Ruin You
Ruin You
Mattheo Riddle, an incubus, is used to getting his way. But when he falls for you --the one girl immune to his charms -- and learns of your innocence, he's overcome with the want to ruin you for anyone else.
MDNI! corruption kink, praise, fingering, unprotected piv, semi-public sex, creampie, loss of virginity, incubus!mattheo x fem!reader, I am not responsible for your media consumption
w/c: 1.6k
in response to this request!
masterlist au list
a/n: first smut ever!! I hope this lives up to all the expectations! <3
Seduction came to Mattheo Riddle as if it was his mother tongue – natural, unhurried. He knew exactly what to say, how to say it, and the way to angle his smirk just right to make people weak in the knees. His smile was devastating, his voice rich and deep, his touch always featherlight yet never failing to leave a scorching heat behind. He thrived off sexual innuendos, his existence woven into every fantasy and every intimate thought that flitted through every mind.
But you seemed to be immune to his charms.
Remaining blissfully ignorant to his attempts, you somehow escaped every interaction with the demon entirely untouched by the sin that dripped from his lips. It was confusing, infuriating, yet somehow intoxicating; only serving to make him thirst for more.
“You know,” he purred, leaning closer to where you sat in the common room. “If you ever need help with anything, I’m here. You only have to ask.”
You blinked up at him, and a wholesome smile spread across your lips. “That’s so sweet of you, Matty. You’re such a good friend.”
He nearly choked on his own spit at your response. Friend? He was a literal demon of temptation and desire, and yet you thought his actions were friendly?
His flirtations only escalated after that. Every smirk, wink, lingering touch, was only met with a beaming smile or polite nod. You were a puzzle, a challenge. He wanted to figure you out – to understand how to get his message across. And yet he found himself drawn to you in other ways; ones that weren’t driven solely by physical need.
Then he heard the rumors.
He hadn’t meant to eavesdrop. He was just drinking at a party like usual, when he heard Pansy’s voice. “Y/n’s a virgin? Makes sense I guess. But with a face like that, I expected more,” he heard her say.
He felt the world tilt for a moment, and not from the alcohol he was drinking. Everything in him was screaming, the depraved part of him clawing at the edges of his restraint. A virgin. Pure. Untouched.
His body ached at the thought, and the demonic part of him longed to find you and corrupt you, defile you. But the last thing he wanted was for you to see him as he was – a monster, a predator, a creature of hunger and lust. He wanted you desperately, needed you even, but he would never force anything on you.
For the first time in his life, Mattheo Riddle was at a complete loss for what to do.
Although it was difficult, Mattheo tried to distance himself after that revelation. He told himself that it was for your own good, that you were better off without him, that he would ruin you if he got too close.
But the more he resisted, the more unbearable the distance from you became. He still heard your laugh echoing throughout the corridors, still caught glimpses of you in the Great Hall, still felt the echo of your innocent touches that lingered, their memory like a brand seared into his skin.
However, you noticed the change in his behavior almost instantly, and began to wonder if you’d done something wrong.
“Matty?” You asked one day, your voice soft and uncertain. You’d caught him just after curfew, when everyone was meant to be heading to their dorms. “Are you mad at me? Have I done something?”
Mattheo’s fists clenched at his sides, not able to stand the way your doe eyes were filled with guilt and concern. No fear, no anger, no suspicion, just pure and genuine worry. It broke his heart, and he had to look away. “No angel, you didn’t do anything.”
You tilted your head in confusion, and your brows furrowing. “Then why have you been avoiding me?”
His mouth floundered as he searched for something to say. What could he possibly say that wouldn’t scare you? That wouldn’t hurt you? Yet he couldn’t bring himself to lie either. “You wouldn’t understand,” he muttered, giving a non-answer while shoving his hands into his pockets.
“Then explain it to me,” you said, looking up at him expectantly.
Finally, his eyes meet yours. You stood firm, gaze unwavering, arms crossed over your chest. The sight of you, so determined, so concerned, made him snap.
“You drive me mad, you know that? Every time you smile at me, every goddamn touch, makes me go absolutely insane. I want you so bad… I wanna ruin you for anyone else.
“So? Who said I didn’t feel the same way, Matty?”
He stared at you in utter disbelief. “But all the hints I threw-”
“Yeah, I get those now,” you grumble. “After I realize you share the same feelings. I just… didn’t want to assume.”
He scoffs and takes a step closer. “So you want this too?”
As soon as you nod, he’s on you. His lips crashed against yours, desperate and hungry, his fingers tangling in your hair, tugging lightly, as he backed you against the wall. One hand slid to the small of your back, pressing you flush against him, and you could feel his desire pressing against you. The kiss was fervent, full of pent-up desire, yet beneath the urgency there was tenderness.
“You don’t know what you do to me,” he whispered between kisses, his breath hot on your skin. “I’ve wanted this for so long. You’re so fucking perfect.”
His hands were warm as they slid under your shirt, pushing it up and over your head. Your bra was next, falling away to meet your shirt, and you should have been mortified of being so exposed in the common room. But you couldn't find it in yourself to care. Not when his touch ignited something within you that you never knew was there, not when his lips brushed against your ear, whispering sweet praises that made your stomach tighten with need.
His own shirt was next, falling into the growing pile of clothes forgotten on the floor. Hands finding your hips, he spun you around, and you immediately braced yourself against the wall. The stone was hard and cold against your hands, and the cold air of the common room caused your nipples to pebble. His touch drifted down your back, before slipping under your skirt to rub against your core. Letting out a gasp of surprise, your hips jolted towards his touch, earning a soothing hum from the man behind you.
“I’ll be gentle, okay? So fucking gentle,” he murmured as he moved your panties to the side. Two fingers slipped inside your cunt with ease, earning a whine from you.
“Fuck. You're so tight. So wet,” he groaned as he curled his fingers, hitting that spongy spot that made you see stars. “I really am the only one to touch you like this? Gonna be the first and last, yeah?”
“Yeah,” you moaned, head falling forward as a knot started to form in your belly.
His fingers picked up their pace, pumping and curling just right, just enough to drive you dangerously close to the edge. “I want you to promise, angel. Promise me I’ll be the only one to ever see this beautiful pussy of yours.”
You nodded enthusiastically, but that didn't satisfy him. Right as you were about to finish, he tore his hand away from you, leaving you teetering on the brink. The loss and emptiness made you whimper, but when you heard him unbuckling his belt, anticipation replaced the frustration. The suspense made you tense, your thighs pressing together in search of relief.
The head of his cock brushed against your entrance, teasing, but he didn't move. “I want to hear you say it. Promise me, angel.”
“I promise,” you whined, growing impatient from the loss of sensation. You wanted him desperately.
That was all he needed to hear, his hips surging forward, thrusting into you with one swift motion. A choked gasp escaped your lips, the stretch making you wince. He stilled, letting you adjust, though his grip on your hips tightened like he was barely holding himself back.
“So fucking perfect,” he groaned, pressing a soft kiss to your shoulder. Your fingers curled against the wall, and when you started to squirm, he took that as a hint to move. His first thrust was slow, gentle. It was your first time after all. But eventually his restraint snapped. His rhythm was deep and deliberate, fucking into you as if this was the last thing he'd ever do.
One hand snaked around your body to rub tight circles on your clit that made your knees buckle. He caught you, keeping you upright as his pace never faltered.
“Feel so good. Like you were made for me,” he moans, his voice raw.
His continued ministrations made pressure build once again, white-hot pleasure beginning to curl insistently in your stomach. You could feel it, the inevitable, and his increasingly erratic movements were a tell-tale sign that he was close too.
“Come for me,” he whispered, coaxing you. “Prove to me how perfectly you were made for me.”
Pleasure crashed over you, blinding and all-consuming. You tightened and fluttered around him, eliciting a guttural moan from deep within his throat. He followed soon after, burying himself deep with a groan.
For a moment, neither of you moved, lost in the shock of what had just happened. Then he pulled out and turned you around, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips.
“You did perfect, just like I knew you would.”
tag list: @mattyriddlesbitch @sturniolover13 @thereeallink @voidangxls @riddleswhcre @riddleshire
More Posts from Giibsieclaire and Others
viv jsjsjsjsjjsjsj i’m so excited for this you have no fucking idea 🙂↕️ i’m outside your door waiting for a kiss
With a rough exterior, it takes a certain someone to break down his walls.
this is so beautiful, that i don’t even know if i should be wet or scream doing both as we speak 🙂↕️
Tattoo Artist!Theo
Tattooartist!theo who is a major fuck boy, getting any woman he wants. Someone who has never been for settling down and basically lives as a free spirit. Your body is canvas and he wants nothing more than to splatter his art all over it. With a rough exterior, it takes a certain someone to break down his walls. With a naturally dominant personality, he also has sarcasm that drips from his lips in a sort of sinister way. Nothing but surprises will come your way…very soon—
Ahhhhh guuuuuys!!! I’m too excited for this AU heheh- more coming soon👀
Divider linked in my masterlist 🌙
Love my naughty nymphs 💋
Hiii, first of all i want to say that your writing is sooo good.like you're literally my fave author in this app and I love how you characterize the bl boys. Anyways can I request blue lock guys with a single mom reader and how the guys react to the fact that she's a single mom(maybe the father left reader when she got pregnant or you can write whatever scenario you want regarding the bio father) and their interaction with reader's child. If you could, pls include isagi, bachira, nagi, reo, rin and sae.
Also take care and have a great day<333
“𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐝 𝐮𝐩”
a/n: OMG TYSM??? AAA THAT IS SO SWEET! take care and have a great day as well you pretty soul ❤️
i love the domestic fluff behind this request + reader def has another kid with them after
ft. isagi yoichi, bachira meguru, nagi seishiro, itoshi rin, itoshi sae
isagi yoichi
he’s surprised at first, but not in a bad way, just wide-eyed, taking it all in.
“you’re a mom?” he blinks. “like… a real one? like… diapers and everything?”
once he processes it, he’s all in.
isagi grew up with supportive parents, so he has a lot of respect for the strength it takes to raise a kid alone.
if you tell him the father walked out on you, he gets super serious, quiet and tense in a way you haven’t seen before.
“you don’t have to tell me everything now, but if he ever tries to come back, you let me deal with him.” and the way he says it? dead serious.
when he meets your kid for the first time, he brings a little soccer ball and awkwardly crouches down like he’s meeting royalty.
“hi! i’m… yoichi. i kick balls for a living.”
you: “okay let’s… rephrase that.”
but it works. he’s silly, energetic, and so patient – your kid absolutely adores him.
he’ll start doing commentary while the kid’s eating cereal, like it’s a world cup final.
“AND HE SCORES THE LAST FROOT LOOP! WHAT A LEGEND!”
you catch him googling “how to be a good stepdad” at 3 AM. you don’t bring it up. but you definitely screenshot it.
bachira meguru
bachira lights up when you tell him.
“you have a little gremlin too?!”
he’s thrilled. he doesn’t ask anything about the father unless you bring it up. he’s more focused on how he can be a fun and loving person in your child’s life.
he sees your kid and immediately goes “wanna see my monster voice?” and makes the weirdest, funniest noise ever.
the two of them are chaotic together.
you walk into the living room and there’s glitter everywhere, paper hats on both of them, and he’s letting your kid draw a mustache on his face.
“we’re pirates now,” bachira says, completely serious. “you have to pay the glitter tax.”
when your kid calls him “meguru,” he beams. when they accidentally call him “dad” one day? he tears up a little.
you: “you okay?”
him, teary-eyed: “i would die for that child.”
also probably teaches your kid to climb furniture and you have to ban them from the couch for a week.
nagi seishiro
“oh,” he says when you tell him, blinking slowly. “that’s kinda cool.”
nagi doesn’t react big. he just accepts it immediately, like it’s just another part of you.
but inside? he’s kind of in awe. like you raised a tiny human? by yourself? sounds exhausting.
“you must be really strong,” he mumbles, head on your shoulder.
he’s surprisingly good with kids. laid-back, unbothered, and doesn’t treat them like they’re fragile.
your child is obsessed with sitting on his shoulders while he walks around the apartment like a lazy giraffe.
he lets them play games on his phone, and one time they accidentally deleted a rare gacha pull. he just shrugged.
“they’re more fun to hang out with than reo.”
he naps with them on the couch and sleeps through them using his hair as a blanket.
he gets attached without even noticing. one day he buys a switch for them and says it’s “because they’re annoying when they’re bored” but you find it in his shopping history under “gift for my mini me.”
itoshi rin
freezes when you tell him.
absolutely panics inside but tries to stay stoic.
“oh. okay. i see.” (he doesn’t see anything. his brain is buffering.)
but once he calms down, he starts asking thoughtful, gentle questions.
“what do they like to eat?”
“do they know their father?”
“are you… okay?”
when you explain your ex bailed after the pregnancy, he clenches his jaw and gets really quiet.
he just nods and says, “that’s not your fault. he’s pathetic.”
rin’s not the best with kids at first. he’s awkward, stiff, stands like a statue, but he’s trying so hard.
your kid hands him a toy and rin just… holds it. like it’s a grenade.
“do i… do i play with it?”
but one afternoon, your kid falls asleep on his lap and something in him just softens.
from then on, he’s all in. buys extra snacks for them, watches their shows even if he doesn’t get them.
“this blue dog… why is he emotional?”
“it’s bluey, rin. let it happen.”
itoshi sae
you expect him to be judgmental. he’s not. at all.
he hears “i’m a single mom” and just says “okay.”
“you’re still hot. and you’re a good mom. sounds like a win to me.”
he doesn’t ask about the father unless you bring it up. when you do, he’s indifferent on the outside, but furious on the inside.
“he left? while you were pregnant?”
you nod.
he just hums and says, “if he shows up, tell him to meet me. i’ll ruin his life.”
when he meets your kid, he keeps his usual cool attitude, but your child’s the only one who gets to see him smile freely.
your kid: “can you make silly faces?”
sae: “no.”
also sae, five seconds later: pulling the most cursed expression you’ve ever seen.
he buys expensive stuff for your kid without blinking – custom sneakers, private tutors, limited edition toys.
“i like spoiling them. deal with it.”
you catch him once, watching your kid sleep while he absentmindedly brushes their hair out of their face.
he looks at you and says, “this is the only family i’ve ever actually wanted.”
yeah. you cry.
© 𝐤𝐱𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐢
i love getting free meals 🙂↕️
⊹ ࣪ ˖ introducing ballerina!reader… ⊹ ࣪ ˖
ballerina!reader… is dedicated and disciplined. she’ll do whatever it takes to claim the role she desires, staying up late to practice. as a perfectionist, she pushes herself past exhaustion—again and again—until her aching feet are raw and bleeding. because to her, anything less than flawless is failure.
“it has to be perfect. it has to be perfect. it has to be perfect.”
ballerina!reader… appears to be a fragile, innocent and soft-spoken girl. but don’t be fooled; it’s merely a facade. beneath the surface, she is fierce, powerful and unafraid to put someone in their place when necessary. with envious, bitter girls watching her every move, she knows exactly how to bite back.
“for so long, i danced for them. now, i dance for me.”
ballerina!reader… has a desire deep down to break free from the control, pressure and expectations she puts on herself. she craves something more— something deeper, wilder and darker. this yearning brings out her seductive, bold and intoxicating side.
“i was never fragile. i was only waiting to break free.”
ballerina!reader… doesn’t let people close easily— her walls are high, and trust is something she gives hesitantly. when she finally allows herself to love someone, it’s with an unforgettable intensity. her love is possessive, consuming, and fierce, yet also protective, constantly fearing rejection or abandonment.
“if you hold me without hurting me, you’ll be the first who ever did.” — cinnamon girl by lana del rey
Stroke of Midnight
12 Days of Dickmas - Theodore Nott x Reader
Summary: Theo and Mattheo help you get over your fear of heights in very fun ways 👀🎁
Warnings: 18+, MDNI, SMUT, chars 18+, modern au, dom!theo, dom!mattheo, threesome, new years hook up, DP, spitroast, rough sex, anal, creampies, PIV, semi public sex, pussy eating, throat fucking, choking, spitting, nipple play, degrading, dirty talk, dom&sub, mattheodore ruining us👀
All morning the two guys who you had come to know as Theo and Mattheo, constantly flirted with you in the small ski lodge cafe where you worked. You found it cute. Endearing. The way they practically fought over on who could out flirt you.
Not expecting to see them again, especially so close to the cafe closing time. It was New Year’s Eve and not like you had plans or anything but you wanted to be home in your bed. That’s when two sets of snowy legs wandered in.
You were met with the two attractive males from earlier and laughed as you shook your head. “Can I help you two?” You asked them in a teasing tone. They both glanced at each other with smirks before facing your gaze.
“Well, you’re closing up right?” Mattheo asked lowly, stalking toward you as he ran a hand through his fluffy curls, Theodore’s smirk only growing wider. “Yeah- why?” Confusion plastered over you.
But Theodore and Mattheo had other plans in mind. “Come to the peak with us…” Theo’s accent rolled off his tongue, making you shudder while he took a step toward you. “Oh…I uh…I can’t-“
How do I even explain this without looking like a total wimp? Fuck. “Why not?” Matt cocked an eyebrow to you, the both of them crossing their toned arms over their chests. “Well….”
You began, the lights slowly shutting off in the cafe as you sighed. Your gaze flickered back and forth between the two men. “I’m terrified of heights- okay? Ski lifts and whatever are not my thing.”
Explaining yourself, Theodore gave you a sympathetic look but Mattheo continued to smirk, clicking his tongue against his cheek. “Come on pretty girl…You have us…” the curly-haired one started and your heart raced.
“Yeah…We’ll take real good care of you, Tesoro…” The Italian said lowly and you swore your heart would be bursting from your chest. Your face flushing up from the two attractive guys. How could I say no?
“I….I don’t know…I guess?” Almost questioning if this was even the right decision, the boys smiled from ear to ear as they started to walk out and you followed. “Don’t worry, Bella— we can take the gondola…It’s enclosed so you’ll feel safer”
Theodore seemed sweet, kind, and thoughtful. Your already cherried face turned even more red as you grabbed your coat and headed into the snowy night with them.
Next in line for the gondola were the three of you. Half an hour until midnight. You shivered a bit and felt the anxiety rise. “Ah— come on now doll, nothing to be nervous about. You have us!” Matt exclaimed, causing Theo to chuckle.
“Mattheo can be an idiot— regardless we’ll be with you. Seems like we’ll be ringing in the new year together-“
New years. With strangers. Hot strangers. Not too bad. You just nodded your head. The coldness getting to you but Theodore threw an arm around you, pulling you close. “Cold, Cara Mia?”
Nodding your head, your nose felt numb, reddened from the brisk air. “Just a little…” The cloud of your breath in the air had you shudder but then the bars opened and all three of you waltzed into the gondola.
At first, you sat across from the two of them. Anxiously fidgeting with the rings on your fingers as you glanced from each window. “Relax…Breath…It’ll be okay” Mattheo reassured with a chuckle.
“Are you sure?” You questioned the both of them softly as Theo hit you with yet another sympathetic gaze before quickly plopping next to you. Giving Mattheo a challenging grin. Throwing his arm around you. “Very sure—“
The Italians strong arm wrapped around you helped the nerves you felt as the gondola started to rise. The metal whirred as you ascended up the mountain. However, you stayed quiet.
Ten minutes or so had passed of silence and Theo and Mattheo messing with each other. But you were in your own head. Suddenly you heard a loud screech, the gondola coming to a halt.
“W-what’s happening?!”
Practically shouting your words, panic started to form inside of you. Your vision getting blurry and Mattheo instantly stood up to come sit on the other side of you. “I’m not sure…” He mumbled to himself as Theo tried to look down below.
That’s when an alarm went off on the speakers before a voice spoke through. “Due to maintenance, we have come to a quick stop! Don’t worry we will be back up and running shortly. We apologize for the inconvenience.”
Fuck. Me. Just my luck huh? You must’ve looked pretty shaken up because now Matt’s arm was also around you and it was taking everything in you to not break down in tears.
“Hey- hey- hey! It’ll be okay— hey! Look at me!” Theodore grabbed your chin, forcing your gaze to meet his. Those inviting ocean eyes. “S-sorry…I’m just….Scared” You admitted quietly, feeling Mattheo’s fingers dance through your lush locks soothingly.
“I know…But it’ll be alright…We just need a distraction!” Mattheo chuckled but your eyes remained glued to Theo’s. You noticed him glance at your lips and your heart flipped.
He seemed to inch closer and closer, your breath getting hitched in your throat. “You’re right, riddle…And I think I know just the thing-“ Before you could even process everything, Theo slammed his lips to yours.
You didn’t even try to fight it, he tasted fucking amazing and he was right- this was a distraction. Hearing Mattheo scoff, he gripped your hair tightly, his free hand going to your thigh.
The kiss between you and Theo only deepened, Mattheo grazing his lips across the side of your neck ever so softly, causing a soft moan to whimper from you. But you didn’t stop it. Not in the least.
“If I wasn’t mistaken…”
Mattheo’s voice was low and raspy against your flesh as he teasingly bit along it, surely leaving little love marks as he went on.
“…You’re fucking loving this…You wanna take us both, Angel?”
He muttered against your collarbone, Theo groaning into the kiss as your hand went down to his pants. Feeling the throbbing boner in between his snow pants.
Mattheo growled, opening up your jacket and kneeling between your legs. Slowly working your own pants and panties off. “Fuckin hell Nott- She has one pretty fucking pussy…”
The vulgarity of his words caused you to whimper between the steamy make out of you and Theodore. The Italian chuckled at Matt’s response as one hand went to your shirt, tugging it down along with your bra to scoop up a breast of yours.
All of the sensations surely were making you forget about your fear of heights. Lost in the bliss of both of the men. Suddenly, a gasp emitted from your throat as Mattheo buried himself between your thighs.
“Feels good does it, Tesoro?”
Theodore asked, purring teasingly against your swollen lips, your foreheads now touching as your submissive gaze flickered between his own. “—Mhhhhmmm…” You managed to mumble out while Mattheo’s tongue worked in indescribable circles along your clit.
With a swift movement, Theo stole a quick peck from you before standing up and wiggling down his pants. Grabbing a fistful of your silky locks. “Good girl- now choke on my cock—“
With a growl, you barely parted your lips as he shoved his massive length down your throat. Slamming his hips against your face while he throat fucked you— Mattheo’s tongue flicking and licking as fast as he could.
Tears pricked your eyes as you fought to keep your glossed-over gaze up on the Italian- a smirk painting over his chiseled face. “You’re close aren’t you?”
You knew your muffled moans vibrating along his dick was probably giving it away and you nodded your head through his plunges in your mouth. “No— Riddle stop,” Theo demanded and Matt shot up, your juices dripping off of his chin.
“The first time I want her to cum…”
Theo shifted over next to Mattheo as he stood up and wiped his mouth. Smirking to each other, Matt moved over to where Theo stood before.
“…I want it to soak my cock—“ Theodore growled, his ocean eyes darkening into a sea of black. With a swift movement, he positioned himself between your legs, teasing his sensitive tip along your leaky slit.
“Y-yes…Fuck—“ Stuttering to yourself, your eyes dashed between the two men, feeling the gondola swing ever so slightly as they shifted over to new positions. “Beg for it-“
Theodore’s domineering tone sent a shiver down your spine- “Please-“ However before you could finish any begging, Matt shoved his cock between your lips, thrusting slowly.
“Keep going—“ The Italian said through gritted teeth, still teasing his throbbing length across your pussy. “P-please…God…Please fuck me- Please!” You spoke over Mattheo’s cock.
Theo hung his head back and let out an animalistic growl before slamming deep inside of your needy cunt. “Cazzo— So fuckin’ wet for us, huh?” He taunted you, Mattheo shooting him a shit-eating grin.
“She loves being spit roasted—“ Mattheo mumbled out deeply, fucking your throat even harder. But you? You were a fucking blissful mess between the two of them. Feeling your eyes already start to roll in the back of your head.
You could feel your orgasm approaching quickly, and your body starting to tremble with euphoric pleasure. “I think she’s getting close, Nott—“ Matt said through a low groan, turned on by the simple sexual aura of you.
“Is that so, Cara mia?”
The question had your submissive stare dancing over to Theo’s. Giving him a subtle head nod through Mattheo’s plows down your throat. Surely you’d have no voice tomorrow.
Theodore slammed his cock faster inside of you, snaking down his hand to apply pressure with his thumb around your clit. Swirling it around in tiny little circles. “Release for me—“
His demand along with all of the other sensations your body was experiencing, Sent you into an earth-shattering orgasm. Your wetness flowed freely down his throbbing length.
“Good fuckin’ girl— Cazzo-“
Theodore slowed down his thrusts, letting the afterglow wash over you while Mattheo pulled out of your mouth. The drool dripping from between your lips. “Fuck— I need to fuck her- feel her…”
Matt sounded hungry, something rumbling within him. However, you noticed the way Theo’s lips curled In a sinister manner. “How do you feel ‘bout anal, pretty girl?” He asked you, Mattheo letting a low chuckle rasp from his throat.
With widened eyes, you could feel your heart thump loudly against your chest. “I-I don’t mind it— I haven’t done it in a while though—“ Speaking shyly, Theodore raised his brows. “What about tonight…Could we both…Fill up those pretty holes of yours?”
With his question, excitement gleamed within Mattheo’s eyes and you swallowed. Fuck it. Why not right? “Y-yes…fuck- please do.” You practically begged the two men and Theo sat down on the seat across, stroking his cock while waiting for you.
Stumbling over, your legs shook with sensitivity, another taunting chuckle escaping Mattheo as he stalked behind you. “We will ease into it- yeah, Tesoro?” Theo murmured across your cheek as you turned around.
Theo’s hands spread your ass cheeks, spitting right onto your little hole before rubbing his thumb over it. He helped lower you onto his length, hissing from the foreign sensation. “Relax—“
Your head shot up to Mattheo’s eager voice, jerking himself off as Theo eased himself into your ass. You obliged, relaxing your body as Theodore slowly pumped himself inside of you.
“Fuck!— Little asshole is so fuckin’ tight-“
Moaning through his words, you didn’t feel pain or pressure…Just pleasure as he fully entered inside of you. Matt now walking up to your spread legs. “You’re such a hot little slut—“
Riddle complimented you but not wasting any time as he pushed his needy cock inside of your already stretched cunt, pounding into you mercilessly. One of his hands going around your throat and gripping hard.
Theo took this time to grab both of your breasts, pinching your nipples to a feeling of ecstasy. You felt so incredibly full and your mind was fuzzy with the immense amount of pleasure soaring within you.
“You weren’t wrong, Nott— She has a damn good pussy-“
The Italian just smirked over at his friend while he helped you move on his cock. You couldn’t even speak, get your raunchy thoughts out. But suddenly you felt that familiar feeling.
“I-I— don’t stop!— Fuck!- I’m gonna cum!”
Screaming with pleasure, you saw fucking stars as you hit yet another climax, this time even more intense than the first. Squirting out onto Matt’s length you swore you physically saw his eyes darken.
“Good girl— feeling so good and full, huh?” Theo spoke right against your ear, but judging by his groans he was close himself. Mattheo’s grip around your throat only tightened. “Such a good girl— gonna make me cum in this pretty cunt-“
You nodded your head, feeling Theo tugging on your nipples harder as they both seemed to fuck you harder. “Give me your cum— both of you— I want it— Fuck!- I want it inside of me— please!”
Crying out your beg, Theodore started pounding deeper inside of your hole, hearing a low growl emitting from his chest before Mattheo fucked your cunt like it was a damn need. His head shot back as he groaned loudly.
Feeling the both of them reach their own orgasm, their cocks throbbed within your walls with the sticky seed they both filled you up with. The three of you caught in haggard breaths.
You were about to speak, to say something. Anything. But you just simply relaxed against Theodore who wrapped his arms around you, his dick still balls deep in your ass while Mattheo pulled out of your cum filled cunt.
Theo leaned up to press a soft yet lingering kiss to your cheek. You couldn’t have believed you had done this but fuck- you weren’t upset about it in the least. Just as you found your words the speakers roared.
“Happy New Year to all of our guests! The lifts will be running here shortly!”
On the 12th day of Dickmas we get… Mattheo and Theodore destroying us🫦🎁
Divider pinned in my masterlist🌙
I can’t believe it’s the end of Dickmas! I hope all my smut sluts and naughty nymphs have enjoyed coming on this wild ride with me! Happy new years, I love you all bunches!💋
i know i’m biased when it comes to this au (aka my favorite ever), but this was so fucking amazing i’m gagged (in a good way). like always, how can you be so good at everything? 😡
"hey, you gotta sit still f'me or you won't survive this, a'ight?" the masked man holding a gun in front of you hisses through his teeth, his deep, intense voice muffled as he spreads your legs.
this has barely begun and i’m already crying on the floor. the imagery is so real, plus i would be like a dog in heat if he said this to me (even more with a gun in his hand) 👩🦯
"not that i care."
i’m sorry but i actually love mean mattheo 😔
under the mask
he’s wearing a mask??????? bye %#*%#^ and *%$@
he then unexpectedly pushes the gun into your soaked hole, the action anything but gentle-
one more time—the imaginary is amazing
i really want to talk about this, because it’s so real. i love that he’s everything but gentle during sex, plus THE GUN. i would 💦💦💦💦 so fast, he would hit me (amen)
"poor thing, your heart is beating so fast... don't worry. i'll be careful, princess."
"but uh, i just can't control these shaky hands sometimes... what a shame it would be if my finger slipped and accidentally pulled the trigger."
son. of. a. bitch. idk if i want to fuck him or kill him—maybe BOTH.
also i’m curious to know what would happen—so i might let him 🦭 ari you’re the best when it comes to dialogue during sex
before you can protest, he roughly drags the gun nearly out of your cunt,
"ah ah ah; be a good girl f'me and keep those pretty legs spread, yeah?" he orders, shaking his masked head in disapproval as his hand increases its pace.
for a moment, i was sad, but then the sadness ran away from my body and boom, i was back to being a bitch in heat—still can’t get over that he’s wearing a mask—my legs don’t approve of this, but you know what else does 🤲🏻
anyways, final review: 5 ⭐️ like always, because i genuinely can’t point out anything bad. i was hooked from the beginning until the end
i’m a purge au truther 🦭
FIFTEEN. gunplay — the purge au mattheo riddle
warnings — smut 18+. dubcon. gunplay (mattheo fucks reader with his gun). mask kink. purge night. you are responsible for your own media consumption.
kinkmas mlist. moodboard. more.
“hey, you gotta sit still f’me or you won’t survive this, a’ight?” the masked man holding a gun in front of you hisses through his teeth, his deep, intense voice muffled as he spreads your legs. you’re unsure what he wants from you after breaking into your house on purge night, but you fear the worst as you tremble beneath him, gazing up at him through eyelashes with fat tears threatening to fall from your waterline.
“not that i care.” he mutters under his breath, raking the barrel over your exposed cunt, your ripped panties already tossed to the floor. you’re trembling in fear, your brows furrowed in nervousness, yet, you still can’t help but feel somewhat turned on? and he notices it too, chuckling lowly under the mask as his brown eyes are drawn to your dripping pussy.
he then unexpectedly pushes the gun into your soaked hole, the action anything but gentle— the sharp edges of the hard metal make you instinctively clench even tighter around it, as you scream out in both pain and pleasure. you don’t have to see his face to know that he’s smirking behind the mask, relishing in the fear and pain radiating off you.
his head dips closer, the heavy, muffled breaths through the mask only frightening you more.
“poor thing, your heart is beating so fast… don’t worry. i’ll be careful, princess.” you feel a sense of relief at his unexpectedly caring words, spoken in such a soothing manner— but that false sense of relief doesn’t last long.
“but uh, i just can’t control these shaky hands sometimes… what a shame it would be if my finger slipped and accidentally pulled the trigger.”
your eyes widen as the masked man chuckles wickedly. you can see his erection clearly now, and it’s almost as if he’s getting harder the more fear he sees on your pretty face.
before you can protest, he roughly drags the gun nearly out of your cunt, before pushing it back inside, causing you to whimper uncomfortably at the unusual feeling. you instinctively try to close your legs, but he catches on immediately, grabbing your inner thigh and pushing it open until your muscles ache from the stretch.
“ah ah ah; be a good girl f’me and keep those pretty legs spread, yeah?” he orders, shaking his masked head in disapproval as his hand increases its pace. the gun painfully drags against your walls, but still, your wetness drips down the cold metal and all over his hands, the slick sounds of your wet pussy echoing through your ominously dark room.
“tsk… such a dirty fuckin’ slut, huh? turns out i broke into the right house tonight. and if you’re lucky, i might just return next year…”
── ⟢ ・⸝⸝
reminder: reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated and keep me motivated. ty! ♡
𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄
mattheo riddle x fem reader
SUMMARY. in wich your boyfriend thinks the best way to spice up the relationship is by playing hide and seek. WORDS. 4.7K+. english is not my first language. N/A. literally have no fucking idea, i was having a mental breakdown and this came out. (hated it)
WARNINGS. smut, mdni, knife play, kinda mean!mattheo, porn w//plot, aged up characters, rough sex, established relationship, unprotected pnv, hard chocking, swearing, ass slapping, licking, making out, blood kink.
masterlist -> navigation -> mattheo masterlist
Being satisfied.
Mattheo was sure that he was not asking for too much. Or at least, that’s what he kept telling himself over and over again for the last few weeks, but lately, satisfaction seemed out of reach—almost like an impossibility—and no matter how hard he tried, a fucked up emptiness was still there, tattooed on his very being as the control flipped down his fingers.
It was maddening. Absolutely maddening. He was certain he was losing control of his own body, of his mind, and just that thought alone made him feel nauseous; he felt like someone was twisting his stomach, slowly and painfully; and that wasn’t him. Being fucking miserable like this? That had never been him.
He was Mattheo Riddle, for fuck’s sake.
He never lost control; he thrived on it—he was the fucking embodiment of control. He controlled himself, his actions, and, most importantly, everything around him: Quidditch strategies, his routines, his grades, but above all, his relationships and everyone around him. But lately, everything felt off...vague, as if everything he had carefully built was slipping away, leaving him exposed and raw.
He felt like a wreck, in every sense of the word.
And the worst part? It wasn’t just affecting him anymore; the worst part was that it had started to affect his relationship with you. You, the only person he genuinely gave a shit about, the only person who mattered to him, the only person he couldn’t let slip away. That was the fucking problem.
In the beginning, everything was perfect, so goddamn perfect that sometimes he was fucking terrified to wake up and find out it had all been a dream, a goddamn illusion that his own mind created to punish him. The truth was that being with you was like a goddamn drug—in the best, most fucked-up way. It was addictive, intoxicating, and never lost its thrill.
The way your bodies fit together, how you let yourself get lost in the things he did to you, how he knew your body by the tip of his tongue—it was all fucking exciting. And you? You never dared to say no to anything he asked, no matter how sick it sounded; that was what made him want to keep you locked up, all to himself.
And for a while it was all he needed.
But Mattheo wasn’t the type of man who loved gently or held himself back when it came to relationships. He never knew how to give just a piece of himself, and in return, he took everything from you, consuming you in ways that were almost humanly impossible. He always wanted to possess, to have power, and with you, it was no exception.
No matter how much he tried to suppress it, the need to control you, to use you, was becoming unbearable, and Mattheo was sure that it was turning into physical pain; he could feel it in his ribs.
And besides all that bullshit, lately, the little control he had over you felt more fragile than ever, as if something had shifted in a weird way, something he couldn’t quite pinpoint, but it was fucking there, eating him alive, almost destroying his mind and opening his ribs; there was a part of you he could no longer reach, no matter how hard he tried, and it was driving him insane—he was furious with himself, and a twisted part of him was even furious with you.
He knew it didn’t make any sense, at least not to him. After all, he still fucked you in every way he could—rough, slow, and sometimes, when he was feeling nice enough, even with a strange kind of tenderness, Mattheo fucked you until you were both so drenched in sweat that your bodies stuck together like glue. But even that wasn’t enough.
He was not satisfied.
It wasn't that being with you was horrible... fuck no! He would never say that, because he knew that if he did, it would only be a lie to hide the sexual frustration that was haunting him like a ghost. And if there was one thing he definitely wasn't, it was a liar. Besides, you were the only girl he dared to touch more than once, the only one he didn't toss aside like the others, the only one he fucking surrendered himself to—not just to blow off steam.
He knew he couldn’t be with anyone else but you. But lately, something was missing, something different, something more obscene, something more…him.
Mattheo couldn’t shake the feeling that he needed to spice up the things in your relationship; he was done with the same shitty routine over and over again—he needed to push the limits of what he had with you, to push you further, to fuck you even better than he ever did.
He needed to fight for the relationship, fight for you.
It was then that an idea popped into his mind. A game. Something as twisted as it was intimate, something that would push the two of you into new territory that would push him toward the satisfaction he so desperately sought.
Hide and seek.
He knew it was probably a sick idea, a really sick one, but the way the thought consumed him, how it gripped his mind, and how the mere idea of hunting you down in a dark room with nothing but his filthy thoughts and a knife made his cock throb was impossible to ignore, especially after weeks feeling like shit, like a failure as a partner.
The truth was, Mattheo couldn’t stop himself—not when every nerve in his body burned with the desperate need for the satisfaction he craved and not when he finally found a way to solve his problems. He couldn't let you slip away, not when you were the only one who ever mattered to him.
He’d spent way too much time drowning in frustration, feeling his satisfied façade crumble, feeling the control he valued so much slip through his fingers like fucking sand.
But this—this fucked-up, twisted game—was how he’d take it all back. How he’d finally feel in control again, finallyfeel like he had all of you exactly where, to him, you truly belonged. To remind himself that you were still his—to wreck, to ruin, and to use however he wanted.
And that thought alone sent a rush of adrenaline through his veins.
So Mattheo approached you with caution, whispering sweet but fake words to tempt you, tracing his thumb along your thigh, offering you a false sense of security that he was waiting to take away. Looking into your eyes, almost pleading, begging for the uncertainty to finally leave them.
He offered you space to process what he wanted, making you think you had a choice, even though he knew he had already pushed you toward a thing you couldn’t refuse. And when you finally said yes, satisfaction washed over him, and he wasted no time pushing you into the game.
The small room was dim, with the only light coming through the large crystal windows. The setting afternoon sun streamed through the colored glass, casting soft, vibrant hues over the dusty old furniture and the cold stone walls. Strangely, it brought an odd sense of comfort and freedom to a space that otherwise felt heavy and stifling with what was happening inside.
The room was silent except for the faint creak of the floorboards beneath his slow, deliberate steps. Somewhere in the darkened corners, Mattheo moved like a shadow, his fingers wrapped around the cool silver of the knife, the blade glinting faintly in the dim light.
He wasn’t rushing—no, he wanted to savor this, to draw it out for as long as possible, and he knew that even if you couldn’t see him, a part of you could feel him and listen to his footsteps.
You were in the other corner of the room, your back pressed against the edge of an old desk, the cool wood biting your skin through the fabric of your shirt, your breath was shallow as you tried to stay as quiet as possible, determined not to catch Mattheo’s attention. The dim light filtering through the colored glass windows barely reached you; keeping you concealed in the shadows was the only advantage in this twisted game.
Every inch of your body felt wired, tense, your pulse quickening with each passing second, yet you could feel your pussy starting to get wet with anticipation of being haunted.
“Sweetheart.” He called in a purr, his voice smooth, slicing through the silence. It was the first word he’d spoken since he’d given you time to hide and entered the room, and you couldn’t help but press your hand to your chest, trying to steady your racing heart. “You’re hiding well... it’s almost cute, really.” Mattheo’s words were filled with mockery as he moved his head around, his eyes scanning the shadows of the room, searching for any sign of you.
He stopped near a bookshelf, casually flipping the knife between his fingers, the blade gliding effortlessly with every lazy movement. His dark brown eyes scanned the room, and he held his breath, savoring the familiar, sweet, and addictive scent of your perfume that filled his nostrils, quickening his pulse and making his heart skip a beat with anticipation. Yet, the scent was still too faint, and he knew you were still far from him.
And that made him even more eager to play, to catch you and use you as he wanted.
He tilted his head slightly, straining to catch any sound, but the room remained silent, save for the faint rustle of old books settling on the shelves and the distant hum of the castle beyond. Mattheo chuckled to himself. You were good—too fucking good for your own good. He couldn’t hear a thing. No sharp inhale, no shift of weight against the wooden floor, nothing to give you away. And he couldn’t help but feel a strange sensation of pride.
A slow, cruel smirk curled at the corners of his lips as he tapped the flat side of the knife against his palm, the sound barely breaking the silence of the stone walls. You were making this interesting—dragging it out, pushing him to the edge, making him hard, testing his patience. But patience? That was never his strong suit, and it never would be.
Mattheo’s footsteps echoed faintly as he began to move again, the knife still shifting between his fingers with that unnerving ease. His eyes scanned the room attentively, every inch of it, studying the shadows, waiting for the slightest slip—a twitch, a breath, the faintest shift in the air that would give you away.
But nothing did.
You held your breath even longer, your hand pressing against your chest as your fingers dug into the fabric of your shirt in a futile attempt to steady yourself against the nervousness that made your heart pound violently against your ribs—and the need now pulsing deep in your now wet cunt.
“Are you trembling right now, aren’t you?” His voice was a quiet hiss, the words almost dripping with a twisted amusement that sent another shiver down your spine. You could hear the satisfaction in his tone, his words dripping with that familiar sense of control. “Holding your breath? Hoping I’ll just walk right past you?”
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” the voice in your head cursed as you felt his footsteps drawing closer, desperately trying to control the frantic pulse of your throbbing cunt.
Despite Mattheo’s footsteps, the room felt too still, too quiet—like you were holding onto every second, every inch of space between you and him. But he still could smell you, your scent growing stronger with every passing moment, enough to make his pants tighten around his cock, and then he finally could hear the faintest breath that made his blood burn with desire through his veins, and he wanted nothing more than to push you, to see you crack, to take this game further until you bleed.
His hand clenched tighter around the knife, the grip intensifying as he took another step, shaking his head violently to refocus on the task… breaking you? Well, that could come later.
He was going to make sure of it.
Your breathing quickened with the adrenaline, your heart pounding violently against your ribs as his footsteps grew louder, the vicious scent of his cologne intensifying with his proximity. You gripped the fabric of your skirt between your trembling fingers in a futile attempt to calm your nerves and to stop the excitement that was now dripping between your legs, hardening your nipples.
“Come on, sweetheart, I know you’re close; I can feel it.” Mattheo’s voice came out sweet, and you knew that was the exact opposite of the intentions that had him searching for you so eagerly. “You’re really making me work for it, huh?” He asked, gently squeezing the knife in his palm, the weak lights of the room casting the shadow of the metal on the wall in front of you. “Cute.”
You cringed at the falsely sweet tone his voice carried as you tried to hold your breath even tighter, bringing your trembling knees to your chest in a nearly stupid effort to stop your pussy from growing even wetter at the sound of his manipulative words.
Mattheo stopped suddenly, his brown eyes flicking across the big dark room, narrowing slightly as they scanning every corner for any sign of you. His fingers toyed with the knife, the blade catching the light as he stood still, trying to hear even the smallest sound.
He could feel the impatience growing, clawing at him, but it didn’t dull the ache in his cock—in fact, it only made him harder. The thrill of catching you, of fucking you into the oblivion, made the excitement burn even more.
“Don’t make me wait any longer, love,” he said again, his voice rougher than before, almost like a threat. “The longer you make me wait, the worse it’s going to be for you.” He chuckled low, sending a shiver down your spine, and your heart raced even faster than it already was.
You glanced up at the ceiling, noticing how his shadow was growing bigger and bigger by the second. He was getting closer to your hiding spot, making you instinctively rub your legs together in a desperate attempt to ease the heat growing between them.
Mattheo cursed under his breath, his impatience growing as he scanned the room once more, searching for any shadow that might betray your position.
When no sign appeared, he sighed again, this time with a touch of irritation; the silence was starting to get to him, but it didn’t last long, because a wicked idea flashed in his mind, and a cruel smirk curled on his lips, and in an instant, he slammed his foot against the wooden floor with all his strength.
The loud sound of his foot hitting the floor echoed through the empty room, so sharp against the silence that without thinking, without noticing, you jumped back, slamming into the table behind you. The movement was small but enough to knock over a stack of books, which crashed to the floor, the noise even louder than his footsteps.
You couldn’t help but curse yourself under your breath, realizing the mistake you’d made, your heart nearly leaping out of your throat.
Mattheo stopped instantly, a low chuckle slipping from his lips as he tightened his grip on the knife in his hand. His eyes locked onto the spot where the books had fallen, and a slow, malicious smirk spread across his face. He tilted his head mockingly, his gaze glinting with amusement when he caught a small glimpse of your head peeking out from behind the desk where you were hiding from him.
Without giving you a chance to run, he moved toward you swiftly, his heavy footsteps echoing off the walls, blending with your shallow, frantic breathing, and before you could even blink, Mattheo was right there, standing over you like you were nothing but his goddamn prey.
“Finally found you, sweetheart,” he said, his voice dripping with mockery, the way he said “sweetheart” making it clear he was loving every second of your discomfort. His eyes never left yours, and he could feel his pants tightening around his hard cock as the panic in your eyes grew.
Oh, there it was—the excitement he had been craving for so long.
You swallowed hard, your hand gripping the edge of the table you were leaning on for support, trying to ignore the dampness already soaking through your panties and the way his eyes were still locked onto your body, his fingers casually playing with the small knife in his hand as you stood in front of him.
“Yeah, i guess you found me” you said, your voice shaky as you tried to steady your shaky legs. “Satisfied now?” You forced yourself to meet his gaze, though all it did was make his twisted smirk grow even wider.
Mattheo took a final step, standing right in front of you. His free hand landed on your hip, his grip so tight it would surely leave a bruise. The coldness of his palm against your warm skin made you shiver involuntarily, and he couldn’t help but let out a low, knowing laugh at the way your body reacted to him, your pussy tightening at the rough, throaty noise.
It was always like this, always—you trying to hold your ground while your trembling legs threatened to give out, even if you tried to resist the urge to drop to your knees right in front of him, you trying to challenge him, when in reality, all you wanted was to have your wet pussy filled with his big cock and feel him pump you full of his cum.
The same thing happened each and every time, regardless of how you two fucked, and he felt dumb for ever thinking that this time would be different.
Still, he wasn't complaining, since it made the game much more entertaining.
“No, not yet,” he whispered, leaning forward, your faces so close that his warm breath brushed against your skin. His free hand massaged your hip gently, his thumb stroking your skin in a way that was both mocking and soft, and you pressed your thighs together, trying to control the throbbing between your legs.
Mattheo’s hand left your hip, his fingers tangling in your hair with a strength that had you gasping in surprise as he yanked your face closer to his.
His breath mingled with yours—hot—and you could feel the press of his hard cock against you; still, he kept his lips just out of reach, teasing you. “Be a good girl,” he whispered, the words almost a command. “Show me your tongue, love.”
“And why?” you asked, your voice trembling as you tried to keep your composure, but it was impossible. The air between you thickened as he pushed his hips forward, his clothed cock pressing against the top of your panties, making you whimper.
“Show. Me. Your. Fucking. Tongue.” He repeated like a command, his fingers tightening in your hair as he pulled you even closer. The grip on your scalp made a sudden soft escape your lips—somewhere between a moan and a whimper. “Now.” He ordered, and you quickly opened your mouth, your wet muscle sliding out to meet him, and you felt his cock throbbing harder against you.
“Such a good girl for me,” he praised you almost softly, and before you could react, he stuck his own tongue out of his mouth and gave yours a slow, tentative lick, making you shiver and whine with the contact, and then before you could even open your eyes again, he crashed his lips against yours in a heated kiss, full of teeth and tongue.
You moan into the kiss, feeling your tongues roughly clash against each other, teeth hitting with an brutal force as you taste each other’s lips, almost as if you were claiming again a territory that had belonged to both of you for a long time.
Your lips moved against each other in a frantic and aggressive rhythm, your tongues so intertwined that neither of you could tell where one ended and the other began. Mattheo let out a low groan, his cock growing even harder as the kiss deepened, and his grip on your hair loosened just enough for his hand to slide under your skirt.
He grabbed the flesh of your ass tightly, squeezing it tightly with a strength that would surely leave a mark before yanking you forward, grinding your hips against his, forcing you to feel the full weight of his hard cock pressing against you.
“Such a good fucking ass,” Mattheo growled against your mouth, fingers digging harshly into your ass as he thrust his hips into you, the rough friction making you whimper against his lips, your cunt dripping from the pressure alone.
He could already feel his damn frustration fading away, little by little.
His hand tightened on your ass, pulling you closer, making you gasp at the sudden pressure. Before you could react with another whine, you felt his teeth bite your bottom lip, breaking the skin enough to make the taste of your blood linger in both of your tongues. He grunted in satisfaction, savoring the familiar taste, and you felt how hard he was pressing his cock against your clothed pussy.
Without warning, he slapped your ass sharply, the impact leaving you surprised, a mark of his fingers on your sensitive skin. Almost immediately, he gave another slap, this one softer but still enough for the sting to make you shudder, biting down on your already bloodied lip.
Mattheo moved away from your body a little bit, a wicked smile twisting his lips as he kept just enough distance to leave you yearning for more, wanting him to finally fuck you the way he intended there and then. His pupils were dilated as he looked at you, and you met his gaze, agitated and breathless.
"Mattheo, please!" you pleaded, trying to ignore the pain on your lip, your brow wrinkled slightly due to the lack of friction you were experiencing. Yet, he only laughed, mocking you, finding it amusing that you were nearly as frustrated as he had been previously.
“Oww, are you anxious, sweetheart?” He blinked, pretending innocence, the hand that had been gripping your skin now tucking a stray lock of your messy hair behind your ear in a mockingly sweet gesture. “Poor, poor girl…” he taunted you, his eyes drifting to the small blade in his free hand, anxiously waiting to mark your skin.
He already had the prey; he only needed to cut it.
Mattheo pressed the flat edge of the knife against his palm, his grip tightening as he slowly dragged it down your skin. A shiver raced through you, and you held your breath as the cold, sharp blade grazed your sensitive flesh.
“What you’re trying to do?” you asked, your voice shaky as you watched the knife press harder against your skin.
But he didn’t answer. Instead, he grabbed you by the waist and slammed your back against his chest, your feet stumbling to catch up as he dragged you with him. His arm locked around your stomach, keeping you pressed to him, making your head spin, and a soft gasp escaped your bruised lips when you felt his hard cock pressed against your ass.
Mattheo’s grip tightened around your waist, his chest resting against your back as he roughly pushed you into that position, giving him a better view of your ass. Another gasp escaped your lips when you felt his hand slide up to your throat, his fingers tightening around your skin, almost like a reminder of who was in control. Who the fucking prey was.
“Stay fucking still,” he breathed against your ear, his breath hot as he continued to press his clothed hard cock against you, and you obey, trying to ignore the pain of his grip tightening around your neck.
Your pulse hammered under his strong grip, your throat tightening as you swallowed, yet Mattheo only tightened his hold in response, his satisfaction growing with every painful whimper that escaped your lips and every shudder that ran through your already weak legs.
His other hand—the one holding the sharp knife—moved slowly down your stomach, the handle brushing against your skin as he slid the blade lower and lower. Mattheo couldn’t help but smirk even more as he felt your body tremble again and again, his cock pulsing, sensing the way you seemed to shrink back against him.
Mattheo was savoring every second of it, watching you squirm, watching the nerves take over, watching you hold your breath, waiting for the inevitable pain. That was what he wanted, what he needed—to regain control, to own you. You, the one who held his heart in your hands like it was nothing. If he controlled you, you could never hurt him, never break his heart, never crush it with your touch. So, he was just taking the safe option.
Control you before you even realize you were controlling him.
In a swift move, he yanked your skirt and panties down, exposing the soft flesh of your ass even more and your wet folds to the cold air. The sudden vulnerability made your stomach twist in a mix of nervousness and anticipation, but you barely had time to process it before Mattheo thrust one of his knees between your legs, forcing your thighs to open wider, giving him a clear view of your cunt.
“Such a perfect little pussy…” He whispered against your ear, his breath sending goosebumps down your body. “Hands on the table. Now,” he ordered. His hand remained firm on your neck, choking you, his voice dripping with dark mockery, as if he knew exactly what you were feeling. And he did. He knew, and he planned to use it all to his own advantage.
His fingers clenched around your neck more tightly when you hesitated, pressing with such force that you choked slightly—the gesture almost like a silent warning.
"You really think you can disobey me, slut?" He whispered, letting out a dark, dry laugh as he rubbed his covered length on your bare cunt, causing you to whine. “You know better than to piss me the fuck off. Especially when I have a knife in my hand. Don’t fucking test me.”
You followed the command, stifling a moan as his hands tightened around your neck, your shaking hands resting on the wooden surface, your fingers turning white from the pressure.
Mattheo hummed in approval, rocking his hips harder against you, and you instinctively rolled your ass against him, eager for more contact, his grip on your neck loosened just enough for his thumb to caress your jaw—mocking, almost caring.
Then, he finally pressed the cold blade into your ass, and you held your breath, feeling your heart slamming against your ribs.
He muttered, "Stay still," and bit down on your ear. You leaned into him—into the pain—knowing that this would be the closest thing to comfort he’d ever offer you in that moment.
And just when you let yourself relax a little on his grip, the first cut came.
Your eyes snapped shut with the new contact, and you trembled as the pain of your skin being sliced open hit you. Mattheo let out a chuckle, his cock throbbing harder at the sound of your whimpers and the sight of your eager, exposed pussy.
He pressed the blade harder, dragging it slowly and painfully across your skin, cutting through the soft flesh of your ass, still marked by his slaps.
Another shock of pain coursed through your whole body, and you let out a soft whimper, trying to move instinctively. But Mattheo’s grip on your neck only tightened, keeping you locked in place.
He wasn’t going to let you escape, not now that he was so close to getting what he wanted, to the satisfaction he was craving.
“Shhh, it’s just a game. Stay still, or you’ll make it worse.” His fingers tightened around your throat, cutting off your breath enough to make you struggle against his hold. Your head spun, your body fighting for breath, but strangely the adrenaline only turned you on more.
Reluctantly, you gave in, your fingers loosening their grip on the table as you allowed yourself to sink into his hold.
“Just like that, let me take care of you.” His voice dripped with false sweetness, but you let yourself fall for it, ignoring the burning pain in your marked ass as you tried to convince yourself it was worth it.
Mattheo dragged the knife further down, the cold blade scraping roughly over your skin, cutting into you and leaving a trail of blood behind before it finally tore through your flesh. You bit your lip hard, fighting back the scream clawing at your sore throat, your legs instinctively parting, offering him a clearer view of your dripping folds.
This time, it wasn’t just a cut—it was a permanent mark.
“Mine.”
The final stroke completed the “e,” and with each precise cut, you felt the heat of your own blood dripping down the curve of your ass, making your legs tremble more and more. The pain was sharp, but it made your heart race violently against your ribcage in a way you couldn’t explain; and yet his heartbeat mirrored yours, as if, after everything, he had finally regained control over you again.
Mattheo step back slightly, his hand loosening around your neck as he looked at the mess he’d made. He watched as your blood poured down your ass, staining your skin, tracing the deep cuts in thick, red lines. His eyes then moved lower, taking in the sight of your pussy pulsing with need, as if it were calling for him.
Fuck, he wanted to fuck your pussy so bad.
He placed the knife down slowly, his heart pounding in his chest, as he felt his cock straining against the zipper of his pants, watching your chest rise and fall, and your nipples pressed against the fabric of your shirt. His hand slid down to your ass, his fingers tracing the bloodstained marks, feeling the warm liquid collect beneath his nails.
Mattheo licked his lips before bringing his fingers to his mouth eagerly, sucking them clean, licking with the taste, savoring the metallic taste, as if, absorbing it as if by magic, your blood would mix with his.
“Your blood tastes so fucking good,” he muttered, sucking harder on his fingers. You blinked slowly, trying to keep the tears from spilling down your cheeks.
After one last slow lick of his fingers, Mattheo holds you again, a groan escaping his throat as he looks at your dripping cunt, and without wasting another second, he freed his hard cock from his pants, and with a single thrust, he slid himself inside your pussy.
“Ah, fuck!” You cried out in surprise as Mattheo's rigid cock entered you without warning, the force of his penetration making you almost sob. Yet instead of pulling back, he drove himself deeper, relishing the way your tight pussy clamped down on his throbbing cock. A low moan rumbled in his chest as he felt the familiar sensation of your inner walls around him.
“Even after all these months, you're still so fucking tight.” Mattheo groaned against your ear, his hips slamming against yours, the brutal force causing the blood pooling in your ass to trickle down and coat his skin. Each thrust pushing him deeper into your cunt, until the head of his cock was almost kissing your cervix, making your tender folds throb with the strange pleasure.
Fuck, he has been begging for this for months. Months begging for control, for satisfaction, and it was finally there; it was finally in his hands.
His hand tightened around your neck, making it hard to breathe, but he didn’t care. He only drove his cock deeper into you, forcing a loud moan from your lips as the pain from the fresh cuts burned through your skin, leaving you no chance to speak, no chance to even gasp his name.
You were almost certain that if he choked you just a little longer, or five more times, maybe even less, you’d be completely out of air—left to die right there with his cock still buried inside you.
But even though you couldn’t say his name or form a single coherent word, that didn’t stop the loud, desperate moans from spilling out of your bruised lips, your cries turning into broken, incoherent pleas as his grip on your throat tightened, dragging you closer to the edge.
“Yeah, just like that—moan like a fucking slut for me,” he breathed against your ear, his hot breath sending shivers down your spine. His large palm slid over your stomach, pressing you even harder against his muscular chest, forcing your fresh cuts to rub painfully against his bare pelvis. The sharp sting made you bite your lip to stifle a cry, your fingers tightening around the edge of the table as another type of pain spread through you.
The pain only pushed you closer to your orgasm.
Mattheo’s grip on your neck tightened, making it almost impossible for you to breathe, let alone moan. His hot breath ghosted over your ear as he fucked your pussy with deep, brutal thrusts, each one so relentless that you knew you wouldn’t be able to get out of bed tomorrow. Yet you didn’t say anything letting him chase what he needed.
“Only letting go of your throat when you fucking come like a bitch, sweetheart.” Mattheo moaned in your ear, his hips fucking you faster, burying himself to the hilt as he felt your walls clenching around his dick, signaling your climax. He knew that his own release was close, but he refused to acknowledge it, determined to push you over the edge first like a sick competition he was playing alone.
With three more thrusts, both you and Mattheo felt your pussy clamp down around his rigid length, your whimpering cries echoing through the room as you came, making him grunt in satisfaction. He finally loosened his grip on your throat, allowing you to gasp in relief, but he didn’t stop. He slammed into you one final time before his release hit him like a wave, his cock pulsing violently, spilling his hot cum deep inside your cunt.
After a moment of silence, Mattheo carefully pulled his cock out of your pussy, his breath still ragged as he watched his cum spill out of your hole, then he gently traced his fingers over the “mine” carved into your skin, brushing the marks softly, almost reverently, as if he was looking at a piece of art. The satisfaction he craved now has a permanent mark on you.
“Are you good now?” you asked softly, feeling the exhaustion take over your features as you tried to steady yourself and keep your eyes open despite the pleasant pain.
He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss on your bruised neck before whispering, “You can say that, sweetheart.”
© mattnott 𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝚍𝚘 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚛𝚎𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚝, 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚐𝚒𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚣𝚎, 𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚊𝚕, 𝚘𝚛 𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚜𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝚖𝚢 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚔.
hate this shit, the smut sucks but the idea is good, bye bye.
thank you to my girl @bucksplum for helping with the last paragraphs, i love you a lot <3
it’s 4 am so if you want to be rude, i will visit you in your nightmares or worse… (tomorrow i might edit better…or not
ly y’all stay safe and use condom
ಇ do i wanna know, hozier cover.
pairing. mattheo riddle x hufflepuff!quiet!reader
summary. sometimes, pansy knows exactly how to bring couples together. when mattheo, known for his grumpy mood, finds himself growing closer to a quiet, introspective girl, he must come to terms with feelings he never expected to have.
warnings. a bit of suggestive scene, but nothing explicit
add notes. I feel like my dialogues would never be said in real life.
visit my masterlist :)
ಇ
It was Pansy Parkinson’s birthday. The Parkinson Manor was a spectacle—a grand, ancient, and imposing structure, surrounded by meticulously tended trees. Its tall stone towers stood in stark contrast to the ethereal silver of the moon on that autumnal night, while the crisp air carried the fresh, melancholy scent of fallen leaves. The entrance hall sparkled with the glow of greenish lights that reflected off the polished marble floor. Music flowed through the vast corridors of the manor, mingling with the voices and laughter of the guests. Pansy never did anything halfway, and her seventeenth birthday party was no exception.
The main hall was teeming with Hogwarts students, predominantly Slytherins, although a few figures from other houses stood out, strategically placed. Groups gathered around enchanted tables laden with exquisite appetisers, while others chatted or danced in the centre of the hall beneath the enchanting glow of chandeliers and floating magical candles.
Mattheo Riddle leaned against a wall near the fireplace. His spot had been carefully chosen, allowing him to observe the entire room without drawing attention to himself. A glass of some drink—nearly forgotten in his hand—served more as a distraction than a necessity. His eyes scanned the scene with the detached air of someone watching a mediocre play, clearly indifferent to the excitement around him. He despised parties, but Pansy had been emphatic: “If you don’t show up, I’ll never invite you to anything again, and you’ll have to live with that.”
And so, here he was, enduring the loud music, empty chatter, and the unbearable feeling of being out of place.
The room buzzed with familiar faces: Blaise was chatting with Daphne near the makeshift bar, Draco was laughing at something Theodore had said in a secluded corner, and at the centre of it all, Pansy shone like a star, greeting her guests with a smile that was as rehearsed as it was charming.
Mattheo let out a deep sigh, raising the glass to his lips and sipping half-heartedly, merely to occupy himself. His thoughts drifted to the garden, which promised a quiet, solitary escape—perfect for smoking a cigarette far from the noise and frivolity of the hall.
You entered the party hesitantly, your measured steps and reserved posture betraying your unease. Your eyes scanned the room cautiously, taking in every detail before allowing yourself to fully step in. You clutched a small, delicately wrapped gift in your hands, your arms tucked close to your body as if forming a barrier against the chaos around you.
This wasn’t your kind of place—not in a bad way, just different from what you were used to. Your hair, styled in a carefully crafted half-updo, fell in soft waves over your shoulders, catching the golden light of the chandeliers and the greenish glow of the magical candles scattered around the room. Your pastel yellow dress, a nod to your Hufflepuff identity, was graceful and perfectly suited to the occasion, modest yet elegant without being over the top.
Stepping inside, you carefully shut the door behind you with a soft thud, masked by the music filling the air. You looked around attentively, moving with the grace of someone trying to avoid drawing attention. Your eyes landed on Pansy, who, upon noticing your arrival, quickly made her way over, a radiant smile lighting up her face.
“I’m so glad you came! I’ve been waiting for you,” Pansy exclaimed excitedly, and you smiled shyly, offering her the neatly wrapped gift. She took it with equal enthusiasm and, without missing a beat, guided you with a gentle touch on your arm, introducing you to her closest friends, most of whom you didn’t know—predominantly Slytherins. To anyone watching from afar, you might have seemed out of place, but you nodded politely, feeling quietly pleased to be surrounded by the friends of your close companion.
You tried to adjust to the atmosphere. The party was loud and full of people, but you knew this was exactly the kind of event Pansy loved, and it had been hard to turn down her insistence—especially on such an important occasion as her seventeenth birthday. What you hadn’t anticipated, however, was the intensity of it all: the loud laughter, the conversations about topics you barely understood or didn’t care about, and the overwhelmingly high volume of the music.
“Relax,” Pansy whispered in your ear, giving your shoulder a light squeeze as she noticed your discomfort. “You’re going to have fun, I promise.”
Her words carried a hint of something unspoken, though you didn’t catch it immediately. She continued introducing you to her friends, eventually steering you toward a more secluded corner near the fireplace, where Mattheo Riddle stood leaning against the wall, his expression bored, as though he were merely fulfilling an obligation. Holding a half-filled glass in one hand, his grey eyes scanned the room with disinterest.
“Mattheo!” Pansy’s voice interrupted his reverie, casual but still confident. “I want you to meet someone. This is my friend [Name]. [Name], this is Mattheo.”
Pansy smiled, looking far too pleased with the situation. “I’m sure you two will get along wonderfully!”
“Uh… hi,” you said softly, offering a timid smile as you tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, revealing a delicate gold moon-shaped earring that Mattheo noticed with mild indifference.
“Hi,” he replied curtly, his tone brief and aloof.
Pansy watched the exchange, clearly unimpressed by the lack of enthusiasm. “Did you know that [Name] loves taking care of magical creatures? And Mattheo, you have an impressive tolerance for people who talk too much—aren’t you two a perfect match?”
“Funny, Pansy,” Mattheo remarked, narrowing his eyes and tilting his head with a trace of amusement in his otherwise dry tone.
“Thanks, it was sincere,” Pansy quipped with a playful grin before stepping away with a conspiratorial air. “Enjoy yourselves!”
With one last smile, she left you both alone, disappearing into the crowd.
For a moment, the sound of the music and the chatter around you filled the silence as you, uneasy with the quiet, fidgeted with the star-shaped pendant on your necklace.
“So…” you began cautiously, looking at Mattheo. “Do you not like parties in general, or just the people who talk too much?”
The question caught him off guard, and he raised an eyebrow, taking a moment to think before answering. “Depends on the party. And the people.”
You let out a soft, almost inaudible laugh, but it was genuine. “I get that. This isn’t really my kind of place either.”
“Then why’d you come?” Mattheo asked, his tone casual but curious, as if waiting for your answer without much urgency.
“Pansy insisted,” you admitted with a small shrug. “And you?”
“Same.”
At that, you felt a little more at ease, tilting your head slightly towards him. “Well, at least we’ve got that in common.”
“Besides Pansy,” he added, a faint smirk tugging at his lips as he warmed to the idea that the conversation wasn’t as tedious as he’d expected.
The silence returned, but this time it felt less strained. You leaned against the wall beside him, gazing up at the ceiling, where floating candles with green flames illuminated the room alongside the warm, golden glow of the grand chandelier, while Mattheo’s eyes followed the movement of the partygoers.
Feeling slightly overwhelmed by the commotion, you noticed the atmosphere beginning to feel heavier. The grand and magical hall, while impressive, didn’t make you feel at ease. Mattheo, seemingly indifferent to the pressure of the space, appeared entirely unbothered. So, you decided to suggest something.
“How about we head out to the garden?” you asked timidly, looking up at him. “It’s… quieter, maybe?”
Mattheo, still leaning against the wall with his usual impassive expression, raised an eyebrow. “You really think the garden will be quiet, considering how many people are here?”
You smiled, slightly embarrassed. “It’s worth a try, I guess.”
With a sigh, he slipped a hand into his pocket and pushed himself off the wall, nodding. “Fine. Let’s go.”
The Parkinson mansion’s garden was undeniably stunning, but you barely noticed the perfectly trimmed hedges shaped into geometric designs or the softly glowing magical flowers. Your attention was more on the refreshing coolness of the night air and the silence—a welcome contrast to the chaos inside the hall.
The two of you walked in silence for a while. Mattheo observed you discreetly, noticing how your fingers gently brushed against the petals of the flowers along the path, as if you were connecting with their textures and details. There was no urgency in your steps, and eventually, you reached a secluded corner near an ornate fountain illuminated by floating candles casting dancing reflections on the water. He stopped by a tree, crossing his arms and tilting his head back to look at the starry sky.
“Do you always go to Pansy’s parties?” you asked, finally breaking the silence as you strolled slowly, examining the plants with more interest.
“Not a chance,” he replied with a short laugh, as if the idea were absurd. “I try to avoid them, but she’s always got these… oddly persuasive arguments.”
“Like what?” you pressed, curious.
“Like, ‘if you don’t come, I’ll tell everyone you sketch people in your notebook like a frustrated artist,’” he said, smirking slightly.
You blinked, surprised at the confession, then let out a soft laugh. “You draw?”
Mattheo shrugged, almost defensive. “Sometimes. It’s not a big deal.”
“It doesn’t sound like something to be embarrassed about,” you said simply, your tone free of judgment. Kneeling beside a bush of blueberries that seemed particularly enchanting, their tiny fruits shimmering under the magical light, you added, “Actually, it sounds pretty interesting.”
He frowned slightly, as if unsure how to respond, before muttering, “You haven’t seen it.”
“Maybe,” you replied with a small smile, still studying the delicate berries. “But it’s good to have a hobby. Everyone should have one.”
He remained quiet, thoughtful, as he watched you. There was something about you that felt disconnected from the party—yet perfectly at home here in the garden. The calmness in your movements, even when you seemed shy or slightly flustered, struck him as unusual.
“So, what’s your hobby?” he asked, breaking the silence this time.
You took a moment before answering, as if reflecting. “I suppose it’s taking care of magical creatures… They don’t need explanations. You just feel and understand them.”
He raised an eyebrow, surprised by the clarity in your answer, but didn’t comment straight away. It was rare for someone to talk about something so simple with such genuine passion.
“Fair enough,” he finally said, his voice free of sarcasm but still lacking much emotion, as though he were processing your words.
The silence returned, though it was comfortable now—almost natural. Yet, your curiosity about him grew too strong to ignore.
“Do you go to these parties often?”
“Not at all,” he replied, his tone carrying a faint hint of amusement. “Just every now and then. Pansy’s good at twisting my arm. If I don’t show up, she starts predicting my social death.”
You chuckled lightly, your gaze shifting to him rather than the garden around you. “And you always give in?”
“I’m not great at resisting emotional blackmail,” he admitted with a short, slightly insincere smile. There was a coldness in his comment, as though he didn’t place much value on his presence here. “Pansy has a way of turning invitations into ultimatums.”
The floating candles swayed gently around the fountain, their light casting dancing shadows on the stone. You took a step aside, feeling the cool night breeze against your skin. After a few moments of light-hearted conversation, you realised the dialogue had run its course.
“Maybe we should head back,” you suggested, breaking the silence. “Before Pansy comes looking for us.”
He remained silent for a moment, his gaze fixed on you. His expression still carried a hint of seriousness, but his eyes had softened somewhat.
“Maybe you’re right,” he finally said, the faintest trace of a smile on his lips. “But you decide when to go back, not me.”
You chuckled softly, shyly, as though the conversation had taken an unexpected turn, though it didn’t bother you. “Alright then. Let’s go.”
ಇ
The Slytherin common room was bathed in a cosy silence, broken only by the gentle crackle of the fire. The flames cast flickering shadows across the stone walls, creating an atmosphere that felt entirely separate from the rest of the castle. Mattheo was sprawled across one of the black leather sofas, his posture completely at ease, as though he belonged to the room itself. He twirled his wand idly between his fingers, his sharp gaze lazily drifting over the surroundings, disinterested.
The peace was interrupted by the unmistakable sound of firm, purposeful footsteps echoing off the cold floor. Mattheo didn’t look up—he didn’t need to. Pansy Parkinson always made her presence known. She strode into the room with the kind of authority that promised trouble, her eyes glinting with determination.
“Riddle,” she started, stopping in front of him with her hands firmly planted on her hips. “Saturday. Hogsmeade. You’re coming with me. Theo, Blaise, Luna, and [Name] will be there too.”
Mattheo didn’t even glance up, continuing to spin his wand between his fingers. His lips curved into a faint smirk. “No.”
“No?” Pansy echoed, raising an eyebrow, her expression morphing into one of incredulity. The set of her jaw only made her look more stubborn. “Come on, you haven’t even heard what I—”
“I’ve heard enough,” he cut her off, finally lifting his gaze to meet hers. His voice was dry, laced with boredom. “And the answer is still no. I’m not going, I don’t want to, and I’m not changing my mind.”
Pansy let out a heavy sigh, though the self-satisfied smile creeping onto her lips only deepened Mattheo’s irritation. “You say that now, but come Saturday, you’ll be there.”
Mattheo let out a short, humourless laugh. “Pansy, I’d love to see you try. I’m not Theo, who does everything you say just because he thinks you’re ‘cute.’”
“Thanks for the compliment,” Pansy shot back, her tone dripping with sarcasm as she crossed her arms. “Is this about [Name]? I saw you talking to her in the garden. You actually looked… sociable.”
“And? We exchanged a few words. That doesn’t mean anything.” His tone hardened as he narrowed his eyes, clearly irritated. Leaning back into the sofa, he added flatly, “If this is some attempt to set me up with someone, just give up now. You know I hate that.”
“Merlin, you’re dramatic,” Pansy scoffed, rolling her eyes. “No one’s setting you up. [Name] doesn’t even care if you’re there, to be honest.”
“Brilliant,” he replied, sarcasm dripping from his voice. “All the more reason for me not to go.”
Pansy let out a long-suffering sigh, though a mischievous smile tugged at her lips. “I know you, Mattheo. You say you won’t go, but come Saturday, you’ll end up tagging along with Blaise and Theo anyway. You need to connect with the world once in a while, you know.”
“I’m perfectly connected right here, thanks,” he shot back, gesturing around the room before rolling his eyes again. “I’d rather stay here than deal with people who think I owe them the courtesy of being interesting.”
Pansy tilted her head slightly, as though considering his words. “You’re so full of yourself. She’s not even thinking about you like that. And you know what? Maybe you should try acting normal around people who don’t fear you because of your surname.”
Mattheo huffed, but before he could muster a retort, Pansy was already making her way up the stairs to the girls’ dormitory. She threw a parting remark over her shoulder, her voice bright with smug amusement. “Saturday, Mattheo. Be there, or I’ll add this to my list of lifelong grudges!”
He stayed where he was, his gaze falling back to the wand in his fingers. It spun faster now, less smoothly than before. Pansy was wrong. He wasn’t going. And if [Name] didn’t care whether he came or not, that was fine by him. A relief, really. A big relief.
ಇ
The streets of Hogsmeade buzzed with chatter and laughter, the crunch of footsteps in the snow, and the sweet smell of warm drinks wafting out of nearby shops. Despite the lively atmosphere, Mattheo would still take this over the castle any day—at least here he wasn’t constantly followed by stares and whispers. He walked with his hands stuffed deep into the pockets of his black overcoat, his expression bored, though his sharp eyes missed nothing.
“So,” Blaise started, nudging Theo with his elbow. “Whose brilliant idea was it to drag him out here? Thought Mattheo was allergic to socialising.”
“Don’t start,” Mattheo muttered without even glancing at them. “I’m only here because someone wouldn’t shut up about how this was going to be ‘fun.’”
Theo laughed, unbothered. “It is fun. You should be thanking me.”
Mattheo opened his mouth to fire back but was cut off as the three of them rounded a corner and found themselves face-to-face with Pansy, Luna, and [Name] standing outside the Three Broomsticks.
“Oh, what are you lot doing here?” Pansy exclaimed, her voice dripping with faux surprise. Only Mattheo caught the teasing glint in her eye.
“Pansy,” he began, narrowing his eyes. “Don’t even try it.”
“Try what?” She blinked at him innocently. “This is pure coincidence.”
Mattheo was about to argue when his attention was pulled to Blaise and Luna. The moment they spotted each other, Luna lit up with a bright smile, and Blaise… Well, he looked like someone had hit him with a softening charm. It was rare to see him like that—genuinely smitten.
Luna stepped closer immediately, lightly tugging Blaise by the arm as she spoke. Whatever she said made him laugh, low and almost shy, a side of him Mattheo hardly ever saw. Blaise was usually so composed, but with Luna, he seemed… different.
That’s when it hit Mattheo. This wasn’t some trap for him. It was for them.
He glanced at Theo, who was watching the scene with a smug smile. Theo shrugged in response, as if to say, Don’t look at me, this wasn’t my idea.
Pansy, however, wasn’t even trying to hide her satisfaction, though she kept her focus firmly on Luna and Blaise.
Mattheo sighed quietly. Right. Maybe he’d been wrong. Maybe this whole outing really was just about those two.
But then his eyes landed on you. You stood a little behind Pansy, a small, almost shy smile playing on your lips as you watched Blaise and Luna. You didn’t seem out of place, exactly—just quiet, like someone unsure where they fit into the group dynamic.
He looked away before you noticed, but Pansy, ever observant, caught the movement.
“Well,” she said, a sly smile tugging at her lips. “Since we’re all here, why don’t we do something together?”
Mattheo was already preparing to decline, but something stopped him. Maybe it was the way you, distracted, reached out to catch the falling snowflakes in your hand, that soft, almost enchanted smile still on your face.
He frowned. What was so special about snow, anyway?
“Relax, Riddle,” Pansy said, pulling him back to reality. “I didn’t plan this.”
“You planned this,” he replied flatly.
“And if I did?” She held her hands up, her smile infuriatingly casual. “It’s not the end of the world. Try being social for once.”
Before he could respond, Theo slung an arm casually around his shoulders, as if to stop him from bolting. “Not every day we hang out with such a… diverse group.”
Mattheo rolled his eyes but didn’t bother arguing. Judging by how glued Blaise and Luna were to each other, it was pointless. Still, the way Pansy kept glancing at you before whispering something to Theo made him suspicious.
You, meanwhile, seemed completely oblivious to it all. You adjusted your scarf, your attention caught by a nearby shop window where tiny enchanted ice figurines were dancing.
“Alright,” Theo said, breaking the moment of silence. “So, what’s first on the agenda?”
Mattheo let out a heavy sigh and glanced over at you. You were standing a bit apart from the group, but somehow, your eyes met his. A small, tentative smile crossed your face, the kind that seemed unsure of its place, before you quickly looked away.
He considered walking away, but something made him stay. Maybe it was the sense that Pansy would never let him hear the end of it if he left.
“The Three Broomsticks?” he suggested, his voice laced with reluctance. “If we’re doing this, might as well get it over with.”
Pansy’s smile widened, like she knew exactly what he was thinking, but to his annoyance, she said nothing.
ಇ
The Three Broomsticks was as crowded as Mattheo had expected. The buzz of conversations and laughter mingled with the clatter of mugs and the sweet smell of butterbeer, creating a lively, almost chaotic atmosphere. For most, it was a place to forget about the pressures of school, but for Mattheo, it felt suffocating. He stood near the entrance, hands shoved deep into the pockets of his coat, ready to leave at any moment.
“See? Told you this would be fun,” Theo said, flashing a carefree grin as he dropped into a chair beside Pansy.
“If this is your idea of fun, I’d rather be back at the castle,” Mattheo replied flatly, choosing the chair furthest from the table.
Pansy, ever the orchestrator, settled in beside Theo and shot a smug look at Mattheo. “Oh, stop being dramatic. You’ll survive.”
Luna and Blaise took their seats next, the pair seemingly lost in their own little world. Blaise leaned in to whisper something, and Luna let out a soft, musical laugh. Mattheo rolled his eyes.
“They’ve already forgotten we’re here,” he muttered, tapping a keyring against the table in an almost absentminded rhythm.
Pansy smirked. “Leave them be. They’re cute.”
Mattheo huffed but didn’t bother replying. His eyes drifted across the room, eventually landing on you. You had chosen a seat near the window, detached from the group’s chatter. The soft glow of candlelight reflected in the glass as you gazed out at the falling snow, your expression calm and contemplative, as though soaking in every detail of the world outside.
For a moment, Mattheo found himself wondering what was so fascinating about the snow. It was just snow—falling endlessly, especially this time of year. But to you, it seemed to hold some deeper meaning, something he couldn’t quite grasp. You watched the flurries with a quiet intensity he found… puzzling.
“Paying attention, or has the snow got you too?” Theo teased, nudging Mattheo as he caught him staring.
Mattheo shot him a sharp look. “Shut up.”
Glancing at you again, he lowered his voice. “Why’s she so quiet?”
Pansy, ever observant, turned her gaze from you to the two whispering boys. “Because that’s how she is. Maybe you should try it sometime.”
“Very funny,” Mattheo shot back, narrowing his eyes at her.
Theo chuckled. “She just doesn’t like all the noise. Makes me wonder, though… why’s she here with us?”
“Because you invited her,” Mattheo said dryly, his tone clipped. Theo shrugged, unbothered.
“She’s here for Pansy. And maybe because sometimes people like to shake things up a bit,” Theo replied, as if it were obvious.
Mattheo didn’t respond, his attention drawn back to you. You were still lost in the view outside, but you must have felt the weight of their stares because, after a moment, you turned to face the group. Your smile was small and uncertain, a touch of embarrassment in your eyes. “What?” you asked quietly, your voice soft and cautious.
“Mattheo thinks you’re mysterious,” Theo said boldly, grinning as he leaned back lazily in his chair.
You frowned, your gaze shifting to Mattheo, who let out an irritated scoff. “That’s not what I said.”
“No need to explain yourself, Riddle,” Pansy chimed in with a sly grin, hiding behind the menu.
You gave a shy smile, clearly flustered, and buried yourself in the menu as if it were a shield. Mattheo caught the faint blush creeping across your cheeks, and for some inexplicable reason, it made him glance away, feeling oddly unsettled.
“What’re we ordering?” Blaise asked suddenly, breaking the tension and redirecting the group’s focus.
While the others debated their orders, Mattheo remained silent, his fingers tapping against the table. He didn’t want to admit it, but there was something about you that left him uneasy—not in a bad way, but in a way that made him feel restless, like he couldn’t quite figure out what to do with himself.
The waiter arrived, looking a little tired but polite, his quill poised to take orders. Theo and Blaise rattled off their choices with ease, but when it was your turn, you hesitated, your voice so soft that the waiter leaned in.
“Sorry, could you repeat that?” the waiter asked, his tone patient.
Mattheo noticed the discomfort on your face as you tried again, your cheeks flushing with self-consciousness. It was such a simple moment, but something about it made Mattheo feel compelled to step in.
“She’ll have a butterbeer,” he said abruptly, leaning back in his chair as if it were no big deal. “And I’ll have the same.”
The waiter blinked, then nodded. “Right, and the rest of you?”
You glanced at Mattheo, your surprise evident. For a moment, he wondered if he’d made things worse. But then you murmured, “Thanks,” so quietly it was almost inaudible. Your smile was small and a little shy, but there was something about it—something genuine—that made Mattheo’s chest tighten unexpectedly.
Their eyes met for a brief moment, and while it wasn’t much, it was enough to make Mattheo look away, feeling a strange heat rising in his neck. What the hell was that?
He focused on the table instead, letting his gaze fall on Pansy. She was watching him with her usual smirk, the kind that screamed, I know something you don’t. That look alone was enough to irritate him further.
He clenched his jaw, determined to brush it off. Whatever Pansy thought she saw, it didn’t matter. It wasn’t like him to get caught up in whatever game she might be playing. And yet, he couldn’t shake the thought of that small, genuine smile you’d given him—or the way it had made him feel completely out of his depth.
Later, the group had finished their meal and was now strolling leisurely through the softly lit streets of Hogsmeade. Snow fell in delicate flakes, blanketing the rooftops with a fine layer, creating a scene that was ordinary but, in your eyes, uniquely enchanting.
Mattheo walked in silence, his hands casually shoved into his pockets, while you stayed a little ahead with Luna, Blaise, and Pansy. The latter seemed particularly alert, as if she were plotting something in her mind.
“Let’s stop by Honeydukes,” Pansy announced suddenly, pausing beside Blaise and Luna. “I’m absolutely craving those ginger caramels.”
“Now? is probably a nightmare,” Theo grumbled, though his protest was pointless as Pansy was already dragging him firmly towards the shop’s entrance.
Before you could say a word, she turned to you and Mattheo with a sly, self-assured grin.
“How about you two check out the bookshop? We’ll catch up in a bit!”
You hesitated for a moment, glancing uncertainly in the direction of the bookshop and then back at Pansy. But she didn’t wait for a reply. Without giving you a chance to argue, she disappeared into Honeydukes with Theo in tow.
Mattheo let out a quiet sigh, his expression laced with a knowing irritation at Pansy’s obvious intentions. But he didn’t comment. Instead, he gave a small nod towards the bookshop.
“Fancy it?” he asked, his tone straightforward.
You nodded slightly, not trusting your voice to come out steady, and followed him towards the shop.
The interior of the bookshop was warm and serene. Tall shelves were crammed with books, from old, worn-out tomes to pristine, freshly bound editions. The air was filled with the unmistakable scent of aged paper, and the soft glow of strategically placed lamps added to the cosy atmosphere.
Walking slowly down the aisles, you trailed your fingers over the spines of books, savouring the texture of each one. Mattheo had wandered to a quieter section, where he pulled an old, dark-covered book from the shelf and examined it with mild curiosity.
“I’ve read that one,” you remarked casually, stepping closer.
Mattheo looked up at you, his expression faintly surprised. “Have you?”
You nodded, your eyes lighting up shyly but genuinely. “It’s really good, though a bit sad.”
He shrugged, placing the book back and reaching for another.
“That one too,” you said, glancing at the new book in his hand.
He raised an eyebrow, holding the book for a moment before putting it back and selecting yet another.
“Oh, that one’s brilliant!” you exclaimed, a spark of enthusiasm slipping through. “A bit heavy in parts, but it’s one of my favourites.”
Mattheo paused, studying the book in his hand before looking back at you.
“Have you read all of these?” he asked, disbelief evident in his tone.
You hesitated, your gaze flickering away briefly before meeting his again, your cheeks warming under his scrutiny.
“Almost all of them,” you admitted softly. “I just… really like reading.”
A faint, genuine smile tugged at Mattheo’s lips as he shook his head slightly.
“All right,” he said, holding up another book. “How about this one? Have you read it?” He revealed the title: The Great Gatsby.
Your eyes lit up instantly as you nodded. “Yes. It’s a classic. Sad, but so good.”
Mattheo let out a short sigh, glancing at the book with more interest. “Do you cry at all of them, or just the ones I pick because I like the cover?”
Your timid but sincere smile answered before your words. “Only the good ones.”
For a moment, he just watched you, his eyes lingering as you studied the shelves around you with quiet fascination.
“So,” he said, breaking the silence. “Think I’ll like this one?”
You tilted your head thoughtfully. “Depends. Do you like happy endings?”
Mattheo chuckled lowly, a hint of dry humour in his voice. “Wouldn’t know what that’s like.”
Your expression softened at his response, but you didn’t say anything right away. Instead, you looked up at him, as though trying to understand him better. He shifted uncomfortably under your gaze and glanced away.
“I’ll take it,” he muttered, holding the book firmly. “If it makes me cry, it’s your fault.”
You laughed quietly, the sound lighter this time, as he tucked the book under his arm.
“Do you read much?” you asked, your voice still a little shy as your eyes lifted to meet his.
“Not really.”
The moment was abruptly interrupted by Pansy’s familiar voice cutting through the quiet. She appeared suddenly beside Mattheo, a smug smile on her face.
“You two are taking ages,” she teased, throwing a loaded glance between the two of you. “Buying a book or writing one?”
Mattheo rolled his eyes, refusing to dignify her with an answer, while you glanced away, feeling slightly flustered. Pansy’s satisfied grin made it clear she’d gotten exactly what she wanted. Without ceremony, she tugged Mattheo towards the counter to pay for his book. You followed quietly as they left the shop, snow beginning to fall again outside.
ಇ
Once again, the group had gathered, this time in a more comfortable setting, as if they had already gotten used to the rhythm of their regular outings. The Slytherin common room felt cosy and calm, bathed in the soft light of the fire crackling in the hearth, casting a warm, golden glow across the space. Theo and Pansy were chatting animatedly about something trivial, while Blaise and Luna stayed, as usual, wrapped up in their own bubble, oblivious to the world around them.
You and Mattheo, however, were more on the edge of the group, tucked away in a quiet corner where silence hung comfortably in the air. He was staring into the flames, his mind distant, while you flicked through a book, your eyes quickly scanning the shelves of volumes in the common room.
It was you who broke the silence, your voice soft, laced with your usual curiosity.
“Have you finished that book, Mattheo?”
He gave you a look after a brief pause, responding casually.
“Yeah, it was quick to read, just like Cat’s Cradle.”
“You’ve read Cat’s Cradle?” you asked, surprised, your eyes lighting up instantly at the thought that he might be interested in such a quirky book.
Mattheo nodded with a relaxed gesture.
“Mm-hm.”
“I love that book,” you said enthusiastically. “I thought you said you didn’t read much.”
He laughed and shrugged, not giving it much thought.
“Well, what’s ‘much’?”
You laughed, satisfied with the answer, before diving back into your love for the book.
“Cat’s Cradle is just so chaotic, so human, you know? Like a distorted mirror of ourselves.”
Mattheo furrowed his brow, now visibly more interested.
“Human?”
“Yeah,” you continued, gesturing lightly. “The way Vonnegut portrays people, with all their confusing flaws—it’s so real. It’s a bit uncomfortable, but still, it’s genius.”
Mattheo watched you for a moment, trying to understand your perspective before replying in a teasing tone.
“I’m not sure ‘genius’ is the right word.”
You let out a soft laugh, not offended.
“No? And how would you describe it?”
He shrugged, his eyes drifting to the window beside him, watching the snow fall gently outside.
“It’s more like… a bunch of people getting into trouble because they’re too thick to see what’s right in front of them.”
You tilted your head slightly, amused by the simplicity of his argument.
“Exactly. That’s what makes it genius.”
Mattheo blinked, clearly impressed by your response. He wasn’t sure if you were joking or if you really believed it.
“You think stupidity is genius?”
“Nooo,” you said with a sideways smile. “But it makes us reflect on that human stupidity, like a portrait of our own contradictions, in a raw way. It’s uncomfortable, but in a weird way, it’s beautiful.”
Mattheo fell silent for a moment, processing your words.
“Beautiful?” He raised an eyebrow, as if trying to decide whether the comment was fascinating or just plain weird.
“Yes, beautiful,” you insisted, your tone calm but firm. “I think there’s beauty in accepting that we’re flawed, that we’re always trying, even when we know we might fail.”
He let out a low, almost incredulous laugh.
“You’ve got a peculiar way of looking at things.”
“Peculiar?” You laughed back, not losing the lightness of the moment. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”
Before he could respond, you leaned forward slightly, without thinking too much, and with a gentle gesture, you brushed a stray curl of hair from his face. Your touch was so natural that he barely had time to process it. Your fingers slid smoothly through his dark hair, pushing the curl away, and you did it with such ease that it felt completely normal to you. But for Mattheo, the action was enough to freeze him for a moment.
Mattheo froze. His mind instantly went on alert. The touch, though brief, had triggered a cascade of disconnected thoughts that he had no idea how to sort or deal with at that moment.
You, completely unaware of the inner battle Mattheo was facing, turned your attention back to the book you were skimming through, still intrigued by the shelves in the Slytherin common room. They were filled with delicate details, snakes and symbols, which gave the place a peculiar touch.
Mattheo, on the other hand, remained silent, lost in his own thoughts. He tried to push the moment’s impact aside, but it seemed impossible. The touch was still fresh on his skin, and the echo of your words about the book lingered in his mind.
ಇ
The night was quiet and peaceful at Hogwarts Castle. Mattheo lay in his dormitory, the soft light of the moon streaming through the window, casting a subtle glow over the room. His mind, however, was restless, filled with thoughts that were hard to sort. Almost mechanically, he reached for his wand, and with a subtle motion, began to move it, calling the music.
The first notes of “Crash Into Me” began to fill the room, softly, as Dave Matthews’ voice echoed through the space, enveloping him in a familiar melody. The song seeped into him like a comforting whisper, and something in it gripped him almost viscerally. He closed his eyes, allowing himself to be consumed by the music, and, without knowing why, raised his wand again to put the track on repeat.
The words of the song began to take on more meaning, subtly echoing within him, much like the thoughts swirling in his mind that he couldn’t quite organise. It was as if the song spoke directly to him, not in a clear and direct way, but through its rhymes and melody, something in between the lines made him think of you. Your calm presence, yet shrouded in mystery, took shape in his mind.
He turned over in bed, still immersed in confusing thoughts, trying to understand the nameless feeling that overtook him. What was this unease? The music seemed to break something inside him, as if it were unveiling parts of himself he didn’t know existed.
As the chords of the song filled the space around him, a quiet exhaustion began to settle in. He surrendered to the melody, letting himself drift, without haste or resistance. The last thing he thought of before falling asleep was your face.
In his dream, you were beneath the Astronomy Tower. The stars watched silently as you leaned against the balustrade, your hair softly shimmering, floating with the night’s breeze. They saw when you approached him, and the world around seemed to shrink, as if everything became insignificant. You kissed him, a simple, gentle kiss, incredibly soft, full of sincerity. When you pulled away, his eyes opened.
The song “Crash Into Me” still played in his ears, but the sensation of the kiss, the soft touch of your lips, lingered with him, even though the dream dissipated as quickly as it had come. He lay there, motionless, not knowing exactly when he had been struck. The confusion that had once dominated his thoughts now seemed entwined with that fleeting memory, and he allowed himself to feel.
ಇ
Theo’s dormitory was as cosy as ever, lit only by the bedside lamp, casting a soft yellow glow that created an intimate atmosphere. The lazy tendrils of cigarette smoke drifted in the air, mixing with the low hum of music playing from a small gramophone in the corner. Lorenzo was slouched on the sofa, his feet carelessly propped up on the coffee table, while Theo, seated on the floor with his back against the bed, took long drags from his cigarette, releasing the smoke in the air as if following a ritual.
Pansy, meanwhile, leaned against an armchair, distractedly fiddling with her wand. Mattheo remained on the outskirts, leaning against the wall, arms crossed, and visibly more distant than usual.
“So,” Pansy began, breaking the silence with a mischievous smile playing on her lips, though her tone remained casual, “I’m thinking of organising another group trip to Hogsmeade next Saturday. You coming?”
Mattheo raised an eyebrow, sceptical. “Who’s going?”
Pansy shrugged nonchalantly. “Me, obviously, Theo, Blaise, Lorenzo, Daphne… if she’s not busy.”
He gave a small nod, considering the idea. Maybe getting out a bit wouldn’t be so bad, even if he wasn’t exactly in the mood.
“And [Name],” Pansy added casually, throwing him a sly sidelong glance.
The effect was immediate. Mattheo froze, quickly averting his gaze. “Ah… no, I don’t think I’ll be going, then.”
Pansy stared at him, taken aback. “You’re not?”
“I’m just not in the mood,” he replied flatly, still avoiding her gaze.
“Not in the mood or running from her?” Pansy pressed, her tone sharp. She uncrossed her arms and stepped away from the armchair, facing him head-on.
He let out a humourless laugh, pushing away from the wall. “Oh, spare me, Pansy. This is just one of your dumb ideas to try and push me onto one of your friends. I’ve told you, it’s not going to work.”
“Push you onto my friends?” she repeated, incredulous, the disbelief clear in her voice. “Merlin’s beard, do you even hear what you’re saying? I’m just organising a trip, it’s not your bloody wedding!”
“Oh, right,” he shot back, his voice rising slightly. “You think I don’t notice? You’re always trying to set people up, like it’s some kind of game. But this isn’t some stupid romance novel. And honestly? She’s none of that, not worth the hassle.”
The silence that followed was thick, almost tangible. Even Lorenzo, who had seemed absorbed in his own thoughts, lifted his gaze, surprised by the bitterness in Mattheo’s voice. Pansy stood still for a moment before letting out a bitter laugh.
“Not worth the hassle?” she repeated, each word laced with icy venom, as she stepped right up to him. “Do you have any idea what utter rubbish you’ve just said?”
Mattheo tried to hold her stare, but there was something in her stance that unsettled him.
“You don’t even believe that,” she continued, her voice firm now. “You’re so terrified of the idea of liking her that you’d rather say something vile like that than admit it to yourself. But guess what, Mattheo? It doesn’t change a thing.”
He crossed his arms, frustration clearly etched on his face. “I’m not scared of anything. You’re the one harassing me with this ridiculous conversation.”
“Ridiculous?” Pansy raised her voice, frustration seeping through every word. “You’re the one acting ridiculous! As if liking someone is some kind of weakness. It’s pathetic, actually—it’s so sad, it’s almost funny.”
“Oh, fuck off, Pansy,” he snapped, his anger boiling over.
She laughed, a sarcastic chuckle escaping her. “I’m just trying to stop you from being an idiot. But, then again, maybe you don’t deserve someone like her. Maybe she’s too good for you, yeah?”
Mattheo clenched his jaw, irritation flashing across his face before he stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him.
In the stillness of his own dormitory, he threw himself onto the bed, his chest still heaving from the argument. He ran a hand through his hair, trying to organise his thoughts, but Pansy’s words continued to echo in his mind like an unshakable spell.
“Maybe she’s too good for you.”
He knew he shouldn’t have said that. It wasn’t true, and he knew it. She was worth the effort, without a doubt. He remembered the way she spoke about books, how her eyes lit up with passion for things he didn’t even bother to notice. She was kind, funny, incredibly genuine, and, above all, special.
With a heavy sigh, he closed his eyes and stared at the ceiling. Pansy was right. He was an idiot. And, worse yet, an idiot in love.
ಇ
The pub in Hogsmeade was packed, but the noise around Jasmine felt distant as she watched the group of friends play pool with curiosity. The soft lighting gave the place a warm, inviting atmosphere, while the low music in the background punctuated the occasional laughter of Theo and Lorenzo, who were arguing about who the better player was.
Mattheo kept his gaze fixed on you, knowing there was no escaping this. He was already falling, and he knew it. Rather than resist, he decided to enjoy the moment. There was something about your cautious yet charming manner that stirred him in a way he couldn’t quite understand. But soon he realised there was no need to comprehend it. It was as if the fall was inevitable, and somehow, the view would be worth it. All that was left for him to do was relax and let it happen. Maybe it was time to be bolder. Let the fall happen. He was ready for whatever came next and wanted to see how far it could go.
“Go on, who’s next?” Theo asked, twirling the cue stick with a teasing smile, aiming it at you.
“Definitely not me,” you muttered instantly, shrugging behind your butterbeer.
“Oh, come on,” Pansy teased, smiling. “You’ve never played?”
You shook your head, feeling a little out of place. “No idea how to play.”
Before Pansy could insist, Mattheo pushed off from the wall where he had been leaning, arms casually crossed, and approached. “I’ll teach you.”
You looked up at him, surprised. “You don’t have to, I—”
“Come here,” he interrupted, leaving no room for protest. He reached out and, before you could object, gently took hold of your wrist, guiding you to the right spot at the table.
Frozen, you watched him as if he’d just cast a spell. There was something so natural about the gesture – as though you’d shared this kind of proximity for years – that it left you speechless.
“Grab the cue,” he instructed, his voice low and slightly husky. You obeyed, holding the cue with clear hesitation.
Mattheo took a step back, so close that you could feel the warmth radiating from his body. “Like this,” he said, adjusting his hands over yours. His fingers were firm but didn’t squeeze; the touch felt casual, yet it carried an intimacy that made you blush instantly.
He tilted his head, his voice close to your ear. “You need to align with the ball.”
His breath seemed to brush against your skin, and your heart raced. “Right… okay.”
He chuckled softly. “Relax, you’re all tense.”
“I’m not tense!” you protested, though the nervousness in your voice gave you away.
“Of course not,” he teased, shifting his hands slightly to adjust the position. “Now aim here.”
Biting your lip, you tried to focus, even though the closeness made it nearly impossible. The sound of his voice, the way he leaned in, his firm yet careful touch – it was all making your mind spin.
“Ready?” he asked, and you nodded, feeling your face heat up.
With his help, you moved the cue forward, striking the ball harder than you expected. It rolled across the table, hitting a few others before dropping into one of the pockets.
“See?” he said, stepping back slightly but keeping his hand near yours. “That wasn’t so hard.”
You laughed nervously, too shy to meet his eyes. “I think it was more you than me.”
“Maybe,” he replied casually, but his gaze was now locked on yours.
You noticed he was still holding your hand, even though it wasn’t necessary anymore, and for a moment, you were completely speechless. When he finally let go, the touch seemed to linger.
“Next,” he said, handing the cue to Theo, who was already laughing.
You stepped away from the table, trying to regain your composure, but your heart was still racing. Pansy watched you with a mischievous smile, but said nothing – which, in some way, was even more embarrassing.
Mattheo, now leaning back against the wall again, looked relaxed, though a subtle smile played on his lips. He knew exactly what he’d done – and he seemed to be enjoying it.
The night was light, filled with laughter and pool shots. You still felt a bit embarrassed about the last shot, about Mattheo’s unexpected touch, and the way he seemed so at ease. The way he approached so naturally, as if there was an intimacy between you two that you didn’t know how to handle, made you nervous, but also… curious.
At one point, you stepped away to grab the drink you’d left on the table, and Mattheo was right behind you, not wasting a second before taking the empty glass from your hand.
“I’ll get you another,” he said, flashing a casual smile.
You raised an eyebrow, glancing at him and then at the empty glass he’d taken from your hand. “Hey, I can do it myself.”
He shrugged as he walked away. “So what? Let me do it for you.”
You stared at him as he made his way to the bar, wanting to protest, but knowing he probably wouldn’t care. He was back quickly, drink in hand, placing it gently in front of you.
“Here,” he said, smiling tranquilly.
Still unsure how to react, you responded, “You really don’t listen, do you?”
He laughed easily and sat beside you. “I listen, I just don’t care. And let’s be honest,” he chuckled softly, “you’re not exactly good at hiding that you like it when I do things for you.”
Your face flushed, but you weren’t sure whether you were more surprised by the comment or by how comfortable he seemed with the situation. You tried to change the subject, though your voice still sounded hesitant. “I really could’ve filled my own glass.”
“Sure,” he interrupted with a sly grin, “but I wanted to do it.”
Not knowing how to respond, you looked down, crossing your legs and resting the drink on your thigh, unsure of how to act when Mattheo was messing with your composure. But secretly, you were enjoying this new side of him – unsure of how to react, but liking it all the same.
“I know what I’m doing,” you whispered, more to yourself.
“I know, princess,” he replied with an easy grin, “but I like doing it.”
ಇ
As time passed, your meetings became more frequent. The group hangouts gradually gave way to moments alone, and the relationship between you two became more comfortable and intimate. Being in each other’s company felt natural, easy, almost like an extension of everyday life. Mattheo’s behaviour grew more spontaneous, with fewer of the usual walls he built up when you were around. And it wasn’t just you who noticed; the entire group of friends could see it too.
One night, you were in Mattheo’s dorm. The atmosphere was calm and welcoming, with the scent of scented candles he’d started using now permanently filling the room. They were burning all around, three on the dresser and others on the bedside table. Meanwhile, Mattheo was rummaging through the wardrobe shelves and found a few hidden bottles. It was cheap wine that Theo had bought to settle a silly bet, but had forgotten there. Mattheo remembered it like it had happened yesterday. He looked at the bottle with a smile, laughing to himself. You raised an eyebrow, suspicious.
“I can’t believe you’re going to drink that,” you said, laughing lightly while lying on the black carpet in the middle of the room, fiddling with the radio.
Mattheo shrugged, flashing a carefree smile. “Of course I am, it’s here, right?”
You gave him a sceptical look, but couldn’t help but laugh at his audacity. “That’s a bit weird.”
“It’s nothing,” he replied, walking over and sitting beside you, holding the bottle out. “Try it, go on.”
Hesitant, but tempted, you sat next to him, smiling nervously. You took the bottle from his hand, laughing before bringing it to your lips, keeping your eyes fixed on his.
After a bottle and a half shared between you, the effects of the wine were already clear. The conversation flowed easily, words coming out freely, and you both laughed at anything, letting yourselves enjoy the sense of freedom the moment brought.
Then Mattheo stood up, walked over to the radio, and adjusted the music. Fleetwood Mac, one of his favourite bands, and he knew it well. The soft notes filled the room, creating a relaxing and warm atmosphere. He smiled at you, stood up from the carpet, and waited for you to follow. “Don’t you want to dance?”
You looked at him hesitantly, but he was watching you as if daring you. It didn’t take long before you got up, still a bit loose from the alcohol, and started dancing awkwardly, singing along with Stevie Nicks, a silly grin on your face. Mattheo held your hands and settled on the bed, watching your dance. There was no pretension; it was a spontaneous dance, a bit off-beat, but genuine.
Mattheo watched you with a satisfied smile, but his gaze revealed something more. He saw you differently. You moved with clumsy grace, not caring about the rhythm, and he was completely captivated by the way you threw yourself into the moment, without a hint of self-consciousness. Your movements, though not sensual, were, in that instant, the most captivating thing he’d ever seen. You were so at ease, as if you were dancing just for him. And, in a way, you were.
You laughed, unaware of the effect you had, how your hair shone and moved perfectly with the rhythm of your motions. That sight, so natural, only drew him in more. When the music finally ended, you stopped, out of breath, and looked at him with a mischievous grin, holding onto his shoulders while he watched you from below, his expression one of admiration.
“See? Was this what you wanted?” you asked, regaining your composure, but with a faint blush on your cheeks.
“More than I expected.”
The music still filled the room, but slowly, it became a distant echo, overshadowed by the tension that now dominated the space. The air felt heavier, each heartbeat ringing in your ears as you locked eyes with him. Your hands still rested on his shoulders, and despite the relaxed smile that appeared on his face, there was something in Mattheo’s gaze that made the lightness of the moment take on a new weight.
His eyes were fixed on yours, serious, intense, filled with an emotion you couldn’t quite decipher. Something in that look seemed ready to spill over, and before you could even question it, the space between you two was vanishing. Mattheo moved, his strong hands reaching up to cradle your face, holding it with a gentleness that contrasted with the fervour in his expression. The world around you faded in the blink of an eye. No more cheap wine, no more candles, no more Stevie Nicks in the background. It was just the two of you.
“I’ve been wanting to do this for a while,” he murmured, his voice low and rough, filling the silence between you. His gaze didn’t waver, and the proximity made each word feel even more intimate, almost like a confession. A shiver ran down your spine, but you didn’t respond. There were no words that could capture what was going through your mind.
When he finally closed the remaining space between you, his lips found yours, and everything seemed to fall into place. The kiss began firm but soon softened, as if he was exploring each detail, testing, savouring the moment with an almost palpable intensity.
His hands didn’t stay still. One slid to your waist, fingers slipping beneath your shirt, touching your warm skin with a mixture of firmness and care. The other moved up to your neck, fingers light as a caress, but determined, keeping you close, as if he wanted to make sure you wouldn’t slip away.
When his lips left yours, it was only to trace a deliberate path along your jawline, down to the delicate spot on your neck, where he could feel your pulse quicken. Each kiss was meticulous, almost reverent, as you closed your eyes, surrendering to the sensation. The softness of his touch seemed to contradict the intensity he maintained with every movement, and it made the moment all the more overwhelming.
Then, unexpectedly, Mattheo made a quick movement, pulling you onto the bed.
He was firm, but careful, lying you down with precision and security, as if guiding you through a dance he had already mentally rehearsed. Your bodies moulded into the surroundings, as if the moment had been waiting for you both.
Mattheo pulled back slightly, his hands slowly lifting your shirt, with a near ceremonial slowness. There was no rush, just a clear intention in every gesture, as though he was absorbing the significance of what was happening. His eyes scanned your body, but not with haste or crude desire. There was something almost devotional in that gaze, something that made your breath quicken and slow at the same time.
His lips descended to your stomach, touching it with the lightness of a promise. Each kiss seemed to hold something unspoken, something long-kept. Mattheo's fingers traced slow paths along your skin, as though he wanted to memorise every detail, while you let out a sigh that seemed to echo in the intimacy of the room.
For a brief moment, he lifted his head, meeting your gaze. His eyes sparkled with a mix of desire and playfulness, and a light smile curved his lips before he leaned in again, the kisses resuming their course, now with even more care, as if each touch was a silent vow of adoration.
𐙚 ˙ ⋆.˚ BOYS OF TOMMEN MASTERLIST
➳ navigation. main masterlist.
➳ GERARD GIBSON;
[…]
➳ PATRICK FEELY;
[…]
➳ JOHNNY KAVANAGH;
[…]
➳ JOEY LYNCH;
[…]
➳ AOIFE MOLLOY;
[…]
➳ HUGHIE BIGGS;
[…]
© gibsluv 𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝚍𝚘 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚛𝚎𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚝, 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚐𝚒𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚣𝚎, 𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚊𝚕, 𝚘𝚛 𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚜𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝚖𝚢
OMG I LOVE THIS SO MUCH ?!?! BYE THE CONCEPT IS ADORABLE 😡😡😡 i’m so ready for this gtfo
⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ lady!reader (regency au)
Dearest gentle reader, this author is more than delighted to introduce you to Lady Y/N. A lady that was born into London’s high society as the oldest child of a Duke and Duchess. The world of London‘s high society is filled with romance, friendship, scandals, rumours and secrets that want to remain hidden. But be forewarned, dear reader, this author has her eyes everywhere and nothing shall go unnoticed. As we embark into a new social season, I find myself pondering some most intriguing questions: Will Lady Y/N succeed in securing a match in this season? And will her reputation remain unsullied or will she find herself embroiled in scandal? I shall assure you, if any noteworthy event comes into my notice, I shall be the first to bring it to your attention. May this season promise us to be a truly unforgettable experience. Yours truly, Lady Whistledown.
lady!reader is witty, sarcastic, confident and may appear innocent but she might surprise you. she doesn’t let others treat her with disrespect and holds them accountable when necessary. she isn‘t as innocent as some might think.
lady!reader who seems like an open book but has sides to her that only her closest people know about. some are just reserved for a possible partner — sides only they can unveil.
lady!reader is someone who loves to read with her friends, take walks or spend time in nature. she loves to have fun and doesn’t care what other’s truly think about her, even if it‘s not appreciated by society to behave such ways. but be aware, there is so much more ready to be revealed.
lady!reader who has caught the attention of many people — possible partners are among them. the gender doesn’t truly matter to her. she is aware of the risks that come with her interests but she doesn’t care.
lady!reader who wants to fall in love with someone who truly wants and loves her regardless of her status. she wants something real and wouldn’t mind not to marry at all if she won‘t find what she wants.
navigation. | harry potter masterlist. | lady!reader
© eternalbuckley 2025. // I do not give you permission to modify, copy, translate or repost any of my works and creations on other platforms. I do not give you the permission to claim them as your own. I do not give you permission to use anything of my work and creations for any ai related things. I only post my works on tumblr, if you find my work anywhere else please let me know!
a/n: this au is completely inspired by bridgerton, especially lady whistledown — i'm using her solely for the purpose of the gossip society papers (like it's in the show and books). that's it!
i love how you casually drop masterpieces on us and then act like it never happened “here y’all, i am thinking about an amazing au with a fantastic plot.” and then you just disappear like it’s no big deal, like it’s routine or something. and i love you for it!!! 🙂↕️🙂↕️
i swear i will eat this up and then cry at night 🙇🏻♀️🙇🏻♀️
— sinners never pray ; a band au
some say love is not for sinners…
sinners never pray – a band that thrives on shock value, some roughness around the edges and a bit of craziness; some say it’s a lot, but what do they know? no boundaries limit the band’s progress, both in their art and more… personal relationships. how you ended up in the middle of such a peculiar circle of individuals who never seem to get off their high, always get themselves into some kind of controversy and live vicariously through their songs, you could never tell. but it only means one thing – you’re at least just as crazy as them, and for that, they endlessly adore you.
…i believe that isn’t true
⟡ drummer!mattheo
⟡ lead singer!theo (coming soon)
⟡ guitarist!lorenzo (coming soon)
⟡ bassist!reader (coming soon)
⟡ navigation ; masterlists ; au collection
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