods—you're the first to...to touch me like this..."

He figured as much but the admission tore through him nonetheless, his teeth sinking into your shoulder with a groan—not enough to hurt, but enough to leave a mark, a bruise, a reminder. His hand dipped lower, a finger pushing inside you without warning, pressing deep into your slick heat, and you cried out, your body tightening, pulsing around him, vision swimming.

"And this?" His voice was a smirk against your skin. "You let anyone else inside you like this?"

You knew he already knew the answer. You both did. He was reveling in it—the way he had you, trembling, helpless. You'd never heard him like this, never heard him so crass, so unfiltered, and the way he spoke made your whole body flush with heat.

"No." The word was a strangled moan, barely a breath. "Gods—Mattheo—you already knew that—"

He crooked his finger inside you, and your back arched, the stretch unfamiliar yet mindnumbing, his thumb working your clit. You felt teeth nipping at your earlobe, a hum into your eardrum—his body thrumming with the satisfaction of finally, finally letting himself have you where he wanted.

"Perhaps I did." He added another finger, curling them inside you, his teeth scraping along your neck in a smile. The groan that slipped from your lips was desperate, pained in its pleasure, your body reacting to every new inch of him. "Fucking hell—you can barely take two..."

Your head shook, words failing you. "Gods—Mattheo—I...fuck..."

A low grunt rumbled from his chest, his fingers moving quicker, slick with the evidence of your desire. "Feels good?"

"Yes—" you moaned, breath hitching, vision blurring as he pumped his fingers in and out, building something inside you that you couldn't name, something new, something overwhelming. "I feel—oh, gods—something...happening—"

"You feel something?" His voice was mocking, drenched in that innocent, teasing tone that had you falling apart. "Yeah? What's happening, princess?"

You couldn't find breath, couldn't form the words to answer him. The pressure inside you was mounting, intensity unbearable, your body tense and straining toward an edge. You clung to him, breathless, desperate for more, desperate for something, anything—

"I don't—" your voice broke as his fingers curled deeper, wetness flooding between your thighs, his thumb relentless. "Pressure—fuck—so much—"

He nodded. "Yeah? Pressure in that pretty stomach? Feels fucking good, doesn't it?"

"Fuck—yes, yes," your lids fluttered. "S’good—"

"You're so close." He watched you, drunk on your downfall, and smirked as you neared the edge. "You're going to cum for me."

Sanity shattered in your throat—words trapped, swallowed by the tension, leaving only the soft, unbridled whimpers you once might've once found embarrassing. But there was no shame now, not when you were this close, the pressure coiling tighter in your core, ready to burst.

"Ohh—" you managed, lungs sputtering, head tipping back. The sound of your voice, the way you moaned, was foreign, unfamiliar to your own ears. "Gods—oh fuck-"

"I know," he cooed, sweet like sugar. "I know."

You were a mess. Too close, too overwhelmed—everything was him. His scent, the heat of his skin, the feel of his fingers working that magic that had your body convulsing before you could even cry out, before you could process the way your vision blurred with the force of it. The climax hit like a wave crashing over you, and your moans were swallowed by his kiss, his lips on yours the second your body tightened, shaking against his hand.

He was relentless, rough and insistent, kissing you like he wanted to devour you whole—drowning out the world as your body pulsed around his fingers. You’d never felt such an intense sensation, lava coursing, replacing the blood in your veins. His breath stuttered against your mouth, a low groan vibrating through him, the sound making your spine tingle.

"F-fuck," he muttered, pulling his fingers from you, glistening and wet. "Messy little thing."

The words sent a shiver through you, not just from their meaning but from the way he said them, like something perverse, intimate. Your chest tightened with the warmth of them.

"You—" you panted, trying to find your voice. Blinking through the haze of lingering bliss. "You can't say things like that."

"Why not?" He chuckled your name against your neck, lips brushing a path to your ear. "Because you might fall in love with me?" His teeth grazed the sensitive spot under your lobe, along your jawline. "Oh wait...you already have."

"Shut up," you whispered, stomach flipping at the way he said your name, the way it dripped from his mouth like honey. "Have not."

"I've known for a while, you know," he mused, his voice so low, so quiet. "Don't think I haven't seen it—the way you look at me." He kissed your skin again, working his way up, each press of his lips something sacred, moving closer to your mouth. "The way you can't get enough of me."

You could kill him for it, for the way his words sunk into your bones, making all the feelings you've buried rise to the surface, pulling you under. He just had to go there—had to milk every inch of your composure out of you, because it's not enough for him to have you disarmed physically—sexually—he needed to have you disarmed emotionally, too.

Perhaps the worst part of it all is how right he was. Arrogant bastard.

"Stop talking," your hand drifted down, grazing the bulge in his pants, your fingers slipping under the waistband, rubbing him through the thin fabric of his boxers. It was reckless. You've never done this before, but God, you wanted to. "Stop talking and teach me."

The room tilted—the world off its axis. His breath caught, choked in his lungs as he grabbed your face and pulled your lips to his—his kiss wild, his tongue insistent, running along your gums and wrestling with yours for control.

"Fuck," he groaned into your mouth as you tugged his boxers down, freeing him, your hand wrapping around him. Hot. Hard. "Wrap your fingers around it, princess. Gentle strokes. Just like that."

Your heart stumbled at the sound of his voice, thick, raw and open. You tightened your grip, stroking him slowly, experimentally, and he hissed through his teeth, a groan vibrating through his chest.

"You're so big," you murmured, forehead against his, the words spilling out without thought. "So thick..."

"Fucking minx," he moaned. "Stroking me and telling me how big I am—fuck—you're not as innocent as everyone thinks."

"Only you know this," you whispered, your hand moving in slow, deliberate strokes, pulse soaring as he groaned. "Does it feel good, Matty?"

"Fuck—Christ—" his breath was jagged, words ripped from his throat like they barely wanted to come out, hips jerking mindlessly. "Tighter, mm—little tighter—"

Your cunt throbbed—each whispered invocation of a god not his own, of something he didn't believe in, forced a shudder through you. That's how you knew. Knew how lost he was. He’d no mind left at all if he was muttering muggle gods.

"Like that?" Your fingers squeezed around him, your gaze burning into his as you looked up through fluttering lashes.

His face was a storm—flushed, eyes half-shut—but at your voice they opened and flicked down to yours, and for once, there was no arrogance, no mockery in that stare. Just raw, primal need, burning so fiercely it made you ache. His hips rocked, desperate for more. Painfully. A hole in his chest torn wide open for you to see, and he didn't care. Couldn't care.

"Yeah—shit—just like that," he gritted out, grip on your hips bruising, but you welcomed it. Needed it. "Fast learner, aren't you?"

"You're a good teacher," you whimpered, a sound that was barely yours as his fingers slipped between your thighs, finding your slit, teasing you open again. "Oh—"

"You've always been a little teacher's pet," he groaned, thrusting into your hand as he slipped a finger inside you. The stretch made you wince, pleasure and pain blurring into something that sent sparks behind your eyes. He watched you, gaze molten. "Fuck—it’s gonna hurt, you know that, right?"

The ache spread through you, but you didn't flinch. "I know," you whispered as his thumb found your clit, making you gasp. "I trust you."

"I know you do." His voice dropped, eyes dark and soft at once as he pushed another finger inside. "You know you’ve always had me wrapped around your fucking finger. You know I care about you—“

His words were too much, pressing on something fragile inside you, and you pulled him into a kiss to shut him up—deep, desperate, drowning. Your hand tightened on his length, the heat between you flaring, and you moaned against his mouth, shaking with the need for more.

"I want you," you breathed, each syllable shivering on your lips as you clenched around his fingers. "I've wanted you for months—"

Months? No, it had been years. Years of wanting, needing, watching from afar, heart in your throat. Years of avoiding anyone else because no one was him. You knew he’d felt the same and it killed him. It wasn't logical, wasn't supposed to be like this—not with you, not now, not his best friend's little sister, not him whispering sweet, dangerous things while knuckle-deep inside your virgin cunt.

It was as if you both shook those thoughts from your minds at once. You’ll think about the implications later.

"You've got me," he rasped, hips grinding involuntarily against your hand. "Just—fuck—don't hate me after this."

Hate him? The very idea was laughable, absurd. You could never hate him. Not even in those moments you tried, not even when he deserved it.

"I could never hate you," you murmured, drawing him closer, lips trembling against his. "Just—please—"

Something shifted in his eyes, and he knew. Knew what you needed. What you both needed. You were vulnerable, trembling, but you trusted him—completely. You’d been in his life for so long. You knew he’d never hurt you. He could see it your eyes, the trust, the in the way your body bent to his touch.

"Alright," he said softly, a hand running up your body to cup your face, thumb brushing your cheek. "Alright."

His fingers slid out of you, leaving you bare and breathless, and you swallowed. This was really about to happen.

"Lay back," his voice cut through your haze. "Legs to your chest."

The command wrapped around you like a vice, tightening the anticipation, and you fell back on your elbows, staring up at him as you raised your legs. Vulnerability crept in, making your thighs tense, but Mattheo was there, spreading you open with firm hands, pressing himself against your slick. His eyes were locked onto yours, all that self-assurance gone, melted into something more human—something raw, unguarded.

You could feel it; the vulnerability of this moment stretched between you both—the distance you'd maintained for so long, the careful walls you'd built, were nothing now. He was in too deep, and so were you.

"Stop me at any time," he whispered, his voice a raw rasp, eyes meeting yours. "Just breathe.”

He leaned down until his lips ghosted over yours, and you kissed him like the world might collapse if you didn't. He guided himself against you, the press of him at your entrance an unbearable ache. He was hot, hard, huge—and despite the wetness slicking down your thighs, your body resisted, too tight, too unsure of this.

You whimpered, instinctively trying to pull away, but he stayed, pressing kisses to your hair, your temple, whispering something that sounded like comfort but burned like fire. It hurt more than you expected, more than any of the fantasies you had dared to entertain.

Doubt curled through your chest, what if you couldn't take him? What if—

"M-Mattheo..." his name broke in your throat as you clutched his arm, nails digging into his skin. He tried to push in again, but your body resisted. "It—you—you can't fit..."

"Shh," his lips ghosted over yours, his hand slipping through your hair, trying again, moving slow, controlled. "You're just—so goddamn tight—"

The way he said it sent a spark through your veins. It was filthy, shameless, and it lit you up from the inside, despite the pain. No one had ever spoken to you like this. You swallowed the lump in your throat, tears pricking as he tried to work you open.

And then—he was in.

"I-it hurts," you hissed—pain lighting up your spine as he worked his cockhead inside you, pushing against the resistance of your walls. His breath came in sharp, ragged bursts, each inch a battle. The pressure was unbearable, the sting so sharp it was paralyzing. "Oh, fuck, Mattheo—"

He groaned, a sound from deep within his chest, his head bowing, sweat creeping over his brow.

"Shhh, I know—I know..." he murmured through shredded cords, fighting to maintain control as his hips paused, barely halfway in, just enough to make you feel like you might break. "S'okay...you're doing so good..."

It was overwhelming—the fullness, the ache that felt like it might split you in two. And yet, beneath the pain, something else stirred. His words, soft and rough all at once, made the sensation bearable, turned the hurt into something else. You focused on his voice, on the way he stroked your hair, the way he held you like you were the most precious thing in the world.

"Why—mmff—gods..." you could barely speak, the words tangled in your throat. "Why do you have to be so big—"

A strangled laugh escaped him, though his eyes stayed shut tight, his jaw clenched—cock twitching inside you.

"I don't—fuck—know." His fingers brushed your lips, covering your mouth gently. "Don't go talking like that—not right now—"

You might have laughed, too, if your body wasn't so taut, strung tight with tension and pain and something far more profound. He was barely inside you, his words making your insides clench, drawing another groan from his lips at the squeeze.

His hand held your jaw, palm pressing lightly over your mouth, enough to breathe, to speak—

"Why—" you knew what he meant, knew the warning in his eyes, but you couldn't stop yourself. "—not?"

His breath hitched. "Because—" he swallowed hard, words coming through gritted teeth, his fingers tightening around your jaw, a warning in his grip. "Because—fuck—your mouth will get you in trouble."

Oh. That was what he meant.

"But—oh fuck—you're so...big..." the words slipped out before you could catch them, a disgruntled moan falling from your lips as he sank all the way in, filling you so completely it was dizzying. The pressure, the heat, the sensation of being pried open—it was all too much, and you cried out, unable to stop the sound from spilling out. "Ohhh—so big—"

"I said, fuck," he cursed, hand clamping firm over your mouth now as his body shuddered, as he ground his hips gently into yours. "—don't say that."

It was too late. You didn't need to say anything further. He could feel it—he could feel everything in the way you clenched around him, barely letting him move—so goddamn tight it was almost painful—he could feel it in the look in your eyes, in the trembling of your body beneath his.

"I can feel you thinking it," he grunted as you squirmed beneath him, every movement making him twitch inside you, drawing another choked groan from his throat. "Merlin sakes—"

You knew he wasn't used to this. To slowing down, to drawing out the tension like this, to the maddening slowness of every motion. He wanted to lose himself, to break you open hard and fast, to take and give and take again until both of you shattered into something unrecognizable. But he couldn't—not with the way your eyes glistened, not with the way you gasped and whimpered as he filled you.

"No talking," he sucked in a breath against your neck, his hips rolling into yours in slow, unbearable waves. "Only if you need me to stop."

He was breaking. So were you. Every thrust was an exquisite kind of torture—an ache that twisted and stretched, dulled only by the flick of his fingers against your clit. His lips pressed along your neck, kissed along the line of your jaw, groaning with each deep, patient push, carving his way into you as you clung to him, your mind floating through the fog of pain into something different—something overwhelming.

Your head fell back. “Oh—Oh gods—“

Each gasp felt like it might be your last as that something built deep inside you, tight and unfamiliar, an ache that didn't hurt but begged to be released. And he felt it too—Mattheo felt it, the way your body pulsed beneath his, the way you tightened around him like you couldn't bear to let him go.

"Bloody fuck—are you—are you going to—" his words were ragged, broken. He couldn't finish the thought, couldn't hold himself together. "Are you—"

“Mattheo—” your voice trembled, a breathless moan as your back arched, pressing into him, your body seeking more. The pain was null now, replaced by an overwhelming pressure, something tight and aching and good—you felt every inch of him inside you, every pulse of his cock as he moved, slow but relentless. “Mattheo—oh gods—”

"Fuck—" he bit down, teeth sinking into your neck as his fingers swirled your clit in rhythm with his thrusts. "You're gonna make me—"

You choked because there was no space for words, no breath for anything but the raw sound of your bodies—moans, gasps, ragged inhales tangled together as you both hurtled towards something inevitable. The light of the moon radiated the man above you and that was all you could register other than the rising crescendo of your climax—something so intense it scared you, almost broke you apart—your body seizing, trembling, as his fingers pressed harder against your clit, as he thrust deeper.

And then, there was only one more blink until you shattered beneath him, the orgasm tearing through you in oceanic motion, muscles clenching around him so tightly he could barely move—and then he was there, too, his body jerking as he groaned into your skin, his release ripped from him in jagged gasps as you milked him without mercy. He slumped on top of you, fingers digging into your skin, the two of you pulsing together in the aftermath, the room spinning, your bodies still trembling from the force of it.

The world was slow to return, the roar of sensations fading into something quieter, softer. The weight of him on top of you was grounding—his forehead pressed against the crook of your neck, his chest heaving as he caught his breath. Neither of you moved for a long while, just basked in the silence, kind that settled in after something irrevocable had passed between two people.

And then, Mattheo pushed up, enough to meet your eyes. Your chest ached at the softness inside his own.

“Are you—” he swallowed as he drank you in, the sheen of sweat on your skin, the flushed cheeks. His words hung in the air as if he didn’t know how to finish the question.

“I’m okay,” you nodded, voice hoarse. “I’m good.”

Mattheo nodded too but didn’t move, still buried inside you, just taking you in. Then, gently, he shifted, pulling back with a slow, careful movement that made you wince slightly. The second he’d pulled out, you felt different—more aware of the vulnerability you’d just laid bare, more aware of the line you two had just obliterated into absolute shambles.

“You sure?” he asked, a flicker of something deeper in his gaze—

You nodded again, the smallest smile pulling at your lips, though your heart was still racing, the enormity of it all sinking in.

“Yeah,” you whispered. “I’m sure.”

His jaw tightened, his hand brushing a strand of hair from your face, his thumb lingering on your cheek.

“This changes everything, doesn’t it?” His voice was barely audible, like he didn’t want to admit it out loud.

Of course he was thinking it too—how could he not? This was no longer something you could pretend didn’t exist, no longer something you could hide behind banter and stolen glances and secret kisses.

“Yeah,” you breathed, fingers tracing the line of his jaw, feeling the tension there, the heat still radiating from his skin. “It does.”

[kaciebello]

Selling my boyfriend •ᴗ•

Slytherin boys texts genre: humour warning: I don't think so note: sorry for any typos Masterlist Social media masterlist ☀

Tag list: @imobsessedwitholiviarodrigo , @klimovatereza-blog , @lafrone ,@enfppuff , @rafegfs , @frogtape , @lovelyygirl8 , @catiwinky, @anyam444 , @leeleecats , @ghostgardn , @reverse-soe , @ultramarinetovelvet , @iwishigotswallowed , @jazz-berry , @justatadbonkers , @partnerincrime0 , @schaebickel , @bunnyhopsstuff , @deluluassapocalypse , @adreamingpendulum, @harvey-malfoy, @helendeath

[bettymylove]

So, mattheo has been completely rotting my brain lately. Can we have him and bestie or girlfriend reader who is completely just overwhelmed with school or stressed out and he comforts her or helps her study?

no help needed

pairing: mattheo x bestfriend!reader

content: just pure fluff

a/n: I'm sorry this is more of a drabble, hope you still like it

"what are you thinking about?" mattheo finally broke the air of silence by asking the question but it seemed like all your attention was being given to the piece of parchment in front of you.

"nothing, matty" you answered mindlessly, but being your bestfriend he knew it was not nothing.

he had offered to help but you had refused saying that you were perfectly capable of doing it on your own.

you threw another crumbled up parchment on the floor and mattheo counted them to be six and now he was truly getting worried for you.

"you should really take a break y/n" his hand had stroking yours in a comforting manner, and you were almost in tears seeing how he had waited beside you patiently just because you couldn't do your homework.

seeing the tears, mattheo's heart broke he couldn't bear to see his favorite girl cry.

"are you okay?" he asked gently, and the dams broke after the question.

he pulled you in tight and covered you both with a blanket while you were busy wetting his sleve from your tears.

after a while, you had drifted off to sleep partially from the exhaustion and partially because of the rhythmic thumping mattheo had done on your back.

[apparentlytheproblem]

d a t i n g m a t h e o r i d d l e

fandom- Harry Potter

pairing(s)- matheo riddle

a/n: i had fun with this cause my boy is'nt even cannon and i've derived this from the show deadly class (its absolutley lovley) and im so sorry i deleted the request baby with love, tiya

requested- yes

warnings- unexperienced writer, not thoroughly edited

i think it would be a slowburn

i think it would take time for both of you to personally acknowledge what you both have

because Matheo Riddle is too high and mighty to have something as low and embarrassing as a highschool crush

my man will be in utter confusion why he wants to stare but looks away to act cool

like you both keep glancing at each other, for what?

y'all just ignoring each other just to avoid a zoo in your stomach

but like you know you're in love, you know he's in love, at this point everyone knows but y'all just don't admit it

because if you do, everything suddenly becomes to real

I have always had such an obsession with him

him, his face, his everything

his eyes are so pretty, they're just gorgeous and that freakin smile would just get me on my knees

I think even though he seems as the cold hearted bitch he's just so sweet to you

I've always had a thing for people who has a soft spot for me ugh

everyone hated him, loved him or wanted to be him

he was the it girl

I don't think he'd be much into playing quidditch as such

but he's pretty darn fit if i must say so myself

he'd be good in combat fighting

hence all the fights, but he'd be winnin my luv

he'd teach you how to play video games

he'd make you playlists and everything

once you both have reached that bond he'd be so obnoxious

he'd be loving, caring and everything

10/10 fr

he loves that everyone knows you're dating

this would be important as he gets jealous so easily

he's just yours and I love that

[suugarbabe]

[Chapter 9]

word count: ~4.6k

warnings: mentions of blood, mentions of torture, mentions of traumatic wounds, smut, oral (f!receiving), p in v

Mattheo picked up a vase from the table next to him, throwing it against the wall and  smashing it into a million tiny pieces. Pansy’s whole body jumped in her place on the couch, Draco squeezing her hand in comfort. “You’re scaring her, Cousin, she said she was sorry and she didn’t know what happened.” Mattheo was seething with anger, his words spitting out of his mouth like venom, “I don’t give a bloody fuck what she says she does or doesn’t remember or how fucking sorry she is. My girl is gone and she’s the only one who can tell us who possibly took her.” Mattheo turned his back to the pair now, dragging his fingers through his hair and tugging at his curls in frustration. 

“Well, there is a way for you to see, Matt,” Theo spoke up, giving Pansy a sorrowful look. Mattheo turned back around, Pansy nodding her head, “He’s right. Do it Matty. I can’t remember but it’s gotta be there.” Without hesitation Mattheo took out his wand, pointing it in the middle of Pansy’s forehead, “Legimens.” In a swirl of images Mattheo was thrust back into the club, the edges of his vision slightly hazy. He saw you in front of him, swaying to the beat with your eyes closed. You wore a cheshire grin and he could tell it was when you were talking to him. In front of you was Pansy, body moving similarly to the music. You laughed to yourself as Pansy did another twirl. Just as Pansy’s back turned, Mattheo saw a flash of red, it was like your body was falling in slow motion before a pair of arms wrapped around you, dragging you out through the crowd. 

Mattheo pulled back, stumbling back into the sitting room where the rest of the family was watching him intently. Everyone could see Mattheo’s expression darken, worry fitted on all of their faces, “What is it, Mattheo, what did you see?” Enzo was trying his best to stay calm but he was just as angry as Mattheo. Enzo didn’t have any siblings growing up and thus his relationships within the family were of max importance. Mattheo closed his eyes, speaking through gritted teeth, “Someone cast a spell at her. I’m nearly positive it was stupify because-”

“Because she stopped speaking to you mid-sentence,” Theo finished the sentence for him. Mattheo’s jaw clenched as he nodded. Pansy’s eyes started filling with tears once more, the guilt she felt intensifying with each passing moment that you were gone. She opened her mouth to speak once more when she suddenly heard your voice ring in her head, and by the looks of the others she wasn’t the only one. 1538 Woodbury Lane, London. 1538 Woodbury Lane, London. 1538 Woodbury Lane, London. Immediately Mattheo’s eyes met his cousins, Draco nodding in silent agreement, “Blaise and I will stay here with Pansy, you three go.” The next sound a simple crack as Theo, Enzo and Mattheo disappeared from the room. 

The space the three men apparated to was dark, emergency lights the only source of illumination around them. “Find her.” Two words were all the direction Mattheo gave as the three men started looking through the entire warehouse. Closets, old boxes, under machines were all scoured until Enzo walked into the the back room, breath catching in his throat, “H-here, oh bloody fucking Salazar, SHE'S IN HERE!” The sound of rushed shoes on pavement could be heard as Theo and Mattheo ran to where they heard Enzo’s voice, the latter boy already rushing to your body curled in on itself, wrist still chained against the back wall. Enzo got to you first, grabbing hold of your neck. His first two fingers immediately finding your pulse point, “She’s alive. Pulse is there, it’s strong.” He pointed his wand at the wall, the chain attached to you disintegrating.

Mattheo fell to his knees next to you, hoisting you up to a sitting position and pulling you into his arms. Your head was rolling, Mattheo holding your head in one of his large hands. “Princess,” he tapped your cheek lightly, voice strained, “Princess, can you look at me, please?” Your eyelids felt heavy, but they fluttered open, blurrily catching a glimpse of Mattheo as he held onto you. “M-matty?” Your voice came out horse, scratchy. “It’s me, Princess, don’t worry.” He looked at Theo and Enzo, both wearing looks of worry across their faces. Mattheo stood, holding your body close to his chest as he did so, “Theo take us back. Now.” Theo placed a hand on Mattheo’s shoulder, then Enzo’s. In a whirl the four of you were back at the manor, back in the sitting room where Blaise, Draco and Pansy were waiting. 

Pansy’s mouth was agape, tears starting to flow again at the sight of what had become of you in your absence. Mattheo started toward the foyer, you still in his arms, “Come, cousin, she needs your help.” At his words Draco moved immediately, the rest of the family following suit. At the bottom of the stairs Mattheo stopped, turning towards the group, “Just cousin. No one else.” Theo and Blaise let out a huff while Enzo mumbled a “like fucking hell” but Mattheo doubled down, “It’s not a negotiation. Just Draco. That’s it. The rest of you need to start planning.” Through her tears Pansy managed to finally speak up, “Plan for what?” Enzo gripped Pansy’s arm lightly as they watched Mattheo and Draco take you into the room, “Revenge.” 

In the room Mattheo quickly laid you down on the large bed, pulling Draco up to the side, “Check her. Do it now, cousin. Just like Aunt Cissy taught you.” Draco glanced over his shoulder nervously, clenching and unclenching his fists before giving a nod. He turned back to you, taking in the sight before him. Your breathing was shallow, but steady. He noted the dry blood on your chin and the edge of your mouth like you had been slapped or punched in the face. The dried blood that seemed to have dripped down your legs worried him as well. A large purple bruise was forming on your shoulder that looked like the heel of a boot. Draco closed his eyes, taking a shaky breath before nervous hands hovered over your body. He started at the top, near your head, just as his mother taught him. He concentrated his thoughts, slowly moving his hands over your body, “Cut lip,” he moved lower, “left collarbone broken,” he grimaced as he kept going, “ribs seven and eight on her right side cracked, right kidney bruised,” he moved down towards your legs, “seems just a few cuts and bruises, cuts are what the blood down here’s from.” Mattheo nodded solemnly, “So he didn’t…” 

“No, he didn’t,” your voice was shaky, but you knew what Mattheo was implying, “Just…heal what you can Dray, please.” A tear ran down your cheek as your bottom lip wobbled. Draco leaned down as he wiped  the tear with his thumb, a sad frown on his face, “S’gonna hurt a little, darling.” You nodded meekly, “I know, just…get it over with.” Draco nodded, standing back up fully and slipping his wand from his sleeve. He worked backwards this time, knowing your collarbone was going to hurt the worst to heal. Slowly the cuts started to close and heal, the bruises fading to small dark marks that would disappear in a day or two. He healed your ribs with one swift motion, the cracks healing with little pain much like a cramp. He healed the cuts from your lips and mouth next before pausing. “You ready for this last one, darling?” You nodded, closing your eyes in anticipation. Draco’s wand hovered over your collarbone, “Episkey.” The bone snapping back into place was loud, nearly drowning out your own whimper as you bit your lip to conceal how painful it really was. Silent tears slipped from your eyes, Mattheo quickly by your side to wipe them away. 

Draco chewed his lip nervously as Mattheo consoled you, “There’s one more thing, cousin.” Mattheo turned towards the blonde as you turned on your side, back facing them as your curled in on yourself once more into the covers, “What is it?” Draco peered over at you, grey eyes swirling with sorrow, “They…they used the cruciatus on her, like...a lot, Matty. From what I could feel I think more than one person used it on her at a time.” Mattheo closed his eyes at the information, not wanting to imagine you in that situation, how it must have felt for you. Draco continued, “There’s no healing I can do to take that away from her. You know better than any of us-” Mattheo cut him off, “I know.” Draco nodded, walking over to you once again. Draco leaned over you, placing a gentle kiss on your head, “I’m so sorry this happened to you, darling.” You turned to face him, grabbing hold of his wrist with a weak smile, “Thank you for healing me.” Draco huffed a laugh, “Not as good as you by any means, love.” But you shook your head, “Might give me a run for my money.” Draco smiled at you lightly, nodding to Mattheo as he left the room to leave you two alone. 

Mattheo rounded the bed on the opposite side of you. It was obvious he wanted to grab hold of you but wanted to respect however you were feeling, “What do you need, Princess? Do you want to be alone? Do you want me to go?” You slumped further into the bed, not making eye contact with him as you shook your head, “Don’t go. Will you…” You looked up at him almost shyly, “Will you hold me…please?” Your bottom lip trembled once more. Mattheo gently crawled into the large bed, shuffling under the covers to pull you close. You grabbed hold of him, grasping to whatever you could get your hands on like you couldn’t get close enough to him as the tears started to flow. Mattheo’s heart was shattering, squeezing you so close to his body he feared he might crush you but you relished in the pressure. Lips pressed to your forehead, he mumbled into your skin, “I’m not going anywhere anytime soon, Princess. I swear it.” With his reassurance, your body finally relaxed. Mattheo could tell when you finally fell asleep as your grip on his arm and around his neck went slack, however he still held you close. 

As you woke up hours later, you were still wrapped up in Mattheo. His scent enveloped you like the most delicious intrusion to your senses. You started to release your grip on him, needing to attempt to stretch away the soreness from everything that happened the night before. Mattheo was apparently already awake, hand sliding down your side as his eyes quickly gave you a once over. As his hand reached your hip you caught his wrist, breath catching in your throat at the memory of what now lay carved in your skin there. “Sorry,” his words came out sheepish but you only shook your head, “No, s’okay. M’just, sore.” Mattheo nodded, anger bubbling back inside his chest, “I get it.” He sat up then, giving himself a proper stretch before turning towards you. “Coming down for food with me?” You shook your head, pulling to covers back up to your chin, “Think I’m gonna stay here for a little longer…if that’s okay.” Mattheo nodded, leaning down and kissing your lips softly, “Course it is, sweetheart.” He stood from the bed, leaning down with his hands on the mattress as you turned to him, “The boys and I are gonna be in and out of the manor for a little while, but you know how to call me if you need me.” 

You met his eyes, tone flat as you asked, “You’re going out looking for him aren’t you. For…Damiano.” Mattheo closed his eyes at the name, but nodded. You leaned up, capturing him in a soft kiss once more. Mattheo grabbed hold of the side of your face, thumb brushing the apple of your cheek as he separated your lips. You laid back down as Mattheo made his way towards the door. He turned back once more before exiting, chest tightening as he saw you curl in on yourself again before closing the door behind him. 

The days that followed all blended for you. This was due to the fact that you hadn’t left Mattheo’s bed since that first night, the most to use the bathroom. But with how little you were eating, you barely had to do that either. Mattheo and the other boys were gone more than they were home. You knew when they were home because the door would creak open. You knew it was Mattheo, but every time you heard the door open the mark on your leg seemed to pulse and shame washed over you. Pansy came to comfort you often when the boys were gone, laying in bed beside you, rubbing your back as you sobbed. She never asked what happened, never asked for details. The first time she cried with you, apologizing and saying how it was all her fault. You held each other that night, cried together until you convinced her that if he had to, Damniano would’ve taken both of you that night, just to prove a point. 

Gimball would bring you meals, smiling sadly as he took the untouched plate from the previous when dropping off the next. After a few days he started changing what he brought you, making you special meals he thought you might be able to stomach versus what he was making for the rest of the family. “Please, Miss, just a few bites. Gimball make special, you don’t have to eat it all to help.” You started to comply slowly, if only for the fact that Gimball had also started begging for you to eat something and that made you feel slightly pathetic for pitying yourself so harshly. Gimball noticed you’d eat more when you thought the others were away or sleeping, therefore bringing you heartier meals at those times.

“Master Mattheo is very worried about Miss Birdie. Asks Gimball every day how she is,” Gimball rocked back and forth on his feet as you slowly ate the sandwich he had brought for you. “And what do you tell him?” you were curious how they were all perceiving you, how sad and helpless they thought you were. “Gimball tells Master she is strong at heart, but hurting in mind. Gimball tells Master that Miss Birdie just needs time.” You smiled at the elf, finishing the last bit of the sandwich and handing over the plate. Gimball bowed, giving you a small smile before disappearing with a crack. You laid back down against the pillows, trying to ease your mind now that your stomach was full. Trying to close your eyes without seeing his face the moment you tried to drift off to sleep. You were nearly there when you heard the shouting. 

The voices sounded panicked, shouting at volumes so high you heard it through the doors. You rushed to get up, knotting the silk robe tight around your waist before heading for the top of the stairs. Below the shouts became clearer. “The table, the fucking bloody table, get him up there!” Your pulse quickened, feet rapidly descending down the stairs before you even knew what they were doing. “For Salazar’s sake, Malfoy, hurry, there’s no way he’s going to last this long, you’ve gotta move faster, mate!” Your feet hit the foyer floor, nearly sprinting towards the voices now. Before you could get a look at who was on the table a pair of arms enwrapped you, pulling you back towards the stairs. 

“No, Princess. You can’t, not yet,” Mattheo’s voice was stern but you heard the concern laced within his tone. “Who is it? Who’s hurt?” you tried to push him off you but he just held you tighter. “We found him but I think he was expecting it, he had more people with him than we planned. He got away after he attacked us, ran away like a fucking coward.” You knew he meant Damiano. That they were close to catching him and doing what they wanted so badly to do to him. “Let me go, Mattheo. If he’s the one that did this let me help, I’m the one who could do it best.” Mattheo held on tighter, “S’too much, Birdie, you’ve been through enough already, Draco can handle it.” 

You shook your head, “Tell me who it is, I can tell Draco needs my help. Tell me who it is. Right now, Mattheo, is it Enzo again?” You peered around his arm, stretching your neck to catch any glimpse of those surrounding the table. You saw Pansy’s black hair, Blaise holding the table by someone’s feet. Draco’s platinum hair flashed in your vision as he moved from one side of the table to the other. As he maneuvered around whoever was hurt there was a brief moment where carmel eyes locked with yours and then you knew. You knew who was hurt, who lay dying on the table as Draco struggled to help heal him. 

You looked up, eyes locking with Mattheo’s, “Teddy? It’s Teddy?!” Mattheo didn’t respond, giving you all the confirmation you needed. You started thrashing in his grasp, desperately begging him to let you help. You knew he was just trying to protect you, just worried after what Damiano had put you through, but what Mattheo failed to realize was that not helping was doing more damage. With a final push Mattheo let go, your body rushing towards Theo’s where it lay bloodied on the table. You took in the scene before you, Draco frantically trying to work on the large, deep gashes on Theo’s torso and legs, but constantly having to stop as Theo’s mouth, and presumably his lungs, kept filling with blood from Merlin knows what spell was cast on him. 

Theo was in bad shape. You ran your hands along his neck, checking his pulse, your fingers slipping on the blood covering his skin any time you applied pressure. His left arm was clearly broken and whatever spell or spells that hit him left baseball size gashes all over his body, your hands ran along his skin, noting no dark magic attached to him. Turning off all emotion you started giving out orders, “Draco focus on his legs, one wound at a time, the same spells you used on me, okay?” He nodded, stepping aside and quickly getting to work. The sound of Theo beginning to gag again caught your attention, quickly waving your hand over his mouth to make the blood disappear. Enzo looked at you in shock. “Enzo if it happens again, take out your wand, wave it quickly and horizontally, sicco. You got it?” Enzo nodded, hand gripping his wand tightly in preparation. 

You turned forward now, hands hovering over Theo’s torso. Just as you instructed Draco, you hovered over each gash, one by one starting at Theo’s chest. You moved down his torso, healing the wounds on his side and stomach just as Draco was finishing up his legs. You could tell Theo’s breathing was starting to even out again, finally able to take full breaths. “Hold his shoulders Enzo, this parts gonna hurt him.” Enzo did as instructed, watching as your hands hovered over Theo’s arm. With a flick of your wrists everyone heard the crack as his bones snapped back into place. “Fanculo tutti, Uccellina! A cosa diavola serviva!” Theo groaned out, pulling his arm to his chest and rolling to his side. You pointed a finger at him, “Don’t you take that bloody tone with me, Theodore or I’ll break your arm all over again!” Theo merely groaned, lying back on the table with his arm covering his eyes. Your breaths were heavy, pushing Theo's hair from his eyes and placing a kiss on his forehead, "Amo tu fratello."

Walking away, Mattheo was quick to follow you. “Where are you going?” He was hot on your heels as you ascended the stairs. You stopped at the door, not to his room, but to yours. Turning towards him your face was blank as you spoke, “I’m going to wash my brother’s blood off my skin.” Speechless, Mattheo watched you walk into the room. He followed close behind, watching you walk into the bathroom. He stood by the door, observing as you undid your robe. That’s when he saw it, what you had been so ashamed of for the last week and a half, what you didn’t want him to see but was currently too lost in thought due to what just happened. The sun etched on your skin, just below your hip where you wouldn’t let him touch before. 

Mattheo waited on your bed for you. You had expected him to leave, to walk out when you had been so cold to him, but there he was, waiting at the edge of your bed. You walked towards him, towel tied around your body and hair wet. He didn’t speak until you were stood between his knees. “Why didn’t you tell me?” Your head tilted in confusion, only for your mind to be cleared when you felt Mattheo’s hand quickly slide under your towel to grip your hip, thumb pressing into the mark. His other hand gripped your chin, forcing you to make eye contact. “I’ll ask again, Princess. Why did you not tell me he did this to you?” You closed your eyes, tears threatening to spill. His grip on your face tightened, asking for your answer. “I was ashamed. I thought…I figured you wouldn’t want me once you knew.” Mattheo tsked his tongue, “Oh, Princess, we’ve been over this haven’t we? You think something like that would change things?”

A tear threatened to fall as he spoke again, “Tell me what you know to be true, Princess. Say it for me so I know you understand.” Your eyes met his, speaking on a shaky breath, “I’m yours.” Mattheo grinned slightly, “Again, like you believe it.” You spoke firmer now, “I’m yours.” Mattheo nodded, eyes flicking to your lips briefly, “One more time.” You watched as his tongue darted over his lips, your pulse quickening under his touch, “I’m yours, Mattheo.” You watched his mouth upturn into a smirk before you smashed your lips to his, taking him slightly by surprise. His hand grips the back of your neck as you climb onto his lap, deepening the kiss, turning it heated and passionate. As the kiss breaks you stare at one another, catching your breath. “I need you, Matty, please.” He was hesitant, not wanting to push your limits after all you'd been through, "You sure, Princess?" You nodded. Mattheo cupped your cheek, "I need words, pretty girl." You took a deep breath, "Yes, Mattheo, I'm sure."

At your words he lifted you up as if you weighed nothing, flipping you both around so you’re now lying down on the bed. He peppers kisses down your neck, the air in the room cool on your skin in his wake. His hands gently caress every inch of your skin, leaving a trail of fire in it’s wake. “Mattheo,” you moan, need evident in your voice. He chuckles, the sound sending shivers up your spine. His lips trail lower, making his way down your body until they reach your core. In one swift motion he flattens his tongue, giving a long, slow lick. Your back arched off the bed, body seeking more of him in such desperation, you can nearly feel him smirk between your thighs. 

Mattheo takes his time, worshiping your body with his tongue like you were his salvation, his lips singing your praises against your skin. “Please, Matty,” you beg, desperate for more of him. A whimper leaves your throat as he gives you what you crave, two fingers thrusting into you as he sets a pace that has your thighs trembling. Your fingers tangle in his curls, gripping tight and pulling him impossibly closer. He moans against you, the vibrations taking you to a new height of pleasure, each thrust of his fingers bringing you closer to the edge. Then his fingers slow, his mouth on your neck now before connecting your lips once more. His fingers hit that spot deep inside causing a mewl to leave your lips. 

You bury your face into his neck and make another noise. “S’okay,” Mattheo comforts, “ ‘ve got you, Princess. Al’right? M’right here, yeah? I’ve got you.” His thumb circles your bundle of nerves, figure eights causing your hips to buck as he whispers in your ear, “This all for me, Princess. Mine to play with. Mine to taste.” You whine, head nodding, “Yes, fuck, yes, Matty, all yours. Always yours. Forever.” Mattheo slowly pulled out his fingers, you whining at the feeling of loss inside you as you watched him suck his fingers clean before undoing his belt and freeing himself. He pushed your knees down, spreading you open and pinning your legs to the bed so you had nowhere else to go. Slowly he guided his cock to your cunt, watching as he eased into you, your walls swallowing him to the hilt. 

“Bloody fucking hell, look at that, Princess, feels good doesn’t it?” He grinned devilishly at your slacked jaw, breath catching in your throat as he began rocking into you. Your nails dug into his ribs, scratching down his skin. He hissed at the pain, hips snapping into you harder. His fingers dug into the flesh of your thighs, using them as leverage as he rammed his hips against yours. “Fuck, Matty, yes, please don’t stop,” you moaned, eyes fluttering closed as you grabbed onto him for dear life. “Uh, uh, Princess, eyes open, look at me,” he tutted, grabbing your jaw roughly, kissing you deeply and grinding his hips against yours, stimulating your clit perfectly. You gasped as you fell over the edge into your orgasm. Your walls fluttering around him had Mattheo following soon after. His lips trailed your neck lightly as he slowly pulled out, lying down on his back beside you. 

He slid an arm under your waist, pulling you into him. Your head settled on his chest comfortably, Mattheo’s fingertips trailing up and down your back lightly. You laid like this for a moment, enveloped in all that was him and all that you two were together. Mattheo was surprised when you broke the silence, not by the sound of your voice but by your words. “When you find him, don't kill him right away.” He made a noise of confusion, causing you to lift your head, chin settling on his chest to look up at him. “When you find him, because I know you will, don’t kill him right away. I want you to call me, have Theo or Enzo get me and bring me there.” Mattheo’s brows furrowed, a mix of anger and confusion written on his features, “Why the bloody fuck would I do that?” You pressed your lips to Mattheo’s skin, feeling his heartbeat beneath your lips before looking at him once more. 

“Because I want to watch him die.” 

[amongemeraldclouds]

so high school

you know how to ball, I know Aristotle

Mattheo Riddle x f!Reader (Modern AU)

Warning: fluff, no use of y/n

Author's note: I can't think of a good summary for this, but it's all about going on a motorcycle ride with Mattheo because he aced the test you tutored him for.

✿ Masterlist | TTPD Masterlist | 643 words

“Come on, pretty girl,” Mattheo said, handing you his spare helmet. You eyed it suspiciously, but held your hand out anyway, accepting it.

Your plan worked a little too well. Tutoring Mattheo was anything but easy, so to motivate him, you agreed he could get a reward each time he scored well on a test.

He said he would show you how to have fun. You smacked his arm and he promised he would be an honorable gentleman and keep things wholesome, unless you wanted more. To which you insisted, you did not.

Never mind the way your stomach fluttered when you were near him, or how your thoughts would get derailed when his arm brushed accidentally against yours. You knew better than to get involved with the resident troublemaker at your school.

You countered instead that fun looked like different things to different people. So if he showed you something he found fun, you’d also get to show him something you enjoyed. He shrugged his shoulders and agreed. Besides, if he got top marks in class, you’d receive a hefty bonus, which was more than enough of your savings goal for university.

That was how you found yourself rock climbing, racing cars, and now, your arms were tightly wrapped around his torso, hair flying in the wind, as he whisked you both away in his motorcycle.

After a while, you found yourself relaxing as you got used to the speed and found you enjoyed the rush as you cut through the air, cars and buildings blurring past you. There was something freeing about it and it certainly did not hurt to feel his toned body snug against yours.

You almost complained when he slowed down as you approached the beach. “So?” He asked, grinning as he took off his helmet. You were tempted to fix his helmet hair and run your fingers through his luscious locks, but held yourself back.

You couldn’t, however, stop yourself from mirroring his grin, adrenaline pumping through your veins. “Not bad, Riddle.”

He laid out a blanket he packed and you both settled in, listening to the waves, as the sun painted the sky a blend of red, orange, and yellow. You took a moment to breathe it all in, the salt air and the warmth of Mattheo beside you.

It was your turn to tell him all about the book you were reading about. You showed him how fun could also exist in far away realms with magic and dragons. How books were portals to these worlds where mysteries get solved and people find happy endings. Despite his initial eye roll weeks earlier, you found he was a great listener who seemed genuinely enthralled by your stories.

Little did you know it was because of you. Mattheo loved watching you come to life, the spark twinkling in your eye when you showed him something you thought was fun. You were a captivating storyteller. He could listen to you for hours and it would only feel like minutes. You always left him wanting more.

Your eyes could rival the sun and he wanted to kiss you then and there, but stopped himself. He watched your feelings bloom slowly with the way you had to pause when his arm ‘accidentally’ brushed yours. How you always seemed to have his favorite pack of candy around and you always leaned into him when you laughed.

He loved your laugh, and everything else about you. He was going to wait until your feelings grew to the point where you could no longer deny them. Then he would be honest. It had been a few weeks since he fell for you with the exact same approach he took with everything else in his life - fully and unapologetically.

When it was your turn to fall, he was ready to be a safe place to land.

✿ Masterlist | TTPD Masterlist

A/N: This is one of the least literal interpretation out of all my TTPD fics so far, but the song ‘So High School’ is just PERFECT for this vibe.

[alexander-arcturus-black-lupin]

Best Friends, Right?

Pairing: Matheo Riddle x fem!Reader (y/n)

Fandom: Harry Potter

Summary: You're in the common room studying and Matheo is so close. 

You were in the common room reading a book. Classes were out and you needed to relax. You were cuddling with Matheo. You were friends, best friends. 

Or atleast.  

That’s what you both told everyone, but deep down. No matter how to tried, you knew. You liked him. You like Matheo fucking Riddle. You don’t know how, when or what he did, but you had gained a crush on him. But the thing is, it was one sided. 

Matheo was with a different girl everyday. The boys joked that he changed girls faster than clothes. You didn’t want to ruin your friendship so you kept quiet. 

For a year.

Unbeknownst to you Matheo who you thought was having a nap had woken up a while ago. He noticed you’d zoned out. He straightened and pulled you closer, putting his nose in your neck. 

“Teo? Are you awake?” He said nothing as he continued holding you closer.He felt you lower your book and caress his cheek, “You’re really cute while you sleep, and pretty although i’ll never ever tell you this if you were awake” you played with his hair a bit then went back to your book. “Maybe that’s why I fell for you,” he froze. 

Maybe that’s why i fell for you

Soon you had put down your book (using your wand since any movement might wake up Matheo) and you laid back into him. His sleepy hands wrapped around you bringing you closer.

“You fell for me,” he mumbled into your neck. You froze. Shit. He was awake.

"What?" You feigned confusion.

"Don't play daft darling I heard you earlier," he mumbles, his gaze still on you. You had said that part outloud. He waits for an answer, his eyes roving over you.

"I- it's a silly crush i had a while ago, like a really really long time agao, it's not really something to think hard about, because like obviously you don't feel the same way so let's just ignore th-" Matheo rolls his eyes and you stop.

"Weren't you the one who said to stop assuming things," he drawls his voice low and husky. You furrow your brow. What?

"Teo, What am i assuming?" He comes closer, and closer till he's a hair breadth away.

"That I don't feel the same," your eyes unfocuse and a shaky gasp leaves your lips, your gaze drops to the lips you've been fantasising about since 5th year. "Speechless are we love?"

"But you, you're with a different girl everyday Teo, I'm not interested in being one of them," he tilts his head a slight smile on his face.

"The reason, I thought was quite clear since Enzo, Teddy, Draco and Pansy couldn't keep their mouth shut or their jokes to themselves." You're definitely confused now.

"Darling, the reason I'm with another girl everyday is because I'm hoping I might feel something for them, that I might love them, that I'd be released from loving someone who didn't look my way," he chuckles. "The first day we met, I introduced myself, hand stretched and everything, only for you to just drop your name and go back to your book, leaving me hanging," you chuckle remembering that day.

"I apologised didn't I"

"Yes, but you still made an impression, an impression that made me fall hopelessly in love with you," Matheo plays with your hand.

"But you never looked at me like that, or atleast I didn't know you ever looked at me like that, so the girls I went out with were a distraction from you,"

"You love me?-" you were cut off as he kisses you, his hands wrapping around your waist bringing you in, onto his lap. You lazyly kissed him back relishing in it.

"I say all that and you still have to ask," you smile and say nothing before laying your head im his shoulder breathing in his scent.

You just giggling and kiss him again, and again and again and again.

"I should be concerned about all the affection I'm receiving but strangely I'm not, Do you want to go for desert downstairs," Matheo says. "Consider it our first date, official date,"

"I'd like that,"

[deadghosy]

At this point I’m waiting on any more request towards the Slytherin boys of Harry Potter and Hogwarts legacy while I rest from writing. I like ideas from other people cause it feels amazing. So if you have any ideas of what I can write about like “reacting to Y/N doing/being/as” or anything as that I will do like platonic and romantic stuff. Possibly little silly headcannons and imagines. Sibling! Reader stuff as well. Hopefully I do see some cool things, but no pressure.

God bless anyone who sees this🫶🏾🎇

[slytherinslut0]

I CAN'T stop thinking about mattheo riddle with shy reader and edging nd overstimulation! please!!! 🥹

TAGS: 18+, smut, overstim, fingering/oral fem receiving, multi orgasm, begging, daddy kink (mattheo calls himself daddy (rightfully so), slight edging but heavier on the multi orgasm, dirty talk, praise kink.

well, anon, aren’t you so cute. begging for me so nicely like that hmm?🤭

Which is similar to what Matty would say as he’s kneeled in front of you, his fingers buried knuckle deep inside your cunt and thumb swirling over your clit—his movements slow, methodical, precise—since you’ve already cum twice and now he’s just teasing you for the fun of it, unable to pull away from you regardless of how much you squirm because your noises are just so fucking sexy and you’re so wrecked for him he’s never seen you look so beautiful.

“Matty, m’gonna—ohh—“

Your words are sliced by a whimper, your voice shattered cracked and fucking split into a million tiny pleasured pieces, back arching off the desk and eyes squeezing shut as he pumps you agonizingly slowly, his lips moving closer to your clit, teasing you with his breath until his tongue darts out to replace his thumb.

“That’s it, princess—give it all to me, baby..”

His words, muttered huskily against your dripping cunt, only add to your already mindblowing experience and the string inside you snaps in an instant, your third orgasm rolling through you so hard you damn near scream—and normally you’d be thankful that Mattheo had the presence of a mind to cast a silencing charm before all of this started, but at the moment you can’t find it in you to give a shit who the hell hears you.

You almost wished people could hear how fucking good he was making you feel—how fucking unhinged he'd driven you. You grip onto his hair so hard it feels like you’re trying to pry it from his scalp, your face burning and your body shaking. However, unfazed, Mattheo continues pumping and licking you through your high—only slowing slightly when your whimpers turn to pleas and you begin pushing him away.

He pulls his fingers out to lap up your release, and your ears ring, a shattered cry clogging in your throat. “Matty!—s’too much..t-too much—fuck…”

Both hands shift to your hips, gripping you tight and holding you in place as he mutters; “Mm—not yet..”

“Please—“ you moan, entirely against your fucking will, overstimulation making your head spin as you try to wriggle away from him but he doesn’t relent, determined to push you through it. “I—I can’t—Matty, I…ohhh…”

“Yes you can.” He grumbles against your cunt, the deep vibration of his voice making you gasp. “You can take it, for me…”

“Matty—“ your toes curl and your thighs clench around his head as he gives you a slow, languid, drawn-out lick before sealing his lips around your clit again and suckling gently. He’s attuned to your body, knowing exactly how to work you through overstimulation. “Mattheo—fuck—“

“That’s it…give me a little more, princess..I know you can…” he murmurs as he shifts his hold on you, palm pressing down on your pelvis, other hand moving back to tease your core again, gently pushing a finger into you while swirling over your clit. “You taste so fucking good…don’t wanna’ stop…”

Your head rolls back the second he eases his finger into you, clenching hard around it as he gently pumps in and out—dragging at your walls, pushing into the knuckle and curling slightly—everything he knows will drive you utterly fucking insane.

“Gods! Mattheo! fuck—“ oxygen was no longer in the room and you weren’t even sure if it existed anymore at all, unable to focus on anything other then his ministrations, his tongue rolling over your clit. “I-I-can’t—I can’t cum again—s’too soon…s’too much…”

“Shh, I got you…you’re okay, princess…” he cooes into your cunt, kissing at your clit as if attempting to soothe you, his breath warm and his voice low. Slowly, he adds a second digit inside you, his fingers curling just right to keep building the pleasure with an agonizing, deliberate slowness. “Daddy’s got you, baby…”

“Matt—“ there’s an edge to your voice now, frustrated and overwhelmed, your words tangling with the sheer intensity of the pleasure coursing through you. You don’t know what to do with it all, your hands shifting to clutch at the desk beneath you, knuckles cracking with the force of your grip. “It’s so fucking much, Matty—m’so sensitive—“

“I know, baby…” he mumbles, eyes fixed on his fingers disappearing into your soaked, aching cunt. You were one hundred percent certain he had no idea what you just said until he proves you wrong. “I know you’re sensitive, princess…but you’re doing so good f’me…”

And before you can even consider a response his lips are back on you, sealing around your clit and turning your vision blank—your hands shooting into his hair as though it could somehow ground you to reality—even though you knew you were long, long past that.

You can't control a single noise leaving your throat at this point. You're at the mercy of Mattheo Riddle—every swirl of his tongue and slow thrust of his fingers sending sparks shooting through every last nerve ending in your system. You're caught between pushing him away and bucking your hips toward him for more. Your brain is a scrambled mess, unable to effectively decipher and relay what it is that you want or need.

“M-Matt-y…G-gods!…”

Your fourth orgasm charges through you without mercy. You're gasping, whimpering, moaning, and crying out his name—all in a frequency barely coherent. Mattheo grins against your cunt, eagerly chasing your release, holding you tight as you squirm and shake, groaning against you as he relishes every last noise you make.

"That's it, baby...mm, good girl.." he coos through a choked groan, unable to get enough of how deliciously you break for him, how perfectly responsive to him you are. "Always so fucking good f'me..."

He pulls his fingers out slowly, the slick sound of your arousal filling the room until his groan overpowers it when he draws them into his mouth. He meets your eyes from between your thighs and you whimper, still twitching from the aftershocks—your body a trembling mess of overstimulated nerves.

“Look at you,” Mattheo's gaze never wavers, dark and hungry, as if he's already plotting how to bring you to the brink again. His fingers slip from his mouth with a soft pop, and he leans in to place a tender kiss on the inside of your thigh. “So fucking pretty…completely wrecked just f’me..”

Coming down from your high, a wave of embarrassment crashes over you as you realize the absolute mess you've made. Mattheo did a good job of containing it, but you can feel your wetness soaking the desk beneath you and the thought of meeting his eyes becomes almost unbearable. You whinge as he leans in, giving your pussy soft kisses, your hands shooting up to hide your face from him.

“Hey…hey…don’t look away from me..” he murmurs almost instantly, his voice deep and firm but soft and low. He softly nips at your inner thigh, planting gentle kisses over your mound as he trails to the other. One of his hands reaches up to remove your hands from your face. "Why are you getting shy on me, baby...hm? You embarrassed of the mess daddy's made of you?"

“Matty…” you whine, still trying to look away from him until he shifts his hand to your jaw and forces your eyes to his. “Please..”

“I’ll make you messier, princess…” he mutters, holding your gaze as he presses another kiss to your swollen clit. “I think you’ve got a few more in you.”

His fingers gently part your folds, testing your sensitivity with a deliberate slowness designed to provoke your rawest reactions. You groan, your back arching involuntarily, a helpless response to his touch. Your hands instinctively fly up to your face again, attempting to shield your embarrassment—but he intercepts them with a firm grip, pinning your wrists against your chest with one of his strong hands.

“No hiding, baby…I wanna’ see you…wanna’ see you break f’me…” he coaxes tenderly. “So perfect…pussys’ so perfect…”

His thumb finds your clit, circling it slowly, while his fingers continue their maddeningly slow movements, toying with you, enjoying the sounds of your arousal. His praise and possessiveness works to chip away at your embarrassment, though your face burns as you moan again.

"See? Nothing to be shy about," he murmurs, his lips brushing against your thigh. "You're perfect just like this, falling apart for me…fucking love seeing what I do to you..."

[kaciebello]

Hiii

Can you write slytherin boys with reader being their girl best friend and her tampon string breaks in her and she ask them for help! (Either as a prank or serious)

Thank you pookiiiee

Tampon string breaks

Slytherin boys texts genre: humour warning: none note: this one was so funny, thank you! Masterlist Social media masterlist ☀ Prompt list ☾

Tag list:  @klimovatereza-blog , @lafrone ,@enfppuff , @rafegfs , @frogtape , @lovelyygirl8 , @catiwinky, @leeleecats , @ghostgardn , @reverse-soe , @ultramarinetovelvet @jazz-berry , @justatadbonkers , @partnerincrime0 , @schaebickel , @deluluassapocalypse , @adreamingpendulum, @imobsessedwitholiviarodrigo , @happydragonfrog , @harvey-malfoy , @helendeath , @caffeine-addict-slug , @mrvlfanman

[sunkissedscribbles]

Prejudiced - Chapter Eleven

this is only a part of the series, the previous and next chapters can be found here 

a/n: i'm literally in love with this one

word count: 1748

tw: not proofread, maybe swearing? mention of sex, cassie's mental health, usage of alcohol

summary: the yule ball. i don't do spoilers<3

<previous chapter          next chapter>

dividers by @chachachannah

✰ "Can I have this dance?"

Ki and I get ready to the ball together, in her room. I'm messing with the makeup, having no talent for it while she's putting the snake-like belt on her dress. We've done both of our dresses – or at least we bought the dresses themselves, a dark green dress for Ki and a lapis-coloured one for me. But they were so plain like that, and we needed to get our attention off the current conflict with the Slytherin boys that we decided to do something extra. So, I made a slit on her shiny dress on the left and she got two snakes slithering down her arms made from a metal-like, stiff material, the same as it is around the waistline of the dress with some mesh attached to it. My dress is made from a heavier material, the skirt part has two layers so it doesn't hug my body as Kiara's does hers, and we made stars on the top area out of glue rhinestones, and I also made opera gloves out of mesh almost the same shade of blue as the dress.

I can still barely believe what they've done, especially Enzo. But for some reason, Mattheo's behaviour bothers me as well, almost just as much. I might be overreacting but try to look at it with the eyes of girls.

Not that they haven't tried apologizing – they have, but what do they expect after what happened? This is a really messy situation and it didn't necessarily have to get to this point. It was the other day when Ki and I were ready to practically burn everything that reminded us of the boys. She found me in my room, throwing shirt after poster on the floor, but she then joined almost immediately, throwing Theo's spare Quidditch hoodie on the pile on the floor. It was just when I took the necklace I got from Enzo for my birthday off the jewellery rack when the boys interrupted our seance to apologize. Theo started, talking mostly to Ki.

Then Enzo tried, but he didn't quite tell the real reason behind his game. But I haven't even looked at Mattheo, so he hasn't tried apologizing, probably feeling too guilty to.

I look at my reflection in the mirror; my skin looks weird with the foundation on. I don't like it. I can't help my gaze wandering to the sweetheart neckline, the fabric held up by two spaghetti straps on each side. My shoulders still look too broad, I state to myself as a mental note, trying to make it look better by moving my hair around but it doesn't do much. My gaze drops to my arms, my biceps and triceps looking too masculine in this light and I can't help but want to cover up. I should've bought a suit.

"God damn," my gaze shifts to Kiara, taking in her appearance in the mirror. "You're gorgeous," I compliment my best friend. This dress hugs her curves perfectly, and the corset top with the deep cleavage it has only compliments her advances. Not to talk about the belt and the layer of mesh that accentuates her waistline. I can't believe she doesn't see just how beautiful she is.

"I'm nowhere compared to you," she smiles at me, a bit disappointed and I stand up and shake my head.

"Don't compare us. No one's perfect," I sigh, instinctively reaching to fidget with the Cassiopeia necklace around my neck – which I have taken off, I realize. It's up in my dorm, in a box under my bed. As I remember how pissed I was at myself for not getting Enzo anything more, well... expensive I can't help but see the disappointed expression of the boy when he saw it on top of the pile the other week.

As Ki and I just stare at each other, I realize, I should be excited because of the ball, shouldn't I? Like, this entire year is just so intriguing with the Triwizard Tournament and all – but I'm not looking forward to the ball now that I'm practically half an hour away from it; I feel uncomfortable in my skin, want to change into some jeans and a big t-shirt and be left alone. Everyone's gonna be laughing at me. They're gonna talk behind my back.

"I was so excited when we bought the dresses," I mutter.

"Me too," Ki sighs and as she sits down on her bed I follow suit, staring at ourselves in the mirror. The sight's depressing; two girls sitting in their best dresses with displeased and uncomfortable expressions on their faces.

"You haven't thought we'd end up like this, have you?" I mutter and she shakes her head.

"No."

"Wished someone would ask you to the ball?"

Her eyes darken as she nods, "Yeah."

After a few seconds of silent fidgeting, she speaks up again. "Got wine."

"Give me some."

The opening dance is chaos because of the Potter-Patil duo but at least it's fun to giggle at with the alcohol coursing through my veins. I can't help my gaze wandering over to the boys during the night, but I see Enzo vanish at some point. How surprising...

Ki and I somehow end up in the company of Pansy Parkinson, Daphne Greengrass and Millicent Bulstrode, who are insisting on playing truth or dare, and when Pansy dares Kiara to ask Mr Harper for dance is when I lose sight of my best friend because I can't possibly look at her awkwardly and desperately trying her best to convince or bribe our teacher to dance with her when Pansy's neck looks so rippable.

He's just not the perfect match for her.

I stand outside the castle, trying to list off the things I sense as I feel disassociated again. Maybe the loud music, the uncomfortable feeling I have weighing down on me since putting the dress on and feeling like I have to suck my stomach in, or the effects of the wine leaving my body. Or maybe I'm just tired. Overwhelmed, or confused. The problem is, I have too much on my mind and on my heart to even make out what this all is.

I'm slightly panicked because nothing feels real, again. Then there's the thing that no one has asked me for a dance; I've been standing in a corner all evening, sometimes shifting my weight from one leg to the other, or trying to crack my back. Not even the brash Cormac McLaggen has tried to shoot his shot. Maybe I really am invisible – but haven't I been wanting that all this time? For people to forget about me for a bit, to not be the centre of the rumours all the time since I've been friends with Mattheo?

Now I really got it.

And yet again, pretty isn't pretty enough.

"You're gonna catch a cold," a familiar voice speaks up behind me, making me freeze for a second before turning around.

Mattheo looks into my eyes with guilt shining in his, and a hand offered to me. I look down at it with the cold eyes of a mistrustful cat and then back up at his face. For a moment I think he's going to pull his hand back but he proves me wrong, taking a cautious yet definite step towards me. "Can I have this dance?" he asks with a hopeful and gentle tone and it actually feels nice to have him ask me to dance.

I finally nod and he takes my hand with a slight yet victorious smile and leads me back inside the castle and into the Great Hall. I first stiffen up when he places a hand on my waist but then try to calm myself down when his other finds mine and starts to lead me in a slow dance. My heart nearly stops at the thought that I'm actually experiencing this, and I soon get comfortable enough to look Mattheo in the eyes, searching those gorgeous, gorgeous brown irises.

"You look beautiful," he says quietly in a calm yet sincere tone and I don't have to try to believe him. He spins me around and I smile lightly as my hand ends up in the same position in his again after the full 360 degrees of a turn, as if they were designed to be like that, perfectly fitting together. He pulls me closer and his other hand travels onto the small of my back as he speaks truthfully, apologetically, "I was an idiot for making that bet, I know. And I don't expect you to trust me again as much as you have before, but you must know that the thought of taking your Kiara to bed has never ever crossed my mind. I'm not that big of a prick. And I had no idea you were in Enzo's book either."

I listen to what he has to say intently. I know he's telling the truth, and I know I should've listened to him sooner. Let him say what he had.

"All I have to say is that I'm really, really sorry. If I could I'd take it all back and turn time back. Do it differently because our friendship means more than a stupid bet," he pulls me even closer and I rest my chin on his shoulder with a small yet contended smile.

Suddenly, 'Pictures Of You' by The Cure starts playing and I lift my head. I can see the smirk on his lips, even if I don't look at him directly. "This is Muggle music," I frown.

"Yeah, I listen to The Cure," he chuckles and I look back into his eyes.

I smile half-heartedly but my heart yet again seems to skip a beat, "It's your doing, isn't it?"

"Maybe," he grins, but it's not the obnoxious one. It's the one that says 'I admire you' as his eyes shine brighter than a starry night sky, purer than the freshly fallen snow. Now I'm the one pulling him closer as I rest my chin on his shoulder again and my arms slither around his rest around my waist.

We still haven't talked about the kisses we've shared before but maybe it's better left like that for tonight. Because this moment is to be remembered forever. Because it's perfect.

✰ There was nothing in the world that I ever wanted more  Than to feel you deep in my heart

tag list: @inksoakedparchment @mqstermindswift @reys-letters @girllblogging777 @yelanare

[mastermindmiko]

Hi! Hope you're well! I was hoping you could make a Matteo Riddle ×Fem!reader? Something with some angst but it's completely up to you!

Secret

Pairing: Matteo Riddle + Reader

Word count: 1023

Summary: You and Matteo keep your relationship a secret

Warnings: swearing and mentions of bullying.

Hey! If you think this didn't completely suck, feel free to check out my masterlist.

Thank you sm for requesting! Hope you like it

"Hush, someone could hear us and then come see us, and that is bad." I scold him, but he just continues to look at me with a fond smile on his lips. Even after dating him for so long, the action still brings butterflies into my stomach.

I blush, then look away. I hear him chuckle before feeling his long fingers grab my chin and make me look at him. He presses a sweet kiss to my lips, and then mumbles, "I really don't care if someone sees us."

"Well, I do." I reply, barely thinking with the way he's kissing me. He hums, "I guess then it matters to me."

It's things like this that make me believe that matteo is not in any way like his father, despite what I initially thought and everyone else believed.

I begrudgingly part away from him, and say, "I have to go."

"No..." He groans and holds my waist tighter. He pulls me close to his chest, but I resist by pushing against it. I try, "I'll see you tonight. I have to get to lunch, or else Harry will be suspicious."

"Fine."

I head to lunch and matteo, and I part ways. It always hurt knowing that I couldn't share my relationship with my closest friends. However, it was for the best.

"Where were you?" Hermione says as soon as I'm close enough to the Gryffindor table. Harry and Ron pipe up to look at me like meerkats, both giving me a smile. I smile back and sit beside Hermione.

I don't get a chance to answer because Harry starts nearly growling when he sees Malfoy and his goons approaching, and with them, my boyfriend.

I resist smiling and start to pile up some food on my plate, staring at the table instead of at my gorgeous man. My eyes betray me as they try to sneak a glance of him to find him already looking at me. He shoots me a quick wink, which turns me into a tomato.

Malfoy sneers, "Ready to lose, Potter?"

"In your dreams, Malfoy." Harry counters, and Malfoy turns to Ron, deciding against saying that he's poor again. His gaze moves to hermione, deciding that the mud blood insult has gotten old, and then it lands on me.

"It wouldn't be hard losing with such a chit chaser -" Malfoy starts, but matteo clears his threat, and all of a sudden, Malfoy shuts up, returning to insulting Ron and Hermione instead.

That was weird. Unless...I was going to kill Matteo. I frown, shot him a glare, and he frowns, too. Malfoy eventually gets tired of teasing us, and he leaves.

We all return to lunch like normal, but I can tell that Harry was feeling anxious about tomorrow's match. I reassure him, "Don't worry, little brother. We're going to beat their asses."

Harry grins, but it then drops after Ron decides to say, "It was weird... the way Malfoy didn't keep insulting you."

"Maybe he has a crush." Hermione teases, and I feel myself get disgusted by the thought of it. I gag, and my friends laugh. Ron decides it's funny enough to keep going, "If anyone had a crush on her, it's Riddle, notice how he never aims any bludgers at her."

My eyes go wide, but I let out a nervous chuckle in order to hide my nervousness. I told matteo that that would raise suspicions. A few months ago, I even told him to hit me specifically, but of course, he refused.

The subject gets dropped, though, after a couple of laughs. I continued on with eating until I saw Matteo leave the Great Hall, messing up his hair. It was our signal. I stand up abruptly and then say, "I'll be back."

I rush out of the Great Hall and head to where I already know Matteo is heading. The room of requirement where we meet when we want to spend extended durations of time together.

I enter the room, and Matteo has his back to me. He's sorting through some books probably picking which one we're going to read together tonight. I shout, "Matteo fucking Riddle!"

He stills, his whole body turning rigid, slowly turning to face me. I fold my arms in front of my chest and glare at him. He grins anxiously and says, "Sweetheart?"

"Don't sweetheart me! You told your friends about us." I say, and his face turns guilty, so it was true. He takes a few steps close to me and explains, "This way they can stop bullying you."

"Them not bullying me has caused my friends to be suspicious." I say with anger. He frowns deeply and takes a few more steps closer to me until he can take my hands in his. I don't resist the action his hands are really soft.

He whispers, "Would it be so bad if they knew?"

"Yes, we wouldn't be able to be together then." I say, and feeling the anger drift away and the sadness seep in. Matteo sighs, "Maybe they would understand."

"They won't. You don't know what they say about when you're not there. It breaks my heart, but I can't lose them -" I say and cut myself off at the end. He sighs, "If they really love you, they would understand."

"I don't want to risk losing them-or you." I say, then meet his eyes to continue, "The thought of losing you scares me."

"And it terrifies me, but we can't go on like this-"

"I promise I'll tell them, I don't know when, but I will." I say, every time he brings this up, I feel like it's the end, every time I hope that it isn't.

"That's enough for me." Matteo says slowly. He gives me a small smile and then presses a quick kiss to my lips. He pulls me in for a hug, and I hug him as tightly as I can without suffocating him.

He parts then presses a kiss to my forehead. I really love him, but I'll tell him that another day. He says, "Let's go read a book, huh?"

a/n: I really don't know a lot about Matteo, but from what I know, this is how I imagine him being. I hope I did him justice.

[stargirlv0id]

Surprise, Surprise.

pairings: Mattheo Riddle x F!R

synopsis: You were walking home, when suddenly it starts raining and you enter a vacant pub.

warnings: flirting; sexual innuendo; no SMUT)

a/n: english isn't my first language, sorry for any mistakes

A harsh gust of wind hits you, rain soaking your clothes as you scramble into a pub that's vacant due to the storm warning you'd ignored. You wonder if the bartender saw it, and if that's why he's likely tucked away in his home, warm and not drenched by rain— *unlike you.*

You sigh in relief as you shut the door behind you and take in the heat of the building. Maybe this isn't so bad—

"You're not supposed to be in here." Mattheo's voice rings out, sending a chill down your spine.

"Umm. What?" You turn, surprised.

He raises an eyebrow skeptically at you as he steps closer, his gaze flickering over you like an inspection. "It's past closing time," he says, his tone flat and unimpressed, as though you should have known that already.

"Oh. I'm sorry. I just wanted to escape the storm." You frown. His expression softens a tad at your excuse, but he doesn't look convinced.

"You shouldn't be out in weather like this anyway," he scolds, folding his arms across his chest.

"I was taken by surprise, actually. I was heading home and the storm came." You answered rapidly, wanting to sound believable. You weren't lying, but you could tell he wasn't an easy person to convince.

He studies you for a moment, his gaze lingering on the way your clothes stick to your body, your hair damp and clinging to your face. It's a look full of scrutiny, as if evaluating whether your excuse is valid.

Then, finally, he turns his attention to the downpour outside, the rain hitting the windows harshly. "It's coming down hard," he admits, his voice somewhat softer. "Yeah." you nodded in agreement.

You smile softly . "I'll leave soon, I promise."

Mattheo's lips twist into a subtle smile as he considers your promise, but it's hard to tell whether he truly believes it. "You better," he says, his voice holding a hint of skepticism.

His eyes continue to linger on you, studying your face for a few more seconds before he breaks his gaze away and heads over to a small fireplace. "You should sit down. Unless you want to stay wet, and cold?" "Sure." You sit, your body craving warmth.

As you settle down, you notice that the pub is small and cozy, the crackling of the fire adding a touch of warmth to the atmosphere. Mattheo busies himself with tending to the fire for a moment before he eventually takes a seat across from you, his eyes never leaving your figure.

There's something about the way he looks at you—it's intense, captivating almost. You can't help but feel a bit self-conscious as his gaze lingers on you, as though he's trying to figure you out.

"You work here, right?" You ask, breaking the silence.

"Yeah," he replies, his voice still holding that same hint of skepticism from earlier. He leans back in his chair, his arms resting on the armrests as he studies you.

"What about you? What brings you here at night, and in the middle of a storm?" he asks, arching an eyebrow inquisitively.

"I just came from a friend's house." You reply, Mattheo nods in understanding, the skeptical look slowly fading from his eyes. "Must be a close friend if you stayed there past dark," he observes.

You nod, not wanting to reveal too much to a stranger.

He seems to sense your hesitation, but instead of pressing further, he simply leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he continues to regard you. He's silent for a while, his gaze flickering over you as though still trying to figure you out.

After a few moments, he breaks the silence. "How do I know you're not some dangerous criminal or something?" he asks bluntly, a hint of amusement in his voice. "I should be the one asking you that." You smirk.

Mattheo smirks, amused by your response. "Touché," he concedes, a hint of humour in his voice. "Maybe I should frisk you, just to be sure," he teased, a glint in his eye.

"I can't say that i would mind that." You shrug.

Mattheo's eyes flicker with surprise, not expecting you to flirt back. He raises an eyebrow, his smirk deepening. "Is that so?" he asks, his voice lower than before.

He leans back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest, his gaze lingering on you with newfound interest. "And why is that, princess?"

You raise your eyebrows "Wanna find out?"

Mattheo's smirk widens at your bold response and he leans forward slightly, his eyes locked on yours. "Maybe I do," he says, his voice dropping to a near whisper.

He watches you intently, his gaze roaming over your figure once more before he speaks again. "You sure you want to test my limits?" His words makes you smile and his eyes flicker with amusement at your lack of retreat from his challenge, and he lets out a low chuckle that rumbles in his chest.

"You've got quite the attitude, pretty girl," he murmurs, his voice laced with a hint of desire.

"Maybe i should learn to behave." you said.

"Maybe you should," he agrees.

He moves then, his tall frame crossing the space between you in just a few strides. He stops in front of you, towering over you as he looks down at you with a mixture of desire and curiosity.

"You think you can handle someone like me, princess?" he asks, his voice low and rough.

"It wouldn't hurt to try." You bite your lip. His gaze flickers to your lips as you bite them, a low growl slipping past his own lips in response. "You like playing with fire, don't you?" he teases, his voice slightly hoarse.

One of his hands moves to your chin, his cold fingers gently yet firmly tilting it up, forcing you to meet his gaze.

"You've got guts, that's for sure," he muses, his thumb gently tracing the contour of your bottom lip, sending a jolt of electricity through you.

He steps even closer, his body mere inches from yours, his presence overwhelming and intoxicating. He leans down, his breath ghosting against your ear as he speaks.

"Or are you all bark and no bite, princess?"

"Oh, I'll be to bite." You smile.

Mattheo lets out a low, guttural laugh at your response, his eyes darkening. "I look forward to it," he murmurs, his hand still holding your chin firmly in place.

He leans in, his nose almost touching yours. "But remember," he whispers, his breath hot against your skin. "I bite back."

"That's what im counting on."

[sslytheringirl]

Can I request a Mattheo Riddle X Y/n Malfoy

Perhaps Draco and Mattheo are good friends and Draco finds out that him and Y/n are secretly dating and he is possessedddddd

Omg that is a really good idea I was so excited writing it.💚

Nickname: Matty

Mattheo and I were in class, Draco was sitting next to me on one side , Mattheo on the other.

Mattheo started to put his hand on my thigh going higher and higher as he reached the fabric and rubbed it.

I slammed my head on the desk , the pleasure is killing me.

“Y/n are you ok , do you have a headache.”

He rubes faster

“Yes Draco, I’m fine.”

The bell rings

I move Mattheo’s hand away and leave to my dorm.

Mattheo & Draco pov

“Do you think Y/n is ok.”

“I’m sure she is just fine.”

“No Mattheo what if she is hurt ,I’m going to check on her.”

I walk over to Y/n room and knock on the door.

She answers , let’s us in. “Y/n are you ok I just want to check in on you because you did not look ok earlier.”

She turns bright red and looks at Mattheo.

I go to Y/n phone to check the time , I see Mattheo and her kissing as the background.

Y/N WHAT THE FUCK , WHY IS MATTHEO KISSING YOU!!!

Y/n pov

“Draco I don’t know what to say, we were going to tell you.”

He comes up to me and pinned me to the wall, yelling I’m my face.

“Y/N HOW DARE YOU.”

He slapped me across the face that’s when Mattheo came , he was furious with Draco.

Mattheo came up to him , slammed him against the wall.

“DRACO DON’T YOU DARE TOUCH HER LIKE THAT.”

“Guys stop.”, I stand in front of Mattheo so he stop’s yelling.

“Y/n when did you start dating Mattheo.”

“8 months ago.”

“Why did you not tell me.”

“You slapped me when you found out , that’s why I didn’t tell you.”

“I’m just mad that you didn’t tell me.”

“Please apologize to Mattheo.”

“Don’t apologies to me apologies to Y/n.”

“I’m sorry both of you I overacted.”

“It’s ok Draco we forgive you.”

As soon as Draco left , Mattheo and I cuddled in bed he creased my cheek, “I’m sorry he hit you my love.”

“It’s ok he was just upset.”

“I love you Matty.”

“I love you more princess.”💚🖤

[dontsearchformyaccount]

Riddle x Animagus!Marie

In the heart of a forest deep and green,

Lies a creature rarely seen.

With fur as soft as morning dew,

And eyes that sparkle like the sky's true blue.

Marie is her name, a riddle master bold,

In her furry paws, mysteries unfold.

She roams the woods, with a twinkle in her eye,

Challenging travelers as they pass her by.

"Answer me this," She'd say with a grin,

"Before you continue on your journey thin.

What has keys but can't open locks?

And speaks without a mouth, yet never talks?"

Those who dare to take on her quest,

Must put their minds to the ultimate test.

For Maries riddles are cunning and sly,

But those who solve them, reach the sky.

So if you find yourself in a forest so grand,

And encounter Marie , ruler of the land,

Embrace the challenge, and give it a try,

For in the world of riddles, you just might fly.

[fennaisreal]

I NEED MORE FLUF. I NEED MORE ANGST, I NEED TO FEEL LOVED. I NEED TO FEEL MY HEART BREAKING.

I’M TIRED OF SMUT, I WANT TOOTH ACHING FLUFF AND HEART SHATTERING ANGST.