#Tatted up Mattheo Riddle

[mommynott]

Let’s show some love to Mattheo too 🫢

I’m a Theo girlie, I’m a Theo girlie…

[prythiansprincess]

— a taste of the divine.

NAVIGATION // inbox. tags. writing. library. moodboard.

pairing: mattheo riddle x reader.

song inspiration: the summoning by sleep token.

author’s note: vampire! mattheo has been on my mind for ages and now i've finally written something so hedonistic and self-indulgent solely inspired by the fact that the man looks good drenched in blood. sink your teeth in.

Everything in the world is about sex — except sex. Sex is about power. 

At an early age, you learned how to wield your sexuality like a weapon. After working as a courtesan for as long as you have, you quickly realized that men were truly only capable of categorizing women in one of two ways: the Virgin: an embodiment of purity, innocence, and virtue or the Whore: an incarnation of seduction, manipulation, and promiscuity. 

To be desirable, you were expected to walk a fine line and maintain a perfect balance between the two. Lean too close to the right and you’re classified a prude. Swing too far to the left and you’re labeled a slut. The difference lies in whether or not you know how to play the game. 

Given your line of work, it was in your best interest to become a top player. According to the Madam, you had a gift when it came to enticing clients. In reality, you were merely observant. The ability to accurately read people was a necessity in the game of seduction. 

To seduce someone, you need to know their dreams, their hopes, and most importantly, their desires. Most clients were motivated by a fantasy. It was your job to become that fantasy and you were quite good at your job. 

Ironically enough, the Madam always said that there were only two types of clients. The majority sought after instant gratification; a quick fuck, a one night stand, a memory to get himself off to while he lies next to his wife longing for the glory days of when his cock still worked. They were easier to please. The latter, on the other hand, proved to be a little more difficult. The naive ones that believed in silly fairy tales like making love, sighing dreamily about romance and intimacy and connection while inevitably setting themselves up for disappointment. 

You were more realistic. For you, sex has always been tit-for-tat. You never offered more than you received. Until Lord Riddle. 

You should have known Mattheo was trouble from the moment you laid eyes on him.

The first thing that you noticed about the young lord is that he preferred his own company. Every time you came across him in the Underworld, he was always alone. Mattheo never interacted with the other clients. Not out of shame like most of the first timers at the club, but out of observance. He was gauging his surroundings, judging the others around him in stoic silence, and filing them away in neat little categories in his mind. In other words, Lord Riddle was a predator sizing up his prey. Just like you. 

Usually, it only took a single interaction for you to figure out what type of person someone was. You could easily tell which clients possessed great wealth, political advantage, or secrets so terrible that you could easily exploit for your own advantage. Needless to say, this special skill of yours made you the most infamous courtesan in all of London and subsequently, the Madam’s favorite. 

But as you observed the mysterious stranger from across the room, you were surprised to come across something that you haven’t encountered for a very long time — a challenge. 

“Great choice,” the Madam praised from over your shoulder. “Would you like to be introduced?” 

“No,” you answered as you lazily sipped on a glass of champagne. “Lord Riddle will make his move when the time is right.” 

Three nights passed before Lord Riddle made his approach. The Underworld was filled to the brim with gyrating bodies, their sticky and sweaty limbs pressed against one another as they danced to the seductive crooning of the singer on stage. The red spotlight bathed the crowd in a hazy light as smoke curled through the dancefloor. 

“Not a fan of the crowd, I take it?” Lord Riddle drawled as he smoothly sidled up to your side. 

“I prefer to watch,” you replied nonchalantly as you sipped champagne. “Clearly, I’m not alone in that, my lord.” 

Lord Riddle smirked seductively, drawing you in like a predator toying with his prey. As you firmly held his gaze, you finally allowed yourself to truly take him in. Looking at Mattheo was like looking at a masterpiece — the dark and seductive eyes, the sharp cheekbones, the angular jaw, and the tall and lean body that towered over your own were all pieces of a work of art that deserved to be immortalized in a museum. Suffice to say that he was the most beautiful man you had ever seen. 

Still, there was more to Lord Riddle than just an aesthetically pleasing appearance. There was a presence about him, a certain magnetism that pulled you into his orbit. You felt drawn to him in a way that you had never felt with anyone else before. 

“I don’t think we’ve been properly introduced.” His voice was husky — smoky almost and it sounded like silk to your ears. Lord Riddle held out a gloved hand and flashed his charming smile. “My name is Mattheo. Mattheo Riddle.”

You shook his covered hand, noting the ancient heirloom ring sitting snugly on his right ring finger. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, my lord. My name is Y/N.” 

Mattheo extended your hand up to his mouth and placed a chaste kiss on the back of your palm. The coolness of his lips against your skin sent shivers up your spine. “The pleasure is all mine, Miss Y/N,” he purred. “And please, call me Mattheo.” 

With a sly smile, you swiped a glass of champagne from a passing tray and handed it to your newfound companion. Mattheo took a graceful sip, his intense gaze drinking you in. 

“What brings you up here tonight, Mattheo?” You gestured to the lower level of the club where the atmosphere shifted into a hedonistic maelstrom. “Surely you would much rather partake in the revelries happening down there.” 

Mattheo leaned closer and the strong scent of cinnamon and tobacco enveloped you from all sides. “Something tells me that the main event is right here,” he whispered as he caged you against the banister until all you could see, feel, and hear was him. “With you.” 

Unperturbed, you flashed him a seductive grin. “Smart and handsome,” you quipped as you smoothed the lapels of his velvet suit jacket. Mattheo trailed your touch with that intense gaze, his eyes following a path down the hard plane of his chest, which was exposed beneath an unbuttoned black dress shirt. The silver cross chain around his neck glimmered underneath the dim club lights. “Perhaps I’ve found the cure to my perpetual boredom.” 

“If you’re bored, then you’re more than welcome to play with me.” 

You raised a perfectly manicured brow. “Is that a proposition, my lord?” 

Mattheo was the perfect picture of sensuality as he closed the gap between you. “Not the type that you think,” he murmured softly. “After all, I am a gentleman so I intend to do this properly with you.” 

You raised your chin defiantly. “I can be proper.” 

His dark chuckle caressed your skin. “Somehow I doubt that,” Mattheo gibed. “Be that as it may, my offer is quite simple. I request your company for dinner tomorrow evening at my estate.” 

“For what purpose?” 

“I would like to get to know you,” Mattheo explained. “Preferably without the smoke and mirrors of this place. You’ll find that I’m a simple man with simple taste. I do not require such pageantry. What I want is the pleasure of your company over dinner and drinks.” 

“A date?” You reiterated with intrigue. “That’s not the way we do things around here.” 

Mattheo smiled. “I have a feeling you’ll make an exception for me, love.” 

“What makes you so sure of that?” 

“I intrigue you,” he simply stated. “I am a complete mystery to you. A puzzle of sorts. You like to solve puzzles. All you have to do to find the missing piece is accept.” 

“If I do,” you proposed in a neutral tone, your gaze flickering up to this magnanimous man. “Will I finally have the full picture of who you are, Lord Riddle?” 

Mattheo bowed and kissed your hand once more. “Come and find out, love.”

The wrought iron gates creaked as the carriage rounded the Riddle Estate. The ancestral home was imposing, its pointed arches and towering spires looming ominously against the backdrop of the full moon. The lawn was meticulously maintained, every hedge trimmed and shaped to perfection. 

The carriage came to a stop in front of an ornately carved wooden door. You thanked the coachman and climbed the steps one by one, careful not to step on your scarlet silk dress. As if on cue, the doors opened of its own accord. A servant awaited you inside, his stern expression fixed as he welcomed you into the home. 

“Welcome, Miss Y/N,” he rasped out. “Lord Riddle awaits you on the terrace. Follow me, please.” 

“Thank you for having me,” you said graciously as he led you through the luxurious home. You took a moment to appreciate the intricate artwork that lined the walls. “The estate is quite beautiful. From what I understand, this place holds a lot of history. Everything has been preserved from when the Prince resided here. Is that correct?” 

The man’s expression transformed from indifference to delight. “Before it became the Riddle Estate, this ancestral home was called Carfax. To honor its history, the Riddles have maintained the furnishings in its original state from when the Prince first purchased the property in the nineteenth century.” 

“Lord Riddle is quite right to do so,” you said in admiration. “There’s a certain melancholy to this place that I find quite charming.” The man nodded in appreciation. “Haunting, even.” 

“The only thing that haunts these four walls now are me,” Mattheo said when you reached the terrace. His dimpled smile was as charming and haunting as his home. “Thank you for guiding Miss Y/N, Nigel. That’ll be all for the night.” 

You curtsied as the man called Nigel bowed. “Have a lovely evening, Miss Y/N,” Nigel said in parting. “Perhaps I may give you a tour of this grand home and discuss its historic importance when my lord allows it.” 

“That would be lovely,” you accepted with a smile. “Thank you, Nigel.” 

Mattheo watched in amusement, his brows quirking as he watched the man depart. “I’m impressed,” he said with a chuckle. “You’ve managed to charm Nigel. I haven’t seen him smile in decades.” 

“I’ve been told I have a certain appeal.” 

“Speaking of,” Mattheo drawled as he surveyed you. His gaze snagged on where the silk accentuated your curves. “You look quite ravishing tonight.” 

You allowed a demure smile as you discretely scrutinized him. “I could say the same of you.” 

In all honesty, ravishing might be an understatement when it came to Mattheo. The silk button down he donned tonight was as dark as sin. At first, you thought it was black until the candlelight flickered through the fabric. Then you realized that it was a crimson so dark it appeared onyx like dried blood. His trousers were black and neatly pressed and on his feet were expensive leather shoes. The same cross chain dangled from his neck, disappearing underneath his shirt. You desperately wanted to trace it with your tongue. 

Mattheo rested his gloved hand on your lower back, guiding you gently to your seat. “You’re just in time,” he said in a pleased tone. “Dinner is ready.” 

As you settled into your seat, you had to admit that this wasn’t at all what you expected. You envisioned a grand and ostentatious six course meal served by servants while you and Mattheo were seated on opposite ends of an expensive mahogany table. In comparison, this was intimate and cozy. You were surprised to find that you preferred this much more. 

Dinner was a delicious serving of filet mignon, asparagus, and parmesan crusted potatoes that Mattheo served you himself. It was better than any meal you had ever had. To top it off, the wine he paired with the food was a rich vintage that was probably older than both of you combined. 

The conversation flowed easily between you. Mattheo was curious about you and asked questions at any given opportunity. He wanted to know your hobbies, your friends, your aspirations. It was more than anyone had ever inquired about you in a long time. 

“How did you come to work for the club?” 

You tensed at the question, but smoothly brushed over the reaction with a sip of wine. “My father was an alcoholic and a gambler. The drunker he got, the higher he bet. Unfortunately, luck never seemed to be on his side. One day, he lost a bet against a very powerful man. My father was given three days to repay his debt. Failure to do so would mean forfeiting his life. When I was eight, he sold me to the Madam and the rest is history.” 

Mattheo listened intently, captivated by your story. There wasn’t a hint of pity in his eyes, which you appreciated. You hated when people treated you like some broken little bird. The story wasn’t meant to elicit sympathy. It was a shitty thing, yes. But shitty things happened all the time. 

Even to little girls who didn’t deserve it. 

The fact of the matter was that you were the most influential courtesan in London while your father had drank himself into an early grave. You had accomplished more than he ever did in his sorry life. Because of him, you learned to read men with pinpoint accuracy so you would never be at one’s mercy again.

“Did your father ever show remorse for what he had done?” Mattheo asked curiously. 

You snorted. “That would require him to have a conscience. Besides, I neither want nor need his remorse. He died the way that he lived — drowning in liquor and debt.” 

“And the powerful man?” 

“Six feet under,” you declared nonchalantly. The governor was the first in a long line of men that met their demise by your hand. “May his soul burn in hell."

Dark eyes sparked with understanding. In the light, they almost looked crimson. “Who would be so bold to execute such a powerful man?” 

“A little girl with a grudge.” 

Pleased, Mattheo kissed your knuckles. He cleared the plates away and beckoned you to follow him. “Come, love. I want to show you something.” 

You followed Mattheo back into his home and walked through a maze of floors and hallways before you reached the west wing of the estate. He pushed open a heavy wooden door and led you into what looked like an office. Despite the extravagance of the rest of the house, the office was simple yet elegant. 

Crimson curtains reflected the moonlight, a breeze rippling through them like a phantom wind. Artifacts and artwork littered every corner of the room, including the mahogany desk positioned against the back wall. Important documents were arranged in organized stacks, but beside them were sketches and drawings of varying shape and color. 

“Everything there is to know about me is in this room,” Mattheo explained. “You said you wanted a full picture of me, so I’m giving you what I promised.”

The part of you that harbored mistrust was alarmed by his openness. “Why?” 

“To show you that I am true to my word. I will always be true to my word,” he emphasized. “Especially when it comes to you.” 

“I still don’t understand.” 

“Your madam told me about a special talent of yours.” 

“I wouldn’t call it a talent. I’m just terribly observant. If you know where to look, most people are an open book.” 

Mattheo fixed his gaze on you. “Read me then, love.”

“Most men can’t handle the truth.” 

“I’m not like most men.”

Between the lines, the true meaning of his statement revealed itself. This room was the very core of who he was and now he was inviting you in. Mattheo was putting himself wholly and utterly at your mercy. To scrutinize, to inspect, to judge. He knew how important it was for you to have the upper hand and he was willingly offering it to you. 

In silent acceptance, you surveyed the room with unveiled scrutiny. Your gaze snagged on a few interesting things. The family crest stamped on official documents. The trinkets and tokens originating from all around the world. The stoic portrait sitting above the mantelpiece. The picture of a dark haired boy that bore a great resemblance to the man before you peeking out from a discarded album. 

They all contained a piece of the puzzle that was Mattheo Riddle. 

“You’re wealthy, but not in the same sense that the rest of the club’s clientele are. You hail from old money, the type of generational wealth that most likely traces back to nobility. You’re well traveled and highly intellectual. You pick up interests left and right and you’ve probably studied at a handful of prestigious universities around the world, but you can never stick to just one topic. You have an older sibling that you have a very complicated relationship with. You’re guarded and extremely selective about the people you let in because you’re afraid of showing them the man beneath the mask. You don’t want control. You need it. Probably because you’ve felt out of control your whole life.” 

“That’s a clever trick,” Mattheo drawled as he appeared in front of you in the blink of an eye. You sucked in a breath as he pressed you against the wooden desk, resting his hands above your waist. “Is that all your instincts tell you about me?” 

“You say that you aren’t like most men, because you aren’t a man at all. You’re something else entirely. Something dark. Something dangerous.” 

Red eyes glimmered underneath the moonlight. “What am I?” Mattheo rasped as he pressed his hips against yours. “Tell me, love.” 

You held your chin high and looked him in the eyes. “You’re a vampire.” 

The mask slipped as Mattheo transformed before you. His eyes were as red as blood, dark veins forming on his pale skin. You gasped when his canines elongated, sharp and lethal and deadly. He could probably drain you of life and you wouldn’t even know it until it was too late.

“How did you figure it out?”

“You wear gloves because your skin is as cold as ice, your eyes are crimson in certain lights, and you speak like you’ve lived a thousand different lives. Plus, you’ve been staring at my neck all night like you’re just waiting for the chance to sink your teeth in.” 

“Are you scared?” 

“No.” 

“You should be,” Mattheo drawled. “I have lived for five hundred years and never once have I experienced bloodlust like this in all of my existence. Your blood calls to me. I knew it from the first night I laid my eyes on you.” 

The admission should have frightened you, but instead in some strange way you understood. On any other occasion, you never would have allowed yourself to be alone in a strange home with a strange man, but for some reason, you felt compelled to accept. Whether by fate or kismet or destiny, you knew that you were meant to be here tonight. 

Mattheo caressed your throat and buried his nose in the crook of your neck to inhale the heavenly scent. “Tell me love,” he rasped, his voice rough and gravelly. “What do you desire most in life?” 

There was no hesitation in your voice when you spoke. “Power.” 

“I could give that to you,” Mattheo promised. “I could give you power beyond what you could ever imagine. All you have to do is say yes.” 

“What are you asking for in exchange?” 

“You,” Mattheo said simply. “I want you. Bind yourself to me and you will never feel powerless again. I will worship you like the goddess that you are. I will devote myself to you for eternity. I will be yours and you will be mine.” 

“You want me to be your consort?” 

Dark eyes flickered with desire. “No, darling,” he purred smoothly. “I want you to be my equal. Equal in wealth, equal in beauty, equal in power.” 

The idea thrilled you. Being an influential courtesan was one thing, but becoming an immortal vampire with immense riches and power would provide security that not even the Madam could offer. You thought about the little girl that you were — scared and helpless as your father ripped you away from the only life you’d ever known. If you accepted Mattheo’s offer, you would never have to feel that way again. You would be untouchable.

"Why me?"

"Because you are beautiful and bloodthirsty. Because you are clever and cunning. Because you clawed your way into a better future despite the pull of the past," Mattheo declared with certainty. "Because in all my existence, I have never met anyone quite like you."

“You feel it too, don’t you?” Sharp fangs caressed your neck as Mattheo dragged his canines against your skin. “The pull between us. I never believed in the concept of mates, but even I could not deny the call of the bond. I have searched for you for centuries and I was not even aware of it until I finally found you.” 

“Is that what it is?” Since that first night at the club, you had felt inexplicably drawn to Mattheo. Even then you knew it was more than attraction. It was like every fiber of your being yearned for him. “You’re my mate?” 

Mattheo nodded. “Only if you accept the bond.” 

“Yes,” you breathed. “Yes, I accept.” 

“I will have to turn you,” Mattheo explained carefully. “The ritual will be painful. I will drink of your blood and you will drink of mine. Once the venom courses through your veins, the pain will be excruciating, but I will be with you every step of the way.” He caressed your cheek, his expression softening. “Do you trust me, love?” 

Strangely enough, you did. You knew that Mattheo would stay true to his word. 

With a nod, the ritual began. Mattheo fisted your hair between his fingers and tilted your head back. He hummed against your skin, leaving a trail of kisses up the column of your throat before settling on a spot at the junction of your collarbone. His dark eyes flicked up to yours as his fangs elongated. Mattheo watched for signs of hesitation, but found none. 

You gasped as he sank his teeth into your flesh, eyes fluttering shut as the sting of the bite took hold. Mattheo moaned as he drank your blood. The venom spread like wildfire in your veins, scorching your entire being from head to toe. It felt like your blood was boiling. You screamed as tremors rocked your body, phantom hands taking hold of your bones and breaking them over and over again. You screamed as the pain spread, but Mattheo stayed focused and retrieved a dagger from his desk drawer. 

In one swift move, he cut his palm open and held it over your mouth. “Drink, my love,” Mattheo instructed. “It will ease the pain.” 

Desperate, you lapped up Mattheo’s blood with urgency. The metallic taste filled your mouth, but you couldn’t help but drink deeper as it turned sweet and heady, tasting like wine on your tongue. The more you drank, the better you felt. It was almost as though his blood was the antidote to the pain. 

“That’s it,” Mattheo murmured. “You’re doing so well, my love. Just a little more.” You sucked on his palm shamelessly, blood dripping down the front of your dress. “That’s a good girl.” 

Mattheo wiped his blood from the corner of your mouth before crashing his lips against yours. You groaned as he pressed you against the desk, his hands gripping your waist while you kissed him back with equal fervor. Passion sparked between you as Mattheo scrambled to taste as much of you as he could. 

His soft pants echoed in your ears as he desperately chased after your kisses, blood staining both of your mouths. A euphoric feeling washed over you like a wave, chasing the pain away and replacing it with a surge of pleasure. Every touch felt heightened, your senses shifting into overdrive as Mattheo pulled away. 

You whined at the loss, which made him grin apologetically. “The ritual isn’t complete yet, my love.” 

Mattheo flipped the dagger in his hand and beckoned you over to the middle of the room. He pulled out the expensive rug and carelessly tossed it aside before kneeling on the wooden floorboards. You mirrored the gesture and watched as Mattheo pulled you against him, placing the dagger in your hand. He produced a grimoire and skimmed through the pages until he found the right one. 

“We must draw the ancient bonding runes,” Mattheo explained as he pointed at the carvings illustrated on the grimoire. “They will signify our eternal union. Once we carve them, there’s no going back.” 

You gripped the dagger tightly. “Together?” 

Mattheo smiled. “Together, my love.” 

Carefully, the two of you carved the runes into the floor. The carvings glowed as mist and fog rose up from the wooden floorboards. You shivered as the temperature dropped, an eerie wind blowing through the crimson curtains. As you finished the last rune, you and Mattheo turned to face each other. 

Blood stained his hand as he reached up to caress your cheek, his eyes black with desire. You could feel the ritual sinking into your bones, changing the very core of your being. The bond physically took hold as the connection stretched taut between the two of you. The scarlet string glowed and the end of your thread reached towards Mattheo.

“What do we do now?” 

Mattheo’s fiery gaze flickered up to you. “Now we consummate the union.” 

Your breathing slowed as Mattheo drew you close, his face mere inches away from yours. Desire burned through you like a living flame. At that moment, nothing existed but him. 

“I want you, Mattheo,” you breathed. “My mate.” 

You groaned as Mattheo kissed you deeply, his hands finding refuge in your hips. The taste of him was intoxicating, sweeter than any wine you had ever consumed. You groaned as he parted your lips with his tongue and placed you over his lap. The kisses grew desperate, like you couldn’t get enough of one another. Mattheo pulled down the straps of your dress, kissing every inch of skin he had access to. 

“Let me worship you like you deserve,” he murmured in reverence. 

His eyes remained fixated on you as he laid you atop the runes, its glow bathing both of you in scarlet light. Mattheo took his time lavishing your body with kisses, marking every inch of you with his mouth. You moaned as his dark head disappeared between your legs, his sharp canines tickling the inside of your thighs. He took your lace panties off with his teeth and hooked your legs over his shoulders. 

The anticipation was almost too much to bear until Mattheo finally put his mouth on you. He eagerly feasted, his hunger evident in the way he buried his tongue in your cunt. You tugged at his curls as he licked and sucked, lapping up your arousal with unbroken focus. When his tongue flicked over your clit, you bucked against his mouth and shamelessly moaned his name. 

“You’re a fucking goddess, Y/N,” Mattheo declared. 

The sight of him between your thighs, his mouth dripping with blood and cum while his eyes burned with carnal passion was enough to send you over the edge, but you didn’t want to come without him. You wanted to do this right. You wanted to do this together.

“I need you,” you pleaded as you tugged at his belt. “Please, Mattheo.” 

“You never have to beg,” Mattheo answered as he undressed. “I’m yours, Y/N.” 

With bated breath, you watched in anticipation as Mattheo crawled over you, his gaze wild and hungry. He groaned when you tugged him down by his curls, his mouth meeting yours in a heated frenzy. His hard length pressed against your center as you parted your legs for him, greedily wrapping them around his waist while you grinded deliciously against his cock. 

The friction was divine, but you needed more. So much more. Mattheo growled into your mouth as he guided your hand towards his impressive length, chuckling softly when your eyes widened at his size. Crimson bled into soft chocolate eyes as Mattheo lined himself up at your entrance. 

“You’re fucking exquisite,” he whispered in reverence as he traced your jaw. “I have waited for you for centuries and it was worth every second.” 

You whimpered as he eased into you, his cock stretching your walls as you adjusted to his length. Praises flowed from Mattheo’s mouth as he pushed inside, giving you inch after inch until he was fully sheathed in your pussy. The pressure was painful at first, but it soon gave way to pleasure. 

“I feel so full,” you groaned as Mattheo kissed your neck. “So full of you, Mattheo.” 

“Is it as heavenly for you as it is for me, love?” 

In response, you secured your legs around his waist and pushed him in further, making the both of you moan in satisfaction. 

“Does that answer your question?” 

A cheeky grin appeared on Mattheo’s handsome face. “You’re absolutely sinful, but don’t get too cocky. I’m going to ruin you for every other man.” 

“You already have,” you responded as Mattheo moved slowly, dragging his cock in and out of you until you actually whined from the absence. “No man could ever measure up. There is no one like you, Mattheo.” 

The declaration seemed to unleash something inside of Mattheo. His movements, once slow and calculated, turned frenzied and frantic. His hands were all over your body, his fangs dragging up the column of your throat while his form enveloped you whole until you couldn’t tell where you began and where he ended. 

You matched his rhythm, rocking your hips to the frenetic pace. Mattheo hissed as you clawed at his back and slammed harder into you, seeming to know exactly what you needed without you speaking it into existence. The ancient runes glowed and your blood hummed in agreement, accepting the final binding of the ritual. 

“Do you feel that, love?” Mattheo grunted, his sweat matted curls plastered to his forehead. “That’s my power flowing into you. With it, you will be unstoppable.” 

Your back arched against the floor as energy surged through your veins, electrifying every cell in your body. The scarlet thread between you and Mattheo twined itself into an unbreakable connection, connecting your mind, body, and soul together. 

A shiver skittered down your spine as you looked into a pair of crimson eyes. “We will be unstoppable. My mate, my love, my Y/N.” 

The pleasure was overwhelming. You tugged Mattheo down to you, panting into his mouth as you kissed him. “So close,” you breathed. “I’m so close.”

Your gums ached as fangs began to elongate from your mouth. Mattheo watched proudly, his handsome face bathed in awe at the transformation. 

“Surrender to it,” he whispered softly. “Bite me, my love.” 

The words gave you pause, but as soon as he spoke them, hunger and bloodlust seemed to awaken in your veins. 

“Drink from my blood,” Mattheo encouraged. “Mark me. Claim me. Devour me.” 

Without hesitation, you sank your teeth into the side of his neck. The thirst was unquenchable and you drank deeply, greedy for the taste of his blood. Mattheo’s hips stuttered as he moaned erotically, his release close. 

“That’s it, Y/N.” Mattheo encouraged as blood dribbled down his neck. His fingers swiped over your clit, rubbing stimulating circles and making you feel untethered. “Surrender yourself to me completely. Come for me, my love.” 

A whip of lightning lashed at your body, searing you from head to toe as you toppled over the edge. The orgasm was white and blinding, seizing your very being with pleasure. Mattheo kissed you through the comedown, letting you ride it out as you clawed at his back and arms. 

“Look at me,” he commanded. “Watch the way you undo me.” 

Mattheo was a man ruined. As soon as your gazes met, he threw his head back and roared in pleasure. The way he looked when he came, perfect curls mussed and sex tousled, abs straining as he emptied himself inside of you, and mouth open as your name left his lips, was something that would be ingrained into your mind for the rest of time. 

The bond settled between you then, signaling the completion of the ritual. You were now connected to Mattheo in every way possible. The courtesan who once vowed never to give herself to a man now found herself bonded. 

Mattheo embraced you in his arms, holding you close. You pressed your cheek against his solid chest and found comfort in his touch.

“What happens now?” 

“I devour you again and again,” Mattheo responded cheekily. “And once more before the sun rises."

You chuckled softly. “After that?”

“You decide, my love.” He declared with no qualms. “You are in control of your story now.” 

“And if I said the little girl with the grudge wanted to burn the whole world down?” 

Crimson eyes met yours. “Then I’ll help her light the match.”

Mattheo meant it. You knew it in your very bones. With a smile, you settled into his arms. Feeling safe. Feeling loved. Feeling like you could rule the world. He gave you that. Your mate. 

As your eyes fluttered close, one thought flashed through your once cynical mind. 

Perhaps sex wasn’t always about power.

Perhaps, on rare occasions, sex was about so much more.

[jayybugg]

dreams come true

Mattheo Riddle x Fem!Reader

Summary: You and Mattheo can't resist each other and have some fun in a tattoo shop.

Warning: Tattoo Artist AU!Mattheo, Dirty talk, Takes place AFTER Hogwarts, Smut (18+), No use of Y/N.

Note: I'm embarrassed to admit how long it took me to write this but personal Tumblr friends know this was a long time coming. Based on feral thoughts from @finalgirllx tattoo Mattheo edits (Please go check them out if you haven't). @cafekitsune for the banners as always! Hope you enjoy!

Mattheo raised an eyebrow, looking up from his drawing station when the bell of the shop’s door rang. It didn’t take long for him to recognize you. A grin spread across his face.

“Back already, Love?” Mattheo’s sultry voice asked, pulling your attention to him. You tilted your head, a smile curving into your lips. “Missed me, Riddle?” You leaned over his drawing station, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth.

Mattheo kept his eyes trained on your face. He knew if his eyes wondered, they would go straight to your chest. As much as he loved to flirt with you and found you insanely gorgeous, you were still a client and he needed to be professional.

“More than you know, Princess.” Mattheo stood up, walking around the table to tower over you. “What are you here for now?”

Mattheo had tattooed you last month, so he was shocked that you were already back for another one. You looked up at Mattheo through your lashes, “I have a new tattoo idea.”

“Well, spill the beans.” He leaned against the table, focusing on you. He crossed his arms across his chest, unintentionally flexing his muscles while showing off his ink-covered arms. You wet your lips, dragging your eyes from his arms to his eyes. “A dragon.” You said.

“A dragon?” Mattheo asked, looking at you curiously. You nodded quickly, “Yeah. Specifically, a Hebridean Black dragon, but more colorful.”

Mattheo smirked, walking back around the table, retaking his seat. He picked up his pencil to start a sketch. “I’m assuming you’re picking the Hebridean for its enormous size. This will be a large tattoo, huh?” He asked, eyes focused on the paper in front of him.

“You know me so well, Riddle.” You laughed, “Yes, this will be a large tattoo. I want it to wrap around my whole thigh, the head starting on my hip and the tail ending around the knee area.”

Mattheo nodded slowly, looking at you. “Those are sensitive areas, Princess. Are you sure?”

He knew you would be fine with the areas. He had already tatted your spine, leg, ankle, sternum, and side boob. He was the one who wouldn’t be okay. Mattheo was using every ounce of restraint to stop himself from simply bending you over one of these tables and taking you there.

“Of course, I’ll be okay.” You raised your eyebrow. “Who do you think I am? Some rookie?”

Mattheo chuckled at the question. “Fine. You got it, Princess. You can hang out in my station while I get it drawn up and printed.”

You smiled at him, walking into the familiar room. All the ink and equipment were neatly placed and clean. You sat on the tattoo bench, leaning back as you waited for Mattheo to join you in the room. He didn’t leave you waiting for long. Mattheo entered the room with the printed-out stencil and a pair of smooth, black rubber gloves.

“I forgot to bring a change of pants.” You said, slightly embarrassed, “This was a kind of impulsive decision.”

Mattheo stared at you before shrugging. “I’m comfortable if you just want to do it in your underwear, Princess.”

You smiled, standing up and peeling your jeans off. Mattheo turned on his heels fast to face the wall. His eyes trained on the ceiling as he took a deep breath. You laid back on the table, looking over at him. “I’m ready, Matty.”

Mattheo nodded, clearing his throat. He slid his gloves on as he watched you shift around on the bench in just your underwear and top. He held back his groan and pulled up his chair. He prayed to Merlin that he would make it out of this session with a piece of his dignity.

The beginning of the session was easy. Mattheo focused on the designs while he listened to you rant about how hard school was. It wasn’t until he got to the inner part of your thigh that it got difficult.

To have precise lines on your tattoo, you had to spread your legs with Mattheo nestled in the middle of them. He gripped your thigh, keeping the skin stretched as he worked. He couldn’t focus on what you were talking about or what he was even tattooing. He thanked Merlin for his motor skills because if he was still a rookie, this would end with a lawsuit.

You couldn’t help but notice Mattheo’s heavy breathing so close to your core. It was making you wetter than you ever expected it to. Of course, you were attracted to Mattheo, and with him so close but so far away from fulfilling your fantasies, it was killing you.

The room fell into a comfortable silence as you couldn’t keep your voice leveled anymore and Mattheo kept his mouth closed and his eyes focused on the tattoo. After a few more hours, Mattheo finally finished your tattoo and looked at you proudly.

“It looks good, Princess. I would have never thought to do this if you hadn’t asked.” Mattheo observed it, “I ran out of wrap, so I need to run over to the store to get some. Just give me like 10 minutes, okay?”

You nodded, smiling at him. “Of course, I’ll be here.”

Mattheo winked at you before leaving the shop, locking the door behind him so no one just walked in and scared you. You let out a breath of relief, your hand traveling to your underwear. You hooked your finger around the cloth, pulling it to the side and letting another finger tease your folds. You were soaked.

“How the fuck am I this wet? He didn’t even do anything.” You mutter to yourself. You glanced around the room, sighing softly before dipping two fingers into yourself.

It was probably a terrible idea to finger yourself in Mattheo’s shop and on his tattoo bench, but your desire was stronger than your common sense at that moment.

“F-fuck…” You moaned, keeping up the pace, “Shit, Mattheo.”

You kept going, wanting to reach your climax before Mattheo got back. You picked up the pace of your fingers, now slamming them into yourself. Your moans were loud, and your thoughts were so clouded that all your awareness was thrown out the window.

With your eyes screwed shut, head thrown back, and fingers still buried deep in your pussy, you reached your orgasm. You let out a deep breath of relief as you finished.

“That was a nice show to come back to, Princess.”

You jumped to cover yourself, and widened your eyes, looking at the door where Mattheo leaned against the frame. He had his arms crossed, his muscles flexing and his tattoos moving. Your jaw slacked open as you tried to find any excuse for what he had seen.

“I…. Mattheo, I’m so sorry. I didn’t…. I wasn’t….”

Mattheo sat the wrap down on the table, walking over to you with a smirk plastered on his face. He placed a hand on your leg, moving them apart slowly. You looked between him and his hand, pulling your lip between your teeth.

He bent down to lie between your fully spread legs, groaning at the wetness that he was met with. “Fuck, you wanted me this bad, Princess?”

He took a finger, rubbing it over your clit, adding a small amount of pressure. You let out a whimper, gripping the sides of the bench. “Mattheo….”

“I’ve been wanting to see this pretty pussy for so long. Wanting to hear you moan my name since I’ve heard that beautiful voice of yours.” He looked up at you. “And now you’ve soaked my bench just thinking about me?”

“I didn’t mean to……I just…You were so close that I got turned on.” You whispered, letting out a moan as he dipped his finger into you, pumping in and out of you at a slow pace.

“I’m not mad, Princess.” He kissed your thigh. “I want to hear it again.”

Mattheo dipped his head down, sucking your clit into his mouth as he added another finger inside of you, picking up the pace. Your hands flew to his curls, tangling your hands into them, tugging slightly. Mattheo groaned softly at that, the vibrations sending shivers up your spine.

“Fuck, Matty, Oh my Gods.” You whimpered out. He slid his fingers out and hooked his hand around your thighs, being careful of your tattoo. Pulling you close, he flicked his tongue up and down your clit, letting it occasionally slip into you. You bucked your hips as you felt another orgasm coming. “Matty, I’m about to, fuck, I’m about to cum.”

“Good. Be a good girl for me and cum all over my tongue, Princess.”

You let out a breathy moan, bucking your hips up to grind out your climax on Mattheo’s face. Mattheo chuckled. Standing up, he sunk his fingers into his mouth and sucked your juices off his finger.

“Sweet.” Mattheo smirked at you, “Now c’mere.”

He grabbed the wrap off the table, effectively wrapping your tattoo before pulling you off the bench and to the floor so you were on your knees in front of him. You stared up at him, your eyes wide as your hands trailed up his legs and over the growing bulge in his pants. “Go ahead, pretty girl.” Mattheo’s voice came out soft and demanding. Your fingers fumbled with his belt and zipper, eventually popping open to allow you to tug them down.

Mattheo smirk, moving your hands gently and tugging his boxers and pants down quicker, stepping out of them. He let out a small grunt as he pumped himself slowly, precum already dripping from his tip. He reached his hand out, weaving it into your hair and gripping it from the roots as he pulled your head back. Your mouth fell open, in shock and want, causing Mattheo to smirk down at you. “Look at you, such a needy slut. You want my cock that bad?”

“Yes,” You whined softly, squeezing your legs together, “Please, I want it.”

Mattheo stepped closer to you, causing you to widen your legs a bit. “Don’t go trying to pleasure yourself, Princess. Wait for your turn. Now, open your mouth.” You followed his directions quickly, opening your mouth and sticking your tongue out.

Mattheo groaned at the sight of you being so obedient to him. He slapped his cock against your tongue before pushing his hips forward and jutting his cock into the warmth of your mouth. His body shivered at the moan you released from just having him in your mouth. “This is what you wanted, huh? For me to face fuck you in my shop? Am I making all those dirty little fantasies come true?”

Mattheo moved his hips at a faster pace, slamming in and out of your throat. Your eyes welled up with tears as saliva trailed down your chin and chest. Your mind was dazed as your core got hotter and hotter from the rough actions. Mattheo’s moans were enough to keep you riled up. “You look so fucking pretty, Princess. Choking on my dick, eyes filled with tears from pleasuring me. Fuck, you’re so fucking pretty.”

Your heart leaped at the praises. To make Mattheo feel good and use you in whichever way he wanted is what you desired this entire time. Your endless wet dreams and daydream fantasies were a reality. You felt Mattheo’s thrusts get sloppier and more reckless as he let out a string of curses. “I’m about to cum. I’m going to cum in this slutty fucking mouth of yours.”

He pulled your head closer to him as he released deep down your throat, ensuring that you didn’t waste a drop. He groaned softly, pulling out of your mouth to let you relax. He leaned over, grabbing your jaw to make you look at him. He gently wiped your tears and pulled you in to meet his lips. The kiss was passionate and feverish as he slipped his tongue past your lips. You moaned into it as you stood up, not breaking the kiss.

Mattheo kept one hand on your jaw as he wrapped his arm around your body to roughly palm your ass. He walked you backwards to the tattoo bench, causing you to instinctively jump up on it. Mattheo pulled only an inch away from your lips, mumbling softly to you, “You better stop me now, Princess. If this is something you don’t want….”

“I want it. I want it so bad, Matty. It’s all I’ve thought about since I’ve met you.” You reassure him, your hand reaching down to jerk him off slowly. “I want you. I need you, Mattheo.”

“Fuck, Princess.” Mattheo groaned, kissing you deeply before pushing you on your back and positioning you on the edge of the bench. He lifted one of your legs over his shoulder and wrapped the other one around his waist. Grabbing the shaft of his dick, he teased your folds before pushing his tip into you.

Whimpers fell from your mouth as Mattheo teased you with just his tip. “Matty…. please….”

“You’re so fucking hot when you beg for me.” Mattheo said, sinking into you. He groaned at the warmth and tightness. “So, fucking warm, Princess. Tell me when to go, baby.”

“G-go…. You can go.” You moaned, gripping the side of the bench. Mattheo didn’t waste time to thrust. His slow thrusts didn’t last long because, within seconds, he was pounding into you. Your moans drowned the creaks of the tattoo bench out. “Fuck, Mattheo, feels s’good.” You babbled; your eyes screwed shut in pleasure.

“You’re taking me so fucking well, Princess. Such a good fucking slut, letting me rail you on my tattoo bench.” Mattheo groaned, his hands reaching under your shirt to grope your boobs. “My pretty little slut, aren’t you?”

The touching, the thrusting, and the dirty talk were making your mind fuzzy. Pleasure taking over your body was making it impossible for your mind to string together any type of words. “I asked you a question, Princess, answer me,” Mattheo grunted, taking his hand from under your shirt and moving it to wrap around your throat while leaning forward to plunge deeper into you. You mewled at the feeling, your hand gripping his sides and clawing up his back.

“Y-yes! I’m…. I’m your p-pretty little slut.” You finally pushed out, “Fuck, Mattheo.”

Mattheo left wet kisses down your neck to your collarbone. “I’ve been wanting this for so long. To hear your pretty voice moan my name, to hear you beg for me to fuck you. You’re a fucking dream come true.”

Mattheo moved his hand from your neck to your clit, rubbing it as he continued to fuck you. You whimpered at the overstimulation. “I want you to cum all over my dick, Princess. Make a mess all over me and my tattoo bench.”

You moaned, feeling the growing knot in your stomach as you got closer to your climax. One more thrust from Mattheo had you whining and your legs shaking. Tears pricked your eyes once more as Mattheo kept thrusting and rubbing your clit. “I can’t- I can’t take no more, Matty.” You whined, looking up at him.

“Yes, you can. You can take more until I cum, baby girl. I’m almost there, I’m going to cum in this pretty pussy.” Mattheo said, “Gonna let me breed you, Princess? Fill you up with my seed?”

“Yes, please, cum in me. I want it, I want it so bad.” You babbled.

“Good fucking girl,” Mattheo mumbled, groaning as his thrusts became more erratic. He slammed into you once more, burying himself deep into you as he came in you. He pulled out slowly, grabbing your arm and pulling you up into his chest. “That was amazing, Princess. You’re amazing.” He whispered into your ear.

“Thank you.” You felt a blush rush to your face. “Guess I should go pay now, huh?”

Mattheo chuckled, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “You think you’re paying after all that?”

“It’s only right that I pay you for your work.” You said, your eyes meeting his.

“Trust me, Princess, you’ve paid me with something way more valuable than money.” Mattheo smirked. “And now that’s all I want. I’ll tattoo anything on you for it.”

You blushed, laughing at him. Your heart raced at all the future possibilities with Mattheo.

Today was truly a dream come true.