#Benjamin wadsworth x reader

[writingsbychlo]

LAST NIGHT | mattheo riddle

summary; on again, off again, you and mattheo have always gone round and round in circles, but this is the last time.

word count; 3962

notes; based on this song! my first ever mattheo fic, or even slytherin boy fic, so hope you enjoy, sorry if it sucks lmao <3

“I’m done, Mattheo!” Your voice bounced off the walls, giving the half-arsed silencing spell you’d cast two hours ago a run for its money. “I’m fed up of this. I’m fed up of your attitude, and your bullshit, and the way you just don’t seem to care about anything!”

“Oh, you’re done?” He mocks, bringing the cigarette back to his lips as he sits on the windowsill, rolling his eyes and blowing smoke out into the night air. 

“Yes, I’m done.”

“Bullshit. You say that every other week. What is this, our fourth breakup this year? Fifth?” Stubbing out what was left on the stone wall, he flicked the butt out into the darkness, finally swinging his legs back to the floor and turning to face you. “You had no problem with my carefree attitude and my bullshit and my laidback nature when we started dating. Why are you throwing a hissy fit now, what’s this really about, huh?”

Your jaw clenched, clenched so hard it hurt. He smirked at that, wider when your fists balled by your sides, and he took an arrogant swig of the firewhiskey the two of you had been splitting. The very drink that had given you the courage to do this in the first place. 

“Nothing to say, then? That’s what I thought.”

“Mattheo—”

“Storm your pretty arse out the door, love. Slam it, like you always do. You’ll come back in the middle of the night, like you always do, and I’ll be here waiting for you.” A lump caught in your throat, and the fiery anger in your body settled into a cool rage. 

“It’s different this time, Mattheo. When we started dating in the fifth year, nothing but having a date to Yule Ball mattered, but we’re two months from graduation, and you— you’re hopeless. We’re hopeless.” His brows pinched, a snarl taking over his features at your harsh words and the small seed of victory was squashed by the tension building in the air. “You won’t tell me anything about our future, about your own and if I even have a place in it. You won’t make plans, you’re barely even passing your classes and you don’t care. It’s been years, Matt, and you still treat me like I’m just some fun.”

“Exclusive fun. At least I’m not sleeping with anyone else.” He smirked again around the words, throat bobbing as he swigged at the whiskey, a golden drop leaking down his chin and your hands itched to wipe it away. “You knew who I was when we met.”

“Yes, I did.” Your voice cracked, and just like that, a gaping cavern seemed to split through all those emotions, leaving a feeling of hollow, cold numbness to fill your chest in its place. So wide it was dark, echoes of feelings bouncing on stone walls, and you rubbed over your chest. “But I wish you were someone I never met.”

Silence filled the space between you both, airtight like the oxygen was starting to thin. “You wish I was someone you never met?”

“Yes.” Your voice shook even as you said it, the glass bottle clinked on the stone ledge as he set the bottle down. His shoes scuffed on the floor, as he made his way over to you, long strides that you matched backwards, until your back was pressed to the door. “Mattheo.”

His hands slammed onto the wood on either side of you, crowding you until your noses were brushing, the warmth of his body seeping into you. His voice was like a growl, skittering along your body like a reverberation as he spoke, “You wish you never met me?”

“I didn’t—”

“No. You didn’t.” He cut you off, your shoulders slumping in defeat as that red in his gaze took over. There was no sentience now, nothing to be said, not as your hand slipped across the wood towards the doorknob behind you. The time for talking was over, there was nothing left to be said now.

He was right. 

He knew you far too well. Just like every other time, you wanted to storm out, slamming the door and cursing his name, promising you’d never go back. Just like every other time, you’d end up coming back to him, over and over again, a vicious circle where you crawl back into his bed, and he whispers sweet things in your ear that never come true, and you go on like it never happened. 

Over and over and over. 

You released the doorknob, his eyes searching your own, and instead, you gripped his jaw. He startled, even more when you yanked his mouth down to yours, hands sliding around until you were pulling yourself up to his height. He groaned, a deep sound as his mouth opened against your own, wet and needy with desperate kisses. 

His body collapsed against yours, pinning you to the door, only interrupted by his own arms sliding around your waist, bodies flush and racing hearts pounding together through your chests.

“See, isn’t this so much better?” He muttered, nipping at your lower lip as your head tipped back to rest on the wood, his mouth beginning to make tracks along your jaw instead. “When you just shut up and stop overthinking, and let things go how they work, huh?”

That same hot mouth continued its path, your breath shallowing as he kissed down and down, wet tongue licking across your collarbones and the swell of your tits. Rough hands pushed up at your shirt, bunching the fabric up as your shaky hands attempted to undo the buttons, falling into every touch and lie that came from his mouth. 

Just like always, you fell into his trap, like a bee to honey, he knew every weakness. Dropping to his knees before you, pretty brown eyes all but sparkled as he smirked up, glittering with victory. His tongue laved over the soft skin below your belly button, tracing the edge of your skirt, fingers toying with the hem line when your own laced into the soft brown curls, pushing them back. 

“Matty…”

“That’s right, baby.” Another wet kiss to your stomach, one sensual enough to leave your back arching against the wood, pushing closer to him as his hands dipped under the skirt to find the sides of your panties. Peeling them slowly down your legs, he propped his chin on the soft pudge of your stomach, peering up. “The only thing that mouth should be screaming at me is prayers to God and begs of my name.”

Your scoff was lost to a moan as he slapped the tender back of one thigh, skin stinging, the welts that would be left by the cold rings decorating his fingers only made you tremble with further excitement, further need. Need for him, desperation for the man who knew you so well, like the back of his hand. Every touch, every tell, every weakness exploited was by design and knowledge. 

“You want my mouth, baby? Say it. Tell me what you want.” A nip to the inside of one thigh, delicate skin abused by teeth and lips, a bruise there he would leave so proudly. 

“I want your mouth.”

“Yeah, I bet you do. Tell me, who would make you come like I can if you left me, huh?” 

A retort sat on the tip of your tongue, stinging words with a bitter bite, ready to chew his head off once more for his arrogance, but it all died away as your head thumped back on the door. His tongue swept through your folds, head hidden under the pleats of your skirt as he lapped from your entrance to your clit, hot breath fanning across your sensitive skin as he moaned. 

He wasn’t gentle, nor was he patient, not as he set to work on something he enjoyed just as much as you did. His tongue worked you over, your thighs trembling on either side of his head as he licked and swirled, fingers sliding up the sides of your legs. You didn’t want to speak, to give him the satisfaction of rewarding him for his effort, teeth sinking into your lower lip in a desperate attempt to keep quiet.

He took it as the challenge it was, growling against your core, the vibrations shaking along your spine and lighting you up like fireworks in the crisp night air, sparking you to life like a fuse. He doubled down on his efforts, wet and messy, pulling on every trick he knew you loved, tongue sinking into your hole just to pull back as you clenched, teasing and taunting until you were dizzy. 

Sucking on your clit until your knees shook, almost threatening to give way, he sank one finger into your dripping cunt, and your pledge for silence gave way, a loud cry slipping from you and bouncing around the room. He nipped at your sensitive clit to celebrate his own victory, a squeaky sound escaping at the sensation, and your nails scratched into the wood of the door, doubtless leaving claw-marks he’d never let you live down. 

That one finger became two, scissoring and curling until you could no longer take it, exploding around his digits with frantic rolls of your hips into his hand. He let you ride it out, never letting up, never stopping his assault, your body spasming under his hold until he was pulling back, other hand pinning your hips to the door. 

Your legs finally gave way, only held up by the support of his body as he kept you locked where you were, slamming those fingers in and out of you until you were begging. Begging for another release, begging for reprieve, begging for anything at all, as he barrelled you towards another orgasm. 

When this one struck it was with a scream, with a burning heat so intense you thought your clothes might turn to ash on your very skin, melt away into nothing the same way every thought in your head had managed to do. 

He finally pulled back, slick and shining fingers going straight to his mouth as his body supported your own, one hand slipping to your hip and holding you tight, steadying you against the door until your shaking breaths evened out. 

The taste of yourself was still on his tongue as his mouth crashed into your own, your shaking hands nothing like his steady ones as the two of you tore at one another’s clothing, stumbling together in a tangle of limbs and kisses towards the bed. Stripping on another of clothes in rough movements and angry tugs and rips, until you were bare, his hot cock pressing to your stomach, smearing precum over your skin and letting you know just how much he wanted you. 

He may have you fucked stupid, wrapped around his little finger, but at least you knew you had him in that same helpless grip. 

Reaching between your bodies and taking his hard cock in hand, he let out a stuttered moan at the first pump, the drag of his flesh in your hand, precum spilling out over your fingers in a sticky trail. His need tasted like sin on your lips, your name a mumbled praise that sounded like a curse as you pumped him slowly, his hands flexing so tightly on your hips they’d no doubt leave tainted marks. 

“Fucking hell, baby. Gonna’ fuck you so good, gonna’ fuck you ‘til you remember some sense, ‘til you’re screaming the way only I can make you.” With one rough shove, you were spilling out across his mattress, gripping the sheets with your fingertips as he crawled up and over you. 

A quick movement and you were flipped, finding yourself face down into the bedsheets, his weight pressing into you at every angle from above, and then—

Then the stretch, the slow drag as he sank into you, joint moans as he gave you no time to adjust. The burning rage in his veins drove him into you until your hips sat snugly together, his throbbing cock stretching out every wall within you to that delicious brink between pleasure and pain. 

“Fuck, Mattheo…”

“Don’t say my name again tonight unless you’re fucking screaming it.” He pulled back, snapping his hips into your own with such brutality that the sound echoed around the room, your fingers screwed into the sheets practically turning white-knuckled with how your body tensed and shuddered. He did it again and again, slamming into you with a force that knocked the breath from your lungs every time. “I’m still so goddamn mad at you, but you’re just too hot when you yell at me.”

“Fuck you.” Your words didn’t have nearly as much vitriol as you wanted, not when they were muttered out into the sheets as your face pressed into them, drool on your lips from every slam of his cock into you. He caught them though, fingers lacing into your hair and yanking your head up, the pace never slowing, even as his body covered your own, lips brushing the shell of your ear. 

“I already am, sweetheart. You just can’t help yourself, giving yourself over to me even when you’re mad. My pretty little slut.”

A particularly sharp thrust, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as every other feeling seemed to melt away until only the pound of his hips into your own was left. You could feel him everywhere, outside and inside, as he filled your every thought and every cell. It had always been like this, utterly intoxicating with him since that very first kiss, the moment those captivating eyes had locked on your own and you’d been tangled in the web that was Mattheo Riddle. 

The first scream slipped free from your lips as his hand came down across your arse with a slap, a condescending chuckle followed it and he rewarded you with an extra hard squeeze. Driving into you with renewed force, he left a matching handprint on the other side, and you cried out his name with cracked voice. “That’s right, fucking take what I give you.”

“Mattheo!”

His name was like a chant now, unstoppable as pleasure swelled and built inside of you, brain going foggy and his name the only thing that was clear, His touch was grounding but his kisses were like a drug, trailed along your shoulder and spine as he smothered you into the mattress, tears building in your eyes with the delicious overwhelm of it all. 

Trembling, shaking, your body was hardly your own as you squirmed beneath him, pushed down into the bed as tears wet the sheets from your eyes, used like a whore and loving every second of it. 

Another peak was building, the tangling in your stomach a telltale sign as your body tensed under his touch, like an instrument he knew just how to play as his fingers skated along your body, tweaking nipples and travelling down to your clit, harsh circles rubbed into the swollen bud.

With only a couple of unsteady circles, you exploded, screaming his name just as he promised you would heat flaring through you, sweat slick between your bodies. 

His lips left sloppy kisses along your neck as he never let up, only stopping enough to pull back, and leave you for just a second as a trembling mess on the sheets. Long enough to flip you over, to push your knees up until they were almost to your chest, hooked over his shoulders as he sank back into your wetness. 

Your hands were shaking, coming up to grip at his biceps, half-lidded gaze locked on that fiery stare of his own, even when his forehead came down to press to your own. Your nails tore welts into his arm, a pleasured hiss on his lips and his hips stuttered, lips tugging up at the edges in a pain-fuelled smirk of sheer bliss.

“God, look at you. My perfect girl, and this perfect pussy grippin’ me so good. I fucking love you, and you love me.” You could only muster a whine in reply, arching your back until your nipples brushed his chest, the added stimulation making your eyes roll back in your head, shuddering right down to every last nerve you had. 

“Mattheo…” Your voice was raw, unable to scream anymore, and a sick gratification flashed over his features, open mouth brushing yours, letting you swallow every moan he let out. 

His hips rolled, the fluttering and spasming of your inner walls sending him toppling over the edge, and with one last rough stutter of his hips into you he stilled. Bracketed between your thighs his weight collapsed atop you, heat flooding your core as he spilled into you, pump after pump, the aftershocks of your orgasm reigniting a little at the feeling, drawing out until you tingled right down to your fingertips. 

If you’d had any strength at all, any ability to even move, you’d shove him off of you, roll away from him out of his grip. Instead, he lay against you, panting, tracing his fingertips softly up and down your ribs in that way he knew you loved, until he’d gained enough of his own strength to push himself up. 

A whimper slipped free from your lips as he pulled out, wetness leaking from you immediately in his absence, goosebumps covering your skin as his body peeled away from your own. Kneeling back between your aching thighs, Mattheo’s lips twisted in a cruel smirk as he eyed the mess he’d left between your thighs, only growling at the embarrassed flush that covered your body as you attempted to snap your legs shut. 

That burning look of anger and passion still flared somewhat in his eyes, no longer a blazing inferno but lingering enough like smouldering ashes, and he barely bothered to reach over the side of the bed and snatch up his abandoned shirt, tossing it onto your chest for you to clean yourself up. He collapsed down onto the bed beside you, a satisfied sigh escaping him as he propped one bent arm behind his head, rolling onto his side and watching you mop between your thighs with amusement, snickering at the sensitive gasps that occasionally slipped free. 

When you were done, his arm snaked over your waist, tugging you closer to face him as you tossed the ruined shirt down onto the floor somewhere to be cared for later. Sometimes he’d light up a cigarette at this moment, in others, he’d pull the hidden bottle of firewhiskey from under his mattress and take a mouthful. Today was one of the rare occasions when he did neither, settling into your side with a smile on his face, eyes slipping closed and he nuzzled half of his face into the pillow on your side.

Your eyes remained open, though. Studying him. It was no wonder you had caved so many times, no wonder it had been so easy every other time to fall into his arms, to believe all his embellished promises and pretty words. So easy to stay, when he looked like an angel, innocent and sweet and kind, with half a smile on his face and an adorably possessive arm over your waist as you cuddled into him. It was just like every other time you’d caved to him. 

But not this time. 

No, for once, you’d be strong. You’d endure the pain of leaving him, endure the suffering of being without him if it meant being happy, being healthy, being the kind of woman a daughter could look up to one day. You would never let your own child, your friends or family endure this kind of toxicity, so why did you continue to allow it for yourself?

No more handsome smiles and golden eyes drawing you back in. 

It was as you were making this decision, taking a bracing, deep breath, that his eyes cracked back open, focusing on where you lay mere centimetres from him. Staring at you from a shared spot on the same pillow, he gave a hint of a smile in the dim lighting of the room, eyes sparkling, like things might really be different this time. 

You’d fallen for it one too many times. 

His lips puckered slightly, expectant for a kiss, and your own lips pressed together, resisting the urge to find his. Instead, you rolled over, throat stinging and eyes burning as you faced away from him, sliding out of the bed. The stone was cold under your feet as they hit the floor, every step from the comforting warmth of the sheets was like stepping into the Arctic. 

“Why are you not in bed right now?” Mattheo groaned, and you heard the sheets rustle as you gathered your clothes. He rolled in the bed, clutching a pillow to his chest instead, an amused look on his face. “You don’t need clothes, I’ll keep you plenty warm.”

Tugging on your shirt, you only bothered with two buttons, his brows rising and smile beginning to dim, as you tugged on your skirt and yanked up the zip. Socks didn’t matter, nor did your tie, shoving them into the pockets of your robe, and he propped himself up among the pillows. 

“What are you doing?”

“Leaving.”

“This again?” He said, still not taking you seriously. His messy hair, swollen lips, those pretty brown eyes, it was all so hard to resist. The frown on his face, the disbelief in your conviction, less so. “Stop being ridiculous and come back here. You’ve made your point, I’m sorry. I’ll do better. Whatever.”

“No, Mattheo. That’s just it.” Finding your shoes and scooping them up, your toes flexed on the cold floor, a protest at the cold, but you’d make it back to your room before they got frostbite. “You won’t change. You never change. I’m not doing this again.”

“We’ve been over this.”

“Yes, and you were right.” His eyes narrowed, confusion flashing over his face at your concession. “I always leave, and right about this time, I always come back, and crawl into your bed, and I’m not doing this again. This time it’s different. This time it’s over, Mattheo.”

“It can’t be over.”

“But it is. This is the best decision for us both, really.”

“I think I should have been part of a decision that's in my interests, then!” He burst, scrambling across the sheets and standing himself, beginning to tug on his own clothes. “We’re not over. We can’t be, you don’t mean that.”

“Mattheo, stop.” He did, pants sitting low on his hips, unbuttoned as his hands fell slack to his sides instead. “Just, give it some thought. You’ll see, I’m right.”

“You’re not right.”

“Sleep on it.” You couldn't do it anymore, any longer and you’d give in like always, fall into his arms and let him temporarily kiss it better. 

“I’m still gonna’ wake up wanting you and me.”

You sighed, hand closing around the door handle again. This time, you had the strength to open it. For once, you truly felt like he was listening to you, like the threat of leaving was at last finding its home within him. He was hearing it. 

“Don’t leave.” He whispered as you stepped into the hall, the silencing spell crumbling around you as you left the bubble, and the sounds of the world came crashing back in. The howl of the wind outside, the shuffle of midnight wanderers in the common room, and owls hooting to the moon, all fill the empty space. “Don’t leave me. I love you.”

“Become something worth staying for, and I’ll keep loving you too.”

#mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle/reader #mattheo riddle x reader smut #mattheo riddle/reader smut #slytherin boys #harry potter #benjamin wadsworth x reader #benjamin wadsworth/reader

[slut4slytherinss]

Labyrinth

Pt. 1 - Gold Rush

SEND REQUESTS!!

Summary: reader finds herself falling in love, hard, for Mattheo not long after she broke her own heart over him. Initially convinced that she will never recover from her pain that he caused, she marvels at how she finds comfort in the boy that hurt her.

1,470 words

Warnings: cursing, basically the same as pt.1 minus the angst, so much cheesiness it’s gross, lovey dovey!mattheo bc I’m extremely soft, sort of angsty but in a beautiful way, these aren’t even warnings atp, the other students being jealous cunts, possible references to books or movies, Regulus is STILL dead (wdym he’s literally in bed beside me rn), Dorothea being kind of rude (dw my girl is still your bestie), Drastoria(to all you Drarry shippers I’m sorry), mention of ronmione, slight rush and basically no plot, SUPER FUCKING SHORT IM SORRY😞

2nd person pov

Hufflepuff prefect reader

Female reader

“It only hurts this much right now.” Was what I was thinking the whole time.

You walk down the hallway aside Mattheo, fingers intertwined. You agreed to try it out and it’s lasted a month, but that doesn’t stop everyone in the castle from starting rumors. He traces circles on the back of your hand with his thumbnail, in a comforting manner, he leans in to whisper in your ear “Let’s go back to my dorm, okay?” You nod. You two go to his dorm a lot, not to hook up, you haven’t had sex since the party, his dorm is like a safe space — and his friends are fucking awesome. You’ve barely even told Dorothea what your relationship has been like, becoming closer and closer with the Slytherins.

-

When you get into his dorm you take your robe off, leaving you in your white button-up, skirt that rests appropriately at your knees, calf high socks and black Doc Martens. Mattheo places your robe gently atop a chair next to his desk before taking his own robe off and kicking his shoes off. “Lay with me, love?” He asks sweetly which causes you to roll your eyes, but oblige. You lie next to him in the bed, just talking. That’s all you two ever do lately, though, it gives you a fair bit of anxiety — trusting him with your secrets. It terrifies you, actually. You need to just—

Breathe in, breathe through, breathe deep, breathe out. I’ll be getting over you, my whole life.

Seriously. He’s unforgettable. You close your eyes and take a deep breath, trying to ease your nerves. Mattheo must feel how tense you are because he begins to trace stars on your back, it’s his little form of comfort. I’ve never been good at that, he’d told you once. Which seems like total bullshit because he always manages to calm you, or at least make you forget about your issues for a while. That also scares you, the fact he can make you want to cry, strangle him, and yourself, but also smile, laugh, hug him. Terrifies you. No one has ever impacted you this much. Everything is moving so fast, but Mattheo is there with you, along for the ride.

You know how scared I am of elevators. Never trust it if it rises fast, it can’t last.

-

You walk into your dorm, laying down on your bed and dropping your bag on the floor. You quickly turn over when you hear Dorothea’s voice “Look who’s finally home.” She says in an annoyed tone. “Dor? What are you doing in here?” You sit up, she looks at you with raised brows and crossed arms. “Really? You start dating Mattheo Riddle, leave me alone for weeks, get new friends and you’re asking me why I’m here?” You swallow, “You told me you’d get over him, you lied to me.” “Dorothea, c’mon, this is like—like a trial, to see if we’re good together, he’s really sweet.” You try to justify your actions “He’s Mattheo Riddle!” She whispers aggressively, shaking her head. “He’s my boyfriend!” You spit out, the word feeling foreign on your tongue. Dorothea visibly flinches, “What?” “He’s—he’s my boyfriend,” you repeat, more confidently. “You just said that the relationship was a trial.” “Well it is, but he’s still my boyfriend. Mine. So stop trying to criticize him and me simply because I care for him.” You breathe out that last part “You care for him?” She asks with a raised eyebrow. “Yes, I care for him. It’s not like—I’m in love with him or something, I just care.” You say quickly. You’re not in love with him. You can’t be, right?

Uh oh, I’m falling in love again. Oh no, I’m falling in love again. Oh, I’m falling in love. I thought the plane was going down how’d you turn it right around?

-

The day after your interaction with Dorothea is, odd, to say the least. You sit outside in the courtyard, leaning against a tree, you’ve been avoiding Mattheo like the plague ever since your revelation. This whole things just feels so—raw. But of course he found you.

It only feels this raw right now, lost in the labyrinth of my mind.

“Hey,” he gives you a small smile. “Hi.” You reply, he sits down next to you. “I haven’t seen you all day, you avoiding me?” That causes you to laugh—and also tell the truth with a few nods. “Yeah, yeah I have.” He tilts his head but doesn’t seem upset in the slightest. “Why’s that?” “Well—um,” you try to get the words out but they seem a little stuck. “It’s okay, take your time.” He brings his hand down to hold yours, tracing gentle circles on your palm. You smile and lean your head on his shoulder. “I care about you, Mattheo.” You admit. He grins, really grins. “I care about you too.” The boy says, “Really?” He nods “Always have,” he leans down so his lips are right next to your ear, “always will.” His whisper is like a secret for only you to hear, a promise that will never be broke, a sacred oath.

Break up, break free, break through, break down. You would break your back to make me break a smile.

-

“Boys!” You call out in a sing-song voice, “I’ve brought sweets!” They got in trouble for talking too loudly during class and were removed from this weeks Hogsmeade weekend, you decided to buy them some sweets. Blaise is the first to you, “Thank Merlin, Y/n!” He snatches a bag from you as you giggle. You toss some sweets onto Draco’s bed as all the boys thank you, Mattheo stands up and wraps his arms around you from behind, kissing your cheek. That action causes all the others to groan and tell you to “Get a room.” Pansy and Astoria walk into the room, talking animatedly, Astoria sits on Draco’s bed beside him, tossing bags of clothes at him, “I’ve got you a new suit.” He grins and kisses the side of her neck in thanks. “Y/n! You totally missed it,” Pansy exclaims, practically shoving Mattheo off of you to lock her arm onto yours. “We caught Weasley and Granger snogging in the bathrooms at Three Broomsticks!” You giggle at her words and sit down on Mattheo’s bed with her, “Seriously? You steal my girlfriend and now my bed?” He asks Pansy, in a mock-offended way, she sticks her tongue out at him. “C’est la vie.” Blaise shrugs with a smirk playing at his lips as he eats the chocolate you gave him. “Speaking of that,” Theodore begins “how’s the sex Matt?” He teases, which causes you to blush and Mattheo to shove Theodore. “Shut it man, that’s so gross.” “Oh c’mon!” Astoria exclaims, “Y/n never tells us anything about it.” She shakes her head. “Maybe she doesn’t want to.” Mattheo defends you, you just stay silent. You tune them out, you just hate how everyone already wants you to be sleeping together. Why would you? It’s taken you long enough to call him your boyfriend, let alone touch him (approximately three weeks). Sure, you’ve hooked up before, but never as a couple. That act is supposed to be intimate with a person you care about. So why do it so soon? You’re taken away from your thoughts by the feel of Mattheo’s hand gripping yours.

You know how much I hate that everybody just expects me to bounce back. Just like that.

-

It’s now been around two months, officially dating, Dorothea has apologized and became friends with the Slytherin’s, it’s all perfect. Except, you and Mattheo still haven’t kissed nor done anything but cuddle and hold hands. You’re not sure why but the act feels too intimate, too scary for you. You’ve kissed lots of guys before—granted none were your boyfriend—but still. You can’t seriously be falling for him, right?

“Hey love,” Mattheo murmurs, dropping a kiss on the top of your head. “Did Dorothea let you in?” You question with a yawn, he just hums and nods, sitting next to you on your bed. “How’s my girl doing?” He asks, “Stressed and exhausted.” You reply as you trace your quill along the parchment “You’re seriously doing that extra credit essay?” “Yes, Mattheo, I am. I’m totally failing Slughorn’s class and he never lets us do shit like this for extra credit, I’m savoring it.” He chuckles and pulls you closer to him by your waist. “Just take a little break. For me?” You groan but end up giving in, leaning back against his chest. “You’re so lucky I lo—“ you cut yourself off quickly, immediately looking away from him. He stiffens, “You what?” He murmurs, you swallow. “Nothing, nothing important.” You say quickly. Mattheo desperately wants to change the subject so he just nods and looks forward.

Uh oh, I’m falling in love again. Oh no, I’m falling in love again. Oh, I’m falling in love. I thought the plane was going down how’d you turn it right around?

After a few minutes of silence, Mattheo speaks again “What were you going to say?” He asks in a whisper, his thumb tracing gentle circles on your hip bone. “It doesn’t matter.” You murmur, but Mattheo is quite persistent and asks again, you finally give in and mutter “I love you.” Which causes his breath to catch, I love you, those words shouldn’t be a big deal—you aren’t asking him to marry you or anything—but they are. He swallows before murmuring “Really?” To which you reply with a timid “Yes.” A slow smile creeps up on his face. “Well, I love you too.” You grin like an idiot, love, a silly thing to be obsessing over—but alas, you are.

Uh oh, I’m falling in love again. Oh no, I’m falling in love again. Oh, I’m falling in love. I thought the plane was going down how’d you turn it right around?

-

A/N: sorry this one was so short, I just wanted to end this on a sweet note.. sooooo yeah. And sorry for the wait lol🙈🙈

#angst #fluff #harry potter #slytherin #blaise zabini #draco malfoy #evermore #slytherin boys #mattheo riddle fluff #mattheo riddle #mattheo x you #mattheoxreader #mattheo x y/n #mattheo riddle angst #x reader #slytherin boys x reader #x you fluff #x you #benjamin wadsworth #Benjamin wadsworth x reader #slut4slytherinss #this took way too long #labyrinth #taylor swift #midnights #fanfic #pls dont hate me #don’t flop #literally gonna kms #i’m dead

[24kmar]

TOOO HOLDDDD TOOO FEELLLLL TOOO BREATHHHH TOOO LOVEEE YOUUUU DANGEROUSLYYY IN LOVEEE

#benjamin wadsworth x reader #benjamin wadsworth #mattheo riddle #tom blyth #josh andres rivera #sejanus plinth #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus snow #keith powers #jessica alba #megan fox #beabadoobee #duke dennis #mason gooding #Austin molino #Sign guy #lana del rey #angelina jolie #central cee #trevor zegras #Ivan tiktok #jude bellingham #maddy cheary #alexa demie #ellie the last of us #felix catton #jacob elordi #timothee chamalet #pope heyward #jenna ortega

[theostrophywife]

focus on me.

pairing: mattheo riddle x reader request: I NEED MATHEO OR THEODORE X FEM READER AND SHE JUST LOVES HIS HANDS AND ARM VIENS AND SHE WALKS INTO HIS DORM AND IS GOBSMAKED TO SEE HIS ABS AND SHE WANTS TO RIDE THEM AND SHES JUST SO OBSESSED AND THINKS HES THE HOTTEST MAN IN THE PLANET- AND SHE FOLDS LIKE A PRETZEL WHEN HE GIVES HER THOSE EYES- JESUS IM A CATHOLIC BUT THEO AND MATTHEO COULD BE MY NEW RELIGION- author's note: big thanks to @writingsbychlo for listening to me rant about this man in her inbox. posting this now so she can wake up to her mans. the way that i would fold for mattheo so fast (theo look away). anyways, enjoy this purely smutty fic 😮‍💨

You were supposed to be studying. 

When you came into his dorm, you specifically told Mattheo not to interrupt you under any circumstances. Usually, you preferred the library but some prat had accidentally set off a dung bomb, which meant closure until further notice. 

You tried studying in your dorm, but your fellow housemates decided that there was no better time to throw a back to school bash in the common room than the night before your Ancient Runes exam. Harry and Ron, who shared the same class, appeared completely unbothered as they chugged firewhisky straight from the bottle. 

Your roommate Hermione was long gone. Probably holed up somewhere in the dungeons with Draco. You followed your friend’s cue and snuck into your boyfriend’s dorm, narrowly avoiding Filch. It never seemed fair that the Slytherins got individual rooms, but tonight you had never been more thankful for it. 

Mattheo had set up a whole battle station for you on his desk. There were fresh ink pots, newly sharpened quills, and blank parchment waiting for you when you arrived. After kissing your sweet and considerate boyfriend, you went straight to work. 

By the time midnight struck, the parchment was filled with glowing runes, making your ink stained hands cramp from drawing out the symbols over and over again. To Mattheo’s credit, he kept to himself and read quietly on his bed while you studied. 

You were so engrossed in the material that you barely registered him kissing you on the cheek before leaving to take a shower. That little mistake cost you because as soon as he walked back into his dorm with nothing but a towel on, you nearly spilled fresh ink all over yourself. 

Water trickled down Mattheo’s chest, the little droplets snaking through his perfectly chiseled abs only to disappear beyond his v lines, which pointed like an arrow to what you knew was hiding underneath that towel. 

The fabric hung dangerously low on his hips as he walked over to his dresser to pick out something to wear. You watched with rapt attention as he braced himself against the wood, those delicious, juicy veins protruding from his forearms and nearly making you dizzy with desire. 

Finally, Mattheo turned. The silence had caught his attention and he smirked when he saw you ogling him. 

“See something you like, pretty girl?”

You flushed. “Just got a little distracted.”

Mattheo’s grin grew. He sauntered over to you, leaning over so that he had you caged against the desk. 

“Oh?” he asked, his voice low and husky and absolutely fucking sexy. “Maybe it’s time for a break then. You’ve been such a good girl studying so hard all night. I think you deserve a reward, my love.” 

Your breath hitched as Mattheo’s lips grazed yours. He tilted your chin up, giving you a perfect view of those brown eyes. Then he gave you the look and you knew you were done for. 

It was a look that said he wanted to devour every inch of you until you couldn’t even recall your own name. You gave in. Of course you gave in. How could you not?

“Maybe for a second…”

Mattheo took the opening. One arm snaked around your waist, bringing you up with him as he pressed you against the desk. His other arm crept up your back until he reached the nape of your neck, fisting your hair through his fingers as he kissed you roughly. 

“Do you even know how fucking sexy you are, princess? My smart schoolgirl in her tiny little skirt.” 

Mattheo carefully moved your studying materials aside before picking you up and setting you down on the table. He gripped the top of your thighs and brought you to the edge while sliding his tongue against yours. You whimpered as he grinded against you, showing you exactly how hard he was underneath the towel.

“Been thinking about bending you over this table all night,” Mattheo whispered in your ear. His hand climbed higher up your thigh and you felt your body instantly respond to his touch. “Bet you’re soaking wet for me already, aren’t you angel?”

You moaned as he toyed with the waistband of your panties. “Matty, please.” 

Your boyfriend smiled at your nickname for him, knowing that he had you right where he wanted you. “What is it that you want, darling?”

“Touch me. Please.” 

Mattheo smirked as he tugged your panties off. His lust filled gaze drank you in as he dragged two fingers through your slick folds. 

“Fuck. You’re so wet. Is this all for me, princess?”

“Mhm,” you mumbled, nipping at his neck. “It’s not fair. You play dirty, Matty. You can’t just walk in here with nothing but a towel on.” 

“Why not, angel?”

You sighed, tracing the hard planes of his chest. His muscles flexed under your fingertips as you gently raked your nails against his six pack. “Because you’re sexy and I can’t help myself.” 

Mattheo chuckled darkly, plunging two fingers in your pussy. You bucked against his hand, watching in stunned silence as he withdrew it only to stick his middle and pointer finger into his mouth. His eyes rolled to the back of his head as he tasted you on him. 

“This is exactly what I mean,” you whined. “For Godric’s fucking sake, how am I supposed to concentrate after that?”

“Maybe we can compromise, angel.” He shuffled through your parchments and stuck one to the wall. “I’m going to trace the runes inside of you and if you get them all right, then I’ll give you your reward.”

You swallowed thickly and nodded. Mattheo grinned before giving you a quick peck. “Pay attention, sweetheart.” 

His fingers dipped through your folds once more and you gripped his arm, fighting the moan from escaping your lips. Mattheo curled his fingers inside of you, drawing a familiar shape. 

“Urus,” you said in a breathy voice. “It means strength.”

“That’s right, angel.” He shifted as you ran your hands down his arms. You could feel his veins throbbing underneath your palm as he fingered you. “Don’t get distracted now. I know how much you love my hands. I promise they’ll be wrapped around your throat by the end of the night if you get all these right. Now focus.”

You nodded, eyes fluttering close as he traced another rune. “Algiz,” you answered. “For protection.” 

“Hot and smart,” Mattheo announced proudly. “How’d I get so lucky?”

His lips grazed yours and you willingly parted for him, fluttering around his fingers as his tongue slid into your mouth. He pumped his digits inside of you, teasing and taunting. 

“Let’s try something harder, princess.” 

Mattheo’s skillful fingers prodded against your walls, sketching a complicated shape. You closed your eyes and focused. It was a tricky one, but you remembered the cris cross pattern. 

“Inguz,” you said decidedly. “Fertility.” 

“That’s right,” Mattheo said with a smile. “You're doing so well, sweetheart. One more and you can have anything you want.” 

“Anything?” you asked with a small smile.

“Whatever that devious little mind of yours desires, my love.” 

“Okay,” you replied. “I’m ready, then.”

Your boyfriend nodded, staring right into your eyes as he marked the last and final rune. It was an effort not to get lost in those warm, brown eyes. But you steeled yourself, determined to claim your prize.

“Rerth. For luck.”

“Good girl,” Mattheo said with a smirk. “Fitting since you’re getting lucky tonight, angel. Where should we start?” 

You bit your lip, cocking your head at him. It was nearly an impossible choice. You wanted to kiss him. Bite him. Lick him. All of the above and more. 

But there was one thing that stood out from all the other deliciously sinful choices. You pressed your palm against his abs and grinned. 

“I want to ride your abs.”

Mattheo’s eyes widened. He hadn’t expected it, but fuck he was so down. He would’ve given you anything with the way you were looking at him right now. 

“You never fail to surprise me,” he said fondly. “Well come on then, let’s make your filthy little fantasy a reality.” 

In one smooth move, he lifted you off the table and deposited you on top of his bed. Mattheo reclined against the headboard and watched with hungry eyes as you straddled his stomach. He smiled as you slipped the tie off your neck and looped it around him. 

It was a simple move, but so fucking sexy and possessive at the same time. You were claiming him. Mattheo was yours and you were his. You belonged to one another—mind, body, and soul. 

Mattheo trailed kisses down your neck and throat, leaving marks on your skin as his deft fingers made quick work of the first few buttons on your blouse. He leaned back and admired his work, his hands gripping your hips while you grinded your soaking wet sex against his muscles. 

He didn’t think it would feel this good. There was something about you using his body to get yourself off that fucking turned him on like no other. Mattheo lifted your skirt up, fisting the fabric in his hands and watching as you coated him with your arousal. 

The little whimpers you were making sounded like music to his ears. “My good little slut,” he said, squeezing your tits as you rode him with reckless abandon. “You’re so fucking filthy, baby. Using me to get yourself off. I’m just your fuck toy aren’t I princess?”

“So good,” you murmured. “You feel so good, Matty.”

The desperation in your voice set him off. He gripped your hips hard enough to bruise and bucked forward, smirking in satisfaction when you moaned. The ridges of his abs rubbed against your clit, providing the perfect amount of pressure to the sensitive area. 

“Keep riding me,” he said in a low, rough voice. “Just like that, angel. Such a good girl for me.”

You closed your eyes, lost to the waves of pleasure coursing through your body. Mattheo gripped your chin, his voice rough around the edges as he spoke. “Open your eyes, darling. I want to watch you cum.”

His rich brown eyes pinned you in place, drinking in every detail. That sexy smirk curved against his lips as he hooked his arms behind his head, admiring the view of his girl riding him. 

“Look at you, baby. You’re making such a fucking mess. Such an innocent face, but you turn into a filthy whore when you’re with me.” 

“Only for you, Mattheo.” 

“Damn fucking right,” he said, sliding his hands under your skirt to rub at your clit. 

You bucked against him, riding out the high. Heat exploded in your core and seeped into your veins. Mattheo kissed you roughly, staking his claim on you as he devoured your moans. 

“That’s it, princess. Cum for me, pretty girl.”

The orgasm felt like a lightning strike. It hit you all at once, making your walls spasm as you came all over Mattheo’s abs. He cursed when he felt you soaking him through, utterly turned on by the mess that you’ve made. Mattheo had never been harder in his life. 

Your boyfriend peppered kisses on your face, pulling you taut to him as you came down from the high. Mattheo brushed a lock of hair behind your ear, tilting your chin up so he could press his lips against yours. He groaned and held your hips down, grinding his boner against your ass. 

“I’m not done making you cum, princess. You’ve got one more in you, don’t you angel?” 

As sensitive as you were, your pussy throbbed at his words. When it came to Mattheo, you could never really get enough. 

“I thought I only got one reward. You’re spoiling me, Matty.” 

“There’s no question about it. You’re my spoiled rotten little princess. But this reward isn’t for you, it’s for me.” He smacked your ass, gesturing for you to get up. “Now come on, angel. I was serious about that desk.” 

He smirked as he walked you back to his desk, his hands disappearing underneath your skirt as he massaged your ass. Mattheo kissed you roughly before he flipped you over, bending you on the desk so you were face down and ass up. He flipped your skirt up, hissing when he found you soaking wet again.

“You just can’t help yourself can you, princess?” He pumped himself in his hand before sliding the tip of his cock along your folds. “Gods, you’re fucking wet. Are you ready, baby?” 

You whimpered, rocking your hips against him for more friction. Mattheo held you in place, fisting your hair in his hands. 

“Use your words, darling. I want to hear you beg like the good little slut that you are.” 

“Please, Matty,” you whined. “I need you so badly that it hurts.” 

He kissed the base of your spine, grinning as he eased his length inside of you. Still sensitive from your last orgasm, you gripped the edges of the table as Mattheo buried his cock within your walls. Your legs felt like they were going to give out any minute, but he kept you upright, cursing when he felt how wet and tight you were. 

“Fuck,” he grunted as he thrust into you slowly. Mattheo gripped you from behind, picking up the pace. Your pussy clenched around him like a vice. “Gods, pussy’s so good baby. You’re doing so well. Taking all of me like my perfect little whore.” 

Mattheo fucking adored the way you blushed at his filthy words. He leaned over, capturing your lips in a sloppy kiss as he fucked you into the table. He thought he was going to pass the fuck out when you grinded back into him, meeting his movements to take more and more of him. Mattheo leaned over and shielded your head from the wall, making sure you were protected as the table shook underneath you. 

The sound of skin slapping against skin mixed with your breathy little moans was enough to send him over the edge, but he wanted to make good on his promise. Mattheo always put his girl first. The boys were right. He might be just a little bit pussy whipped. 

Even without the sex, you could’ve asked Mattheo to kill for you and he would’ve done so without question. 

“I fucking love you, darling. I’d kill for you. I’d die for you,” he said, every word laced with conviction. “Forever and always.” 

“I love you too, Matty. Forever and always.” 

He kissed your cheek, the action surprisingly soft compared to how rough the sex was. You felt like you could’ve melted onto the floor. 

“Cum with me, my love.” 

Mattheo wrapped his arms around you as that familiar heat spread burned in your core. He held you as the orgasm rocked through your body, sharing in the euphoric high while the two of you finished together. His grip around you only tightened, hugging you from behind while he slowly pulled out. You were barely keeping upright as it was, your legs threatening to give out under you. 

Without a word, your boyfriend scooped you into his arms and brought you back to bed. He cradled you against him, whispering praises and encouragement while stroking your hair. 

“You did so well, baby. I’m so proud of you for remembering all those runes. You’re gonna ace your exam tomorrow.” 

“You really think so, Matty?” You snuggled against him, burying your head in the crook of his neck. Mattheo stroked your back and placed a kiss on your temple. 

“I know so, darling. You have no idea how proud I am for having such a smart girlfriend. I love bragging about you to our friends.” 

You flushed. “Well, I couldn’t have done it all on my own. I had some help from my smart, sweet, and sexy study partner.

Mattheo grinned and kissed you gently. “Glad to be of service, my love.” 

taglist: @annaisabookworm @marina468

please let me know if you'd like to be added.

#FERAL FOR THIS MAN #THE DELULU IS THE SOLULU #mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle x you #mattheo riddle smut #mattheo riddle fluff #mattheo riddle x y/n #mattheo x you #benjamin wadsworth

[wordsarelife]

—starlight

pairing: soft!mattheo riddle x fem!reader

summary: mattheo had been liking you for years and when you loose your cat, it's finally his time to prove how good of a boyfriend he would be

warnings: really small mention of a loved one dying

notes: y/n is a bit luna lovegood coded

the morning was hotter than the days before, even though it was slowly becoming fall. mattheo and his friends had decided to stay inside for the first time in weeks and were now sitting in the Iibrary, busy understanding their potions homework.

"so" enzo mumbled, the words a bit harder to recognize, because he had the tip of his quill between his lips "what is the answer to number eight?"

"if i tell you, you won't learn anything" theo, the only one who was really understanding the task at hand, groaned.

"yeah, but we would stop wasting our time" mattheo mumbled just silent enough so theo wouldn't hear. blaise, who sat next to him, laughed.

"come on, mate" draco started pleading "you know i normally get these, but it's so hot outside, i'd rather swim in the lake"

"well, you have to earn that first" theo was not budging under the pleading of his friends. blaise, draco, enzo and mattheo groaned simultaneously

"where is pansy? shouldn't she sit here with us and be annoyed at you?" blaise asked, while his eyes wandered to the empty spot next to draco, that was normally occupied by the girl.

"she's got detention with mcgonagall, i'm copying the answers for her" draco answered

"well, now that's unfair" mattheo shook his head "why don't you say anything about that, theo?"

it seemed like theo hadn't even listened to what his friends were talking about. he was busy reading the next number and looked up confused. "what?"

"forget it" mattheo hid his face in his hands, while blaise and enzo exchanged a look, rolling their eyes

"woah" blaise suddenly made next to him "isn't that y/n?"

mattheos head turned, so did the rest of his friend's.

it was indeed you. the slytherins watched in confusion how you climbed the ladder leaning against the shelf. their confusion only grew when you didn't stop climbing at the highest shelf, but used your arms to pull you up on top of the shelf.

"what is she doing?" enzo mumbled

“i have no clue” mattheo watched you closely, following your every move.

he had been kind of in love with you since the third grade. his friends found his crush on you quite interesting, considering you were a bit curious and weird, but somehow all of them agreed that it was in a cute way, a bit too stubborn, a bit too much in your own world.

maybe the carelessness and constant happy mood you were spotted with only added to their confusion. mattheo wasn’t normally the guy to go for girls like you. and it was out of the ordinary to see him as nervous as he was around you. girls normally didn't make him nervous, but you did.

they all gasped simultaneously, as one of your hands hit the shelf a bit too far left and almost made you fall down.

“oh” you said, both at your close call and their presence, you had only noticed them now. “hi” you used the hand that had almost caused you to fall to wave at them

“hey, y/n!” theo raised his hand, copying your greeting, while his eyes were still fixated on the potions book on the table in front of him. he was the only one of his friends who was also friends with you, a result of your similar interest in astronomy.

mattheo watched you closely. he had stood up to catch you, in case there was another close call. him and the rest of his friends watched you as you crawled along the shelf.

“what are you doing?” enzo asked, louder than he had planned which resulted in madam pince shushing him. "sorry" enzo cringed, but it was already too late.

his voice had been so loud and sudden, that it had made you shriek. like mattheo had predicted, you lost your balance and fell down the shelf. luckily, he caught you before you could hit the ground.

“thanks” you smiled, patting his chest and climbing out of his arms.

mattheo was stunned at how relaxed you still were after almost falling to your death. well, maybe not death but you still could've gotten hurt really bad.

“i was looking for my cat” you smiled as if it was the most logical explanation, answering enzo’s question, without any hard feeling about him causing you to fall. “but she isn’t up there”

“ahh, alright” enzo nodded, acting like he understood what you were talking about, but he looked as lost as mattheo felt.

“see you later” you waved your hand at the boys before you turned around and left the library.

mattheo quickly grabbed his potions book, ready to follow you.

“what are you doing?” theo looked at him with narrowed eyes, almost sounding offended “we haven’t finished number nine yet”

“i was trying to..” mattheo trailed off, pointing at where you had last stood

“go” draco directed, pushing theo, who was ready to get up and discuss things with mattheo, back down in his seat.

blaise plastered a hand over theo’s mouth as he started protesting. mattheo nodded at his friends, silently thanking them, before he ran out of the library, hoping to still catch you.

to his luck, you had enough time on you to walk through the halls slowly.

“hey” mattheo breathed, matching your step “do you need help looking for your cat?”

“sure” you seemed happy enough about his suggestion “her name is starlight, but she doesn’t really answer to that, so there’s no point in calling her”

“okay” mattheo nodded “and she normally spends her time on top of the library shelves?”

“sometimes” you shrugged “she mostly spends her time all over the castle”

“do you often do things like that?”

“what?” you smiled “climb on top of shelves and let pretty boys catch me? not really, no” you shook your head laughing, while mattheo was still stuck on what you had described him as.

“how does starlight look like?” he tried a different approach as he followed you through the halls, almost sure you were heading to the astronomy tower.

“she’s a ginger cat”

“well, that’s explains a lot” mattheo laughed and you joined in “why doesn’t she answer to her name?”

“she belonged to my grandfather, she would only ever answer his calling, or react to his voice in general” you explained “he died a few months ago and my parents thought about giving her away, so she's now staying with me”

“that’s sad” mattheo frowned “i’m sorry about your loss”

“don’t be” you smiled up at him with big eyes and he almost missed a step on the way up. “he wasn’t the nicest, i don’t think he even liked anyone apart from his cat, but she’s nice enough most of the time”

“i get it” mattheo nodded understandingly “so where would she normally hide?” he looked around the room, trying to spot the orange fur of your cat. now that he thought about it, he remembered you chasing her around the halls a few times.

“you mind helping me up?” you pointed at the wooden beam over both of your heads

“seems like she prefers the higher spots, huh?” mattheo asked sarcastically, before he picked you up without another word of protest

you climbed on top of the beam, turning your head, before you finally shook it and mattheo helped you back down.

“where could she be if she isn’t here either?”

“i have one last spot in mind” you nodded, thinking “if she isn’t there, then i don’t know where she could still be”

“well, hopefully she is”

“as long as she’s fine” you smiled

mattheo followed you back down the steps of the tower, pending what he could still ask you. he wouldn’t waste any time he could spend with you, he would make the most of it.

his mind was racing, trying to come up with something, but the only thing he could remember was the list of thirty six questions blaise had shown him the day before, swearing that those were the best icebreakers at a first date.

well, this was far from a first date, but it did not hurt to try

“given the choice of anyone in the world, whom would you want as a dinner guest?” he muttered, recalling the first question.

your face lit up at his sudden question. “that’s a fun question” you smiled “let me think about it. does the person have to be alive?”

mattheo shook his head

“well then i would pick my grandmother, i think” you smiled, deep in thought “she was a great woman. i remember my grandfather being a decent person back when she was alive. she used to make these crocheted hats for me. i have them in almost every color”

“that sounds nice” mattheo smiled as he noticed how your features lit up while talking about your grandma. he followed you into the great hall, not even questioning it.

“what about you?” you asked him, taking a quick turn and walking up the steps around the wall of the entryway.

“what about me?” mattheo repeated confused

“yeah” you laughed at his forgetfulness “who would you have dinner with?”

“i don’t know” mattheo shrugged

“i don’t accept that answer” you shook your head “i can't believe that no one comes to mind at that”

there was someone coming to mattheo’s mind. but he couldn’t tell you. right now, he only wanted to have dinner with one person and that person was you, and maybe your cat, because not finding her would probably mean that you would be sad otherwise.

“merlin” mattheo answered quickly and you raised your eyebrows

“fan?”

“the biggest” mattheo grinned and cringed the moment your eyes left his face. he was ready to turn around and run away, but your sudden calling kept him from it.

“starlight!” you laughed, holding out your arms and catching the orange cat that had been about to fall from the highest shelf.

“hey” mattheo cooed, softly stroking the cat’s head. the cat hissed at him and he quickly pulled his hand back.

“she likes you” you smiled brightly despite starlight proving the opposite.

“you really think so?” mattheo asked unsurely.

“of course” you were pulling the cat close to your chest “she’s smiling at you”

mattheo wasn’t so sure about that. starlight looked like she was ready to claw his eyes out if left unattended in the same room.

starlight settled on top of your shoulder as you began to walk back down the stairs. mattheo was ready to follow, but starlight hissed at him over you shoulder and it took him a second longer to catch up to you.

despite anything you had previously said, he was sure that that cat absolutely loved you, even if she often spend her time sleeping in the most ridiculous places and making you search for her. he was sure you loved her just as much, even you had so casually talked about the cat's situation he had noticed that you couldn't have endured your parents just giving her away. he had also noticed the worry in your eyes when stalright hadn't been in the astronomy tower.

additional to that, he was also sure she already hated him. maybe she could sense the inappropriate thoughts he sometimes had about you.

“thank you for your help” you had walked mattheo back to the doors of the library, after he had claimed that his friends would probably appreciate his return to finish the homework.

“no problem” he smiled and he had almost sighed at the how pretty you were, just simply standing in front of him “i’d do anything” he mumbled under his breath.

“what?” you laughed, not having understood a sound of what he had mumbled. starlight was busy playing with a strand of your hair. mattheo had to smile at that and you mirrored his expression.

“doesn’t matter” mattheo shrugged and his smile grew brighter as he watched you laugh at him.

you softly held a hand in front of starlight's eyes, before you stood on your tiptoes, softly kissing mattheo's cheek. “thank you, maybe we could have dinner some day” you said, before you waved him a final goodbye “say goodbye starlight” the cat hissed at him once again and you smiled pleased, before you turned around and walked back in the direction of your dorm.

“i’d do anything” mattheo repeated his earlier words when you were far enough away. his cheeks were red and his hand touched the spot on which your lips had rested a few seconds ago. “anything”

#mattheo riddle headcanon #mattheo x you #mattheo riddle x you #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle #slytherin group #slytherin boys #slytherin boys x reader #slytherin #hogwarts #hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry #luna lovegood #mattheo riddle fanfiction #benjamin wadsworth #hufflepuff x slytherin #soft!mattheoriddle

[yhomtorkec4nt]

i cant argue with a sad brown eyed boy, whatever u say beautiful

#general hp #harry potter #slytherin #mattheo riddle x reader #benjamin wadsworth #brown eyes #slytherin boys #blaise zabini #enzo berkshire #pansy parkinson #theodore nott #draco malfoy #harry potter universe #hp fanfic

[angelfrombeneth]

MESSY - M . RIDDLE

Mature and Possibly Triggering Content Ahead

Mattheo Riddle x F!Reader

Summary: You and your bestfriend of 13 years have a bit of a spat, that turns into her being a shit friend. So you also return the favour.

Warnings: SMUT, Implied Cheating, Slight mention of violence, Your bestfriend is a shitty friend, You do something shitty, Dom!Mattheo, Sub!Reader, Not been proofread - expect slightly grammar errors.

A/N: Thought I'd switch it up with Theo and do a Mattheo short. This is just a random draft. It's not one of my best works but I wanted to put something out cuz it had been a while. I've been super busy w my studies so I haven't had time to finish my other fics or any asks. So please accept this for now 🫶

"Hey Erica!" You smiled as you skipped up to your friend. Erica had been your best friend for 13 years. Your mother's were best friends before your mum passed, you grew up together and stuck by eachother no matter what. Even when you both got sorted into two different houses; she got Slytherin and you got Hufflepuff. Despite all odds, you both at in 6th year still going strong.

Erica turned to look at you, her eyebrow quirked. "What?"

You stood before her, confused with her attitude. "I thought we could go hangout in the pavilion together?"

She turned to her group of Slytherin friends and snickered slightly, bidding them goodbye before looking at you. "Sure, Where's Cedric?" You looked at her weirdly while you both walked towards the pavilion.

"I'm not sure, why'd you ask?"

"No reason, just suprised your both always at eachothers hip, it's weird he's not"

"Your right.. I should ask him-"

"No!" She cut you off. "Its ok, ill ask him for you, maybe he won't tell you the real reason"

"Thanks Erica" You smiled. The pair of you sat in the pavilion and gossiped about many different things.

You spotted Pansy across the pavilion waving you over to her and her friends. "Hey, I'm going to see Pansy, ill see you later?" You stand.

"Her? You're friends with her" Erica scoffed, her arms crossed over her chest.

"Whats wrong with Pansy?"

"Everything, she's just a fucking whore. All those guys she's friends with she probably sleeps with them all she's a wh-"

"Erica stop it. I don't know what your deal is... Pansy is nice to me ok? Just drop it" You looked at her weirdly from her behaviour.

"Your right, I'm sorry. I'll go speak to Cedric now for you" She smiled before rushing off.

You shrugged it off and walked over to Pansy smiling.

"Y/N!" She cheered as you sat down next to her. "We were just talking about how cute you and Cedric are, 3 months now right?" Pansy smiled at you.

"Yeah, it's going great, im really happy actually"

"Thats so good, Although we always thought you'd end up with a Slytherin boy" Astoria snickered.

"Really? Who, I don't even really talk to many of the guys" You quirked.

"Probably Theo, he's the gentleman out of them all, the best choice other than my Blaise" Daphne smiled.

You smiled at her, Her and Blaise had been together since 2nd year. They were like the powerhouse couple of Hogwarts, perfect in every way.

"Pans, did you and Erica have an argument she seems to have a strong.. hatred for you" You looked to the girl beside you.

Pansy looked up at Daphne and Astoria and laughed slightly before taking your hand. "I never did anything to her, she's just jealous I'm friends with the guys. She keeps implying I'm 'fucking them all' but I'm literally gay" Pansy snickered.

"Thats literally what I thought, I thought everyone knew?"

"Everyone does, Erica is just fucking stupid" Tori scoffed, crossing her legs over eachother.

"Tori-" Daphne glared to her.

"Besides its because her and Mattheo have this thing or whatever, and me and him are close" She shrugged.

"Mattheo? As in Mattheo Riddle?" You raised your eyebrow.

"Yeah- Why?" They all looked at you weirdly.

"Isn't his dad like.. You-know-who?" You whispered.

They all laughed at you softly. Pansy patting you on the back.

"You're so sweet and innocent" Astoria cooed.

A loud bell chimed around the whole castle you all stood up.

"Fuck, I have potions" Astoria groaned.

"You'll live" Daphne laughed at her.

"See you around Y/N!" She smiled to you as you all parted ways.

You sighed as you walked into the castle.

Over the next few weeks you hung out more with Pansy, Daphne and Astoria. Everytime you'd hang out with Erica she'd ice you out or something. You also notice Cedric just get more and more bored with your presence which just didn't make you feel any better. You had wondered what Erica and Mattheo were considering she never once mentioned him to you. At all.

You sighed, as you stared down at your tea leaves, poking at them with your wand.

You felt a gush of wind beside you as someone sat in the always vacant seat.

"I know this seat isn't taken, so I will be sitting here" You heard. You looked up to see Mattheo, smiling down at you.

"I take notice when my favourite girls start hanging out with another person, which means you must be a goodie" He smiled at you. "Y/N, right?"

You nodded smiling. "I didn't realise you all were so close"

"We are like a second family, since our actual ones are pretty shitty" He snickered.

Over the following weeks you had grown close to all the Slytherins, hanging our with them all. Occasionally Cedric would come over but he wasn't that interested which just irked you. He had apologised for his lack of presence that made you feel a bit better.

You and Mattheo had become quite close, to him he was quite fond of you. Found you very cute. Erica didn't like your friendship with Mattheo all of a sudden and this was the brunt of most of your arguments. You always apologised then backed away from the group for a day or so, but it was just like a forever cycle.

You had discovered, Mattheo and Erica were dating but you were confused as to why she hadn't told you but you didn't want to take it to heart, there must've been a reason.

After class, you walked down the halls, students rushing quickly to make it to their next class, as you walked down towards the Hufflepuff entrance you noticed all the Slytherin boys all hanging in the kitchen.

"Feeding time at the zoo again?" You snickered. The boys all turned staring at you like deers caught in headlights. This wasn't the first time you'd come across them in the kitchen. You had grown close with the Slytherin boys recently, but you had grown to know them more for you sort exchanges everytime you see them feasting away.

"Fuck- Y/N you scared us. I thought you were a fucking teacher" Blaise sighed.

"Why are you guys always here on my free" You quirked your brow.

"We just wanna see you so bad!" Enzo whined as you chuckled.

"Where you off to in a rush anyway" Draco licked his finger from the pie covering it.

"M' meeting Cedric in the common room. I'll see you guys later" You smiled to them before walking a bit away from the kitchen and entering the Hufflepuff commonroom.

If you could go back to 2 minutes ago when you were laughing at the boys stuffing their face with pie. You would.

As you rounded the corner towards the opening of the commonroom to froze, hearing giggles and.. moaning? What freak would fuck in the common room, you scoffed. What you didn't expect was who. You decided to just ignore the sounds and quickly pass up to Cedrics dorm when you caught a glimpse of an oh so familiar green gem clawclip thrown across the floor.

"Erica?" You raised your eyebrow as you stared at the couch.

You watched as Erica sat up, disheaved hair and messy makeup before the other person sat up to. That person being... Cedric.

"Cedric- Erica what the fuck??" You shouted at them both.

"Y/N- He threw himself at me, I swear. We were just talming and-" She gasped, standing up and changing herself.

"What No??- It's not what it looks like- She"

"SHUT UP!" you screamed. "I'm not going to sit here and listen to your stupid excuses. You didn't slip and fall into her Cedric be fucking for real" You scoffed at him, storming up to him and slapping him across the face. Your voice cracked as you yelled and turned on your heels and ran from the common room.

"Y/N WAIT!-" Cedric yelled.

As you rounded the last bend the last thing you heard- "Wellthat was easy, see you later Cedric" Erica cackled.

You thought she was your friend, best friend forever. She was a fucking liar. A disgusting whorey liar. You sobbed as you ran from the commonroom towards the stairs. You ran past the kitchen, the slytherin boys noticing you running. You didn't stop, you had to go to Pansy. You knew she had a free and she was in her dorm. So you ran there.

Third POV:

"Was that Y/N?" Enzo poked his head out of the kitchen confused by your rushed nature.

"She was crying- I hope she's OK.." Theo hit his lip slightly nervous for you.

"She's fine, probably stubbed her toe or something" Draco snickered.

Mattheo and the boys decided to ignore the fact Y/N ran past crying and it probably wasn't any of your issues. That was until he noticed two people sneak past the kitchen.

"Who was that?" Enzo questioned.

"No clue" Mattheo shrugged.

Your POV:

The next few days you spend sobbing and skipping classes. Astoria, Pansy and Daphne took turns looking after you as you wailed in their arms. Not only had your friend relationship fucked up. He cheated on you and with your 'best friend'.

When you told the girls they were pissed. You practically had to talk Astoria out of certain violent consequences. They stayed with you and comforted you for ages. The first few days were crucial.

You had recieved owls from Erica, explanation in her own fucked up words how the situation wasn't at all what she thought it was and how it was just a huge misunderstanding. You couldn't help but scoff at her bullshit.

Three weeks had passed since everything you left Pansys after a few days and stayed boarded up in your room for an additional 2 weeks. No one came in and no one came out. The girls were concerned for you but understood you needed time.

News travelled that you and Cedric broke up but nothing about Erica being a home wrecker. When you finally left your pit after nearly 4 weeks you had seen significant changes. You were quite pale due to lack of sun and nutrients - you didn't look sick you just looked tired. People noticed and just felt.. bad for you. What really set you over the edge is in these 4 weeks not only had Erica homewrecked your relationship- she had clung to the people you had become to get comfortable with.

This was the second time Erica had done this to you. In 3rd Year you had started dated Adrian Pucey when she swooped in and was making out with him. She had told you he threw himself at her and she was so sorry she didn't mean to hurt you and you fucking believed her. Now this was just proof she was a bitch and she expected you to just forgive her which is what you'd do, but you had to come up with a plan.

You walked down towards the Slytherin common room, and up towards Erica's dorm. Erica only had one other dormmate but she was in the hospital wing currently due to a mishap in potions.

You knocked on the door and the door swung open to reveal Erica. A sickening smile spread across her lips as she let you in.

"Oh Y/N- I'm so glad your here. I need to explain everything to you" She wore a fake pout as she hugged you before pulling away.

She was rushing around her room fixing her hair and doing her makeup as she spoke to you. You sat on her bed.

"I was talking to Cedric, about what I said when he threatened me. He was saying about how he'd hurt you and how he'd do horrible things to you if I didn't sleep with him Y/N"

Really. Does she really think you'd believe this. You had to try your best not to laugh.

"Erica that is so horrible- I know you didn't mean to- You'd never do anything to hurt me" You smiled.

"Exactly!" She turned to look at you smiling. "He was a terrible boyfriend Y/N you can do so much better- Look stay here. I'll be back, I have to go see Mattheo in the hospital wing but I'll be back soon. Then we can have a girlie night" She smiled again. That fame smile was irking you.

"Of course" You smiled as she rushed out of the door leaving you. How stupid was she to think you'd believe her bullshit lies. You peered around the room, groaning. Why did she get to keep a boyfriend after all of this.

Speak of the devil, the door swung open to reveal Mattheo, leaning against the door frame as he quizzically looked at you.

"Y/N? Where'd Erica?" He asked.

"Mattheo? She said she went to the hospital wing for you-"

Mattheo rolled his eyes scoffing. "I came here to break up with that cheating slut and she's gone to cheat. How ironic" He laughed, venom lacing his tone. "I know your friends but seriously you can do b-"

"Actually we aren't friends" You cut him off. "I was here to listen to her bullshit excuses on why she fucked my boyfriend" You scoffed.

"Cedric too?" Mattheo scoffed. "I don't get it, I was actually a good boyfriend to her, for once I wasn't the asshole" He laughed mockingly.

Mattheo sat next to you on Erica's bed as the pair of you sighed. It was quite for a moment before you spoke.

"Maybe she needs a taste of her own medicine.." You peered to Mattheo, who was now smirking.

"A dark streak for a little hufflepuff like you? Do go on" He bit his lip as he stared down at you. Now you look at it, Mattheo was twice the size of you.

"Maybe we could.. you know" You looked down.

"I'm a changed man Y/N- but fuck, my old ways would always come back for you" He smirked, referring to his last two years of THE player and heartbreaker of Hogwarts.

Before you could reply you heard a soft chuckle before Mattheo's hands are instantly all over you. He kisses you softly but needingly. The way his lips move against yours as his hands grab at the plush of your thigh.

You could almost laugh at his neediness but it turned you on even more. You climbed onto his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck as you pull him closer, needing more. Your tongues dancing upon eachother as you grinded down against his growing bulge. The softly moans he'd release into your mouth were enough to have you moaning.

You broke away shortly as the pair of you quickly stripped down to your underwear. You stood up, throwing your jumper and shirt off as you shimmied out of your skirt. Mattheo kicked off his trousers, throwing his jumper and shirt across the room just in time to catch you as he jumped onto him again. A light chuckle leaving his mouth as the pair of you sat pratically skin to skin.

"God you are so fucking hot" He smirked, biting his lip as you sat back down on his lap, as he sat at the end of the bed.

He watched as you, pulled your panties off, dropping them beside the end of the bed as you yanked at his boxers. Smirking as his cock sprung out and hit his stomach.

"So big, and you were all hers?" You smirked, pecking his lips softly as you pulled yourself closer, instantly sinking down on his length as you yelped at the size. His grip, harsh on you as his fingers dug into your hips,his eyes slightly rolling at the sensation.

"Fuck-" You sighed out as you wiggled down on him, reaching back to unclasp your bra and tossing it aside, before pulling him closer and smashing your lips onto his yet against as you grinded down against him.

You gasped, as he gripped your waist, thrusting up into you as he sat on the edge of the bed. "Dont be a bitch Y/N" He smirked against your mouth as your tongues tied to one another as your hands roamed all over. His hands reached to your ass, squeezing, gripping and slapping the flesh as much as he could as your hips buckled against his, his cock burying itself deeper inside of you.

"mm.. J-just like that" You sighed, reading your head against his shoulder as you rocked your hips back and forth against his, sighing at the sensation.

He couldn't handle it much longer as he threw you down against the bed, giving you time to get on all fours as he kicked off his boxers as he gripped your hips and began to piston into you. Your back arched as you gripped the sheets, your teeth sunk into the duvet as you whined into the cotton. You could practically hear his filthy smirk as you whined. His hands aggressively gripping at your love handles as he bounced against you, pulling you back harshly with each thrusted rebound. The way your skin slapped loudly against his as it collided. The way your ass, bounced against his thrusts sent him over the edge.

With each thrust, his hand would grasp at the flesh of your ass, squeezing it or slapping it as you whined down into the mattress. A filthy smirk spread across his face.

"Oh fuck!-" You gasped as you whined, eyes rolling back slightly as you gripped at the sheets.

"Good girl- Good fucking girl.. Taking it so well" He growled from behind. His voice just made you even wetter, the whole situation had your stomach in knots.

He continued on your ass as you gasped for air, his hand yanking at your hair, collecting it into a messy ponytail as he yanked you up and back against his chest. His free arm snaked around your waist, pushed down against your lower stomach, intensifying each thrust as you could feel the pressure of his arm. You whined out loudly, gasping at the sensation as he took the chance to let go of your hair and wrap a hand around your neck.

You gazed to the side to look at Mattheo, as he smirked, before kissing you roughly. His tongue instantly sliding into your mouth as you sighed into the kiss. Toying with his tongue as his cock made at home inside your walls. The way he thrusted in and out like he owned it had you on the edge.

You broke away momentary, gasping for air as he pulled away completely. The emptiness between your legs prominent as you whined, falling forward but catching yourself, moving to lay on your back against the bed, looking up at him.

"Miss me already" He laughed, sweat dripping down his body as he stared at you smirking, as he climbed ontop of you, kissing down your neck, sucking softly at the skin.

"Fuck- How can I not, when you look like that" You chuckled, running your hands up and down his naked body. You couldn't help but let your hand linger over his stomach, as your fingers dipped between the crevasses of his chiselled chest.

"You're bad, fucking your bestfriends boyfriend" He smirked, biting his lip as he hovered over the top of you, his hand pumping his cock as he stared down at you.

"She did it first, I'm just returning the favour" You smirked, pulling his neck as you pulled him into a kiss. You could feel Mattheo smirked against you as he lined up yet against to thrusts into you. His forehead against yours as he smirked down at you.

"You are so cute, shame it took this to see your dark side" He laughed as his thumb caressed your cheek softly, pecking your lips as he slowly slid back into you. You gasped, arching your back, as your chest pressed up against his as your body shook below him.

"God, I fucking love how you just melt at my fucking touch. So slutty" He laughed lowly in your ear, as he nibbled on the shell of it before biting at your shoulder and sucking on it as he began to thrust.

As he began the thrust at first they were soft, his lips peppering kisses all down your neck and collarbone as you whined softly under his touch. You watched as he licked the bruises that had formed across your skin as he smirked down at you. His smirk was sickening. Sickeningly sweet.

His cock sunk in and out of you like it was moulded for you. The way you whined and moaned into his ear had him harder than ever. He was obsessed with you and the pretty little sounds you made.

As he fucked you, he tossed your leg over his shoulder as he continued to fuck you at such an animalistic pace you were unsure if you'd make out of this in one piece. Your stomach, knotted at the pleasure. You hummed and whined as his cock thrashed in and out of you as he whined.

His lips capturing yours once against for a kiss, yet this time deeper. His lips moved so sensually against yours, as he kissed you with such passion. His hand, clasped around your neck as his tongue slid in and out of your mouth as the pair of you hummed. It was like time stopped and it was just you. You had never been fucked this good before, but thanks to Mattheo you now had.

You continued to whined with each thrust, gasping as you gripped at his hair, tugging on it. Mattheo's slight chuckles at every whine that left your mouth sent you spiraling.

As he kissed your deeper and fucked you harder you heard as scream, causing you both to pull away from the kiss. But that didn't stop Mattheo from railing the fuck out of you still. The pair of you looked over his shoulder to see Erica stood in the doorway. On urge you went to pull away from Mattheo in embarrassment but he held you down, smirking back at you as he sped up causing you to arch your back, screaming.

"Mhm- Fuck.. Your dick is so perfect" You whined as your gaze slightly lingering on Erica as the pair of you made eyecontact before you arched your back, leaning back and gripping the headboard. as he fucked you into the mattress. Your body recoiling against the thrusts as the bed creaked and shook.

The two of you edging closer to your high before you both case against one another. You pulled him closer as you kissed him deeply. Moaning softly into his mouth as you creamed his cock. Sighing softly as your body slowly loosened up.

Mattheo pulled away, smirking as he licked his lips. The pair of you had forget Erica was in the room and could more than happy stay like this until you heard a shrill shriek. "WHAT THE FUCK!" She yelled.

The pair of you untied from one another as you sighed, standing up and pulling your clothes back on, as Erica stood in shock at the two of you.

As you buttoned your shirt, you threw your jumper of your shoulders as you grabbed your heels before walking around Erica. "Just returning the favour" You smiled at her wholeheartedly. "Have fun cleaning" You turned to Mattheo before you left, shooting him a wink as he still led against the bed, bare naked.

"You- WHAT??" You could hear the cogs turning in Erica's head as you felt the scene before hearing crashing and screaming. Now she knows how you felt I guess, and well.

She deserved it.

#harrypotter fanfiction #slytherin boys #slytherin boys fanfiction #slytherin fanfiction #benjamin wadsworth #mattheoxreader #mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo smut #mattheo riddle smut #mattheo x y/n #angelfrombenethfics

[writesleah]

being mean ✰ m. riddle

➻ pairing: mattheo riddle x fem!reader

➻ genre: pure smut no plot

➻ warnings: 18+, nsfw, SMUT, fingering, degradation, spanking?

➻ a/n: i’m so actually terrified of publishing smut but i really wanted to get out my comfort zone and try it out. this is the first smut i’ve actually sat down and written with the intent to post it so i’m so sorry if it’s a little boring 😞 i’m still trying to get used to writing it without just making it too cringey or self-indulgent. also, please please please let me know if i missed any warnings! still trying to figure out what i do and don’t put in there

thinking about mattheo being extra mean to you when he fucks you one day.

you couldn’t blame him, though you didn’t really want to blame him either. you didn’t mind much. he minded. he had woken up late, draco had been more irritating than usual, and god, don’t get him started on quidditch practice, so of course he was in a bad mood. thank god for you. you, his perfect, innocent little angel who took him oh so well.

in this particular moment, you were laid up against him, your back tight against his chest, his fingers buried deep inside you. it was embarrassing, really, how he managed to pull orgasm after orgasm out of you so quickly, though it’s not like you could help it. he was just too good.

“gonna cum, matty,” you whined, small mewls pulling from your mouth as he repeatedly bullied into that perfect, sensitive spot inside of you.

he let out a small scoff, glaring down at you, “you’re gonna cum? you need to cum?” he pouted mockingly, delivering a harsh smack to your ass, pulling another strained whimper from you. “dirty slut. you better be able to keep going after this. i swear to fuck, if you decide to stop just because you managed to get off...”

there was something strange about the way he said it. maybe it was the way he was mean to you like that, maybe it was the way that you knew he didn’t really mean it. sure, he might be a little irritated if you decided to stop, but he’d never push you.

you couldn’t deny that, even when he was like this, mean and cruel, his eyes a harsh wall, fluctuating between apathetic and angry, you loved it. you loved him.

#fanfic #harry potter #benjamin wadsworth #harry potter fanfiction #hp fanfiction #mattheo x you #mattheo x y/n #mattheo riddle x y/n #mattheo riddle x you #mattheo riddle headcanon #mattheo x reader #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheoxreader #mattheo riddle #mattheo smut #mattheo riddle smut #blurb #drabble

[ggwendolyn]

like animals.

Pairing: Mattheo Riddle x FEM!reader

Warnings: Porn without plot, fingering, oral (f receiving), hair pulling, cum eating, overstimulation, slight orgasm denial, no uses of y/n.

Notes: Based on this req.

“Fuck, Mattyyyy!” You whined, mewls leaving your lips as you cried out choked sobs and hiccups. Mattheo had went down on you a hour ago, and he just couldn't leave your poor, sore cunt alone. He continued lapping at your poor slit nonstop, holding your body still with his strong hands and arms.

“Give me one more, come on.” He said, slurping your juices with excitement. His voice muffled by his whole face being pressed against your pussy.

“Mattheo, stop, please-” You breathed out, hands reaching to yanked at his hair, which instead of stopping him it made him increase the speed of his licking and sucking.

You felt so overstimulated that it started to hurt, but as you felt the knot in your stomach starting to slowly get ready to snap, the pain became pleasure and despair to get that release.

Your fingers slightly started to dig into his scalp, toes curling, back arching, but Mattheo held you in place.

“Fuuck, shitshitshitshit, fuck!” You murmured, babbling incoherent words along with your boyfriend's name. It left your lips like a fucking mantra, like you were praying to your God. And you were, you were praying for him to stop.

“Hold it.” He whispered and blowed into your cunt, making you moan at the soft vibration. And he attacked your sensitive cunt again, toying with your clit between his teeth carefully enough to not hurt you.

You couldn't resist it, hands fisting his hair as you tugged hardly at it, making his head rise up a little. He hissed lowly, and then you realized what you had done.

“Matt, 'm sorry, sorrysorrysorry, I'm so-”

“Yank my hair like that one more time 'nd I won’t touch you for a month.” He cut you off, eyes menacingly piercing holes on your face as you sniffed.

His hands grabbed at the back of your knees, lifting your legs to your ears, pushing you into a mating press as he resumed his assault to your sweet pussy.

The wet muscle of his tongue teased the entrance of your hole as he rubbed his finger down your slick, lubing it up before it made his way into you. His finger eventually became two, curling and scissoring them while he slurped the messy liquid on your clit.

You could start to feel the release you needed build, getting ready to snap in any moment. With a nibble on your puffy bud, you came onto his fingers, you were breathless.

“Fuck...” You murmured, sighing as he sucked on your hole after taking his fingers out it, swallowing your delicious cum down his throat.

“I never told you you could cum, did I?” He chuckled, towering over your tired form and burying his face on your neck, sucking on the spot below your ear.

“I-”

“Don't waste your words, I don't really care about it. I'll do what I have to do with you anyways.”

© ggwendolyn 2024

#mattheo riddle x y/n #mattheo riddle x you #mattheo riddle smut #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle #benjamin wadsworth #harry potter world #harry potter smut #slytherin boys smut #slytherin boys #slytherin #mattheoxreader #mattheo x you #mattheo x y/n

[stqrgirlie0]

‘It’s okay to love them both, I did I do’~ Katherine Pierce Me🙋🏻‍♀️

#i NEED them both🙇‍♀️🧎‍♀️

#benjamin wadsworth #marcus lopez #marcus lopez arguello #marcus lopez x reader #deadly class #marcus lopez smut #marcus lopez x you #slytherin #marcus lopez imagine #slytherin boys #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle #mattheoxreader #mattheo x y/n #mattheo riddle smut #niccolo govender #baby netflix #don lorenzo #lorenzo zurzolo #theodore nott #theodore nott smut #theodore nott x reader #theo nott #theodore nott x you #theodore nott x y/n #theodore nott imagine #theo nott x reader #theo nott smut #theo nott x you #theo nott x y/n

[slytherinslut0]

MATTHEO RIDDLE- Beg For Me

Chapter Seventeen-Info: You and Mattheo have been butting heads for months, since you were assigned as his tutor, and one day during a session full of tense bickering, he has enough.

(This will essentially be a toxic book where we are Theos fucktoy. No love here, very minimal fluff.)

Tags: 18+, DARK THEMES, Sexual Harassment, Asshole!Berkshire, Extreme Depictions of Violence, Blood, SMUT, PIV, Virgin!Reader, Loss of Virginity, Dom!Mattheo, Sub!Reader, Oral Sex, Multiple Orgasm, Dirty Talk, Praise Kink, Degradation Kink.

****FIND THE REST OF THE CHAPTERS HERE.

Emerging from the closet, you and Mattheo shared one more fleetingly charged moment, your eyes locking in a silent exchange laden with unspoken emotions. With a subtle nod, you both returned to your seats, seamlessly slipping back into the roles you had mastered--the poised Ravenclaw and the bad, rebellious Slytherin. The transition was flawless, but beneath the composed exteriors, a storm of emotions raged.

As the game progressed and the night drew on, your eyes locked with Mattheo's from across the circle more times than you could even begin to count--and as the rest of the room remained blissfully unaware, you were acutely attuned to the dance of hidden desires, an intimate connection that thrived in the shadows.

The game of truth or dare continued, growing more wild with each passing round, until most people involved became to tired to continue. In the midst of all of this, Emily and Tom seemed to hit it off, engrossed in their own conversation which seemed to have started before you had even returned from the closet with Mattheo--and as much as the sight was slightly confusing, you were profoundly grateful for the unexpected friendship between them. It undoubtedly relieved the pressure of having to engage with Tom.

As the night wore on, exhaustion settled deep within your bones. Berkshire, thoroughly intoxicated, was gently escorted to his dormitory by Malfoy, his usual disgusting arrogance now replaced by a drunken stumble. Despite the lingering adrenaline from the evening's events, weariness tugged at your limbs, pulling you towards the comfort of your dormitory.

While Emily and Tom remained engrossed in their conversation, you seized the opportunity to excuse yourself quietly. With polite smiles and casual goodnights, you bid farewell to the remaining members of the circle. Each step you took felt heavier than the last, your energy waning with every movement. The echoes of laughter and conversation faded into the distance as you navigated the familiar corridors, the subdued glow of torchlight guiding your way.

Taking a moment to escape the confines of the castle, you stepped into the tranquil courtyard, leaning against the railing and seeking solace under the vast expanse of stars. The night air embraced you, carrying with it a soothing whisper of tranquility. Breathing in deeply, you let the cool breeze wash over you, attempting to shed the lingering tension from your bones after the intense evening you had just endured.

And in the midst of your attempts to find serenity, the peaceful atmosphere shattered like fragile glass, stumbling footsteps making their way toward you. As you glanced over, you watched an inebriated Berkshire stumble his way into the courtyard, bringing himself dangerously close to you, his usual arrogance magnified by the influence of alcohol. His eyes, glazed and unfocused, fixated on you with a disturbing intensity.

"Shit...what do we have here?" he slurred, his words laced with drunken confidence. "A little bird all alone in the night...don't you know it's fuckin' dangerous to be out here all by yourself?"

Your disgust was palpable as you shot him a withering glare. "Save your pathetic lines for someone who cares, Berkshire," you retorted, your voice dripping with disdain. "The only thing dangerous is my dwindling patience at the mere sight of you."

"Why're you such a bitch, huh?" he slurred, his words carrying the stench of alcohol. His proximity was uncomfortably close, his breath hot against your skin. "Must be 'cause you secretly like me, right?"

Your jaw clenched, a mixture of annoyance and disgust bubbling within you. His words were as repugnant as his alcohol-laden breath. The tension you had been trying to relieve was now replaced by a different kind, a sharp pang of frustration at having to deal with his inappropriate behavior.

"I suggest you find your way back to your dorm," you retorted, your voice firm despite the rising irritation. "Your delusions won't make your company any more welcome."

Berkshire's drunken persistence grated on your nerves like nails on a chalkboard, his obnoxious confidence seeming to inflate with every word you uttered. Before you could process it, he closed the distance between you, his movements erratic, invading your personal space. His clammy hand shot up, gripping your jaw with a force that made your teeth clench, forcing your eyes to meet his in a cruel display of dominance.

"Why won't you just admit it, huh?" he slurred, his words punctuated by the reek of alcohol on his breath. His bloodshot eyes bored into yours, his arrogance seemingly impervious to your clear discomfort. "You can't deny the attraction, sweetheart...I see it in the way you look at me when you think no one's watching."

Your patience snapped like a taut rope. Anger flared in your chest, hot and searing. With a swift movement, you pushed his hand away from your face, your voice cutting through the night with icy precision, a steely resolve in your voice that should have been enough to ward off any sane person.

"Let me make this abundantly clear, Berkshire," you said, your tone as sharp as a blade. "There is no secret admiration, no desire, and certainly no fucking attraction. You're nothing more than a nuisance, and I have no patience for your delusions. Now, back the fuck off before you regret testing my tolerance any further."

Despite your unwavering stance, Berkshire's drunken laughter reverberated through the courtyard, a disturbing echo of arrogance undeterred by your resistance. He jeered, taking another step toward you, his movements unsteady but determined. The cold, unforgiving metal of the railing you had been standing in front of pressed into your back as he cornered you, his breath reeking of alcohol and menace.

Panic clawed at your throat, but you refused to show weakness, your eyes meeting his with a defiant glare. "Berkshire, what are you-"

Ignoring your words, he advanced further, backing you up against the railing until there was nowhere left to retreat. Your heart thundered in your chest, the weight of his aggression bearing down on you. And then, in a moment of terror, he grabbed you, his grip surprisingly strong, squeezing tighter than you had ever expected. Your breath caught in your throat as his fingers dug into your arms, pain flaring through your limbs. The situation had escalated far beyond your control, and the realization struck you like a physical blow.

"Let me go," you demanded, your voice strained but resolute, despite the fear tightening your throat. But Berkshire only tightened his grip, his fingers digging into your skin, his drunken gaze wild and unpredictable. "Enzo, fuck, stop..."

"Shut the fuck up," he growled, he breath grazing over your neck as he pressed himself against you. "You're such a fucking-"

Before Berkshire could finish that sentence, a familiar voice--one usually somewhat smooth and composed, cut through the air with a terrifying intensity.

"Berkshire…if you don't get your fucking hands off of her," the threat in his tone was unmistakable, a promise of unspeakable consequences if ignored. "I fucking swear-"

But Berkshire, lost in his drunken rage, remained heedless, his eyes glazed over with a dangerous mixture of anger and entitlement. “Shut up, Riddle…she fucking wants me…”

You caught Mattheo's eyes from over Enzo's shoulder, ones that once held a glimmer of restraint now blazed with an uncontrollable anger that seemed to ignite the air around him. His usual composure shattered, replaced by a raw, primal fury.

In a heartbeat, Mattheo closed the distance between him and Berkshire, his movements fluid and almost supernatural. His hand shot out like a striking serpent, fingers wrapping around Berkshire's throat like an unyielding vice. The grip was tight, a clear message of the danger Berkshire was in.

“I warned you,” he hissed, and with a swift, powerful motion, Mattheo ripped Berkshire off of you, sending him crashing onto the unforgiving stone ground, a stunned gasp escaping his lips upon impact--Mattheo’s throat was shredded with anger as he growled, “I fucking warned you…”

You stood frozen, your lungs burning as you desperately gasped for air, your vision swimming with a heady mix of fear and relief. Mattheo, his eyes ablaze with fury, descended upon Berkshire like a vengeful deity. His arm darted out, fingers clenching Berkshire's collar in one hand while the other transformed into a merciless fist.

“Stay the fuck away from her…you don’t fucking look at her, you don’t even fucking breathe near her…do you fucking understand me?” Mattheo didn’t wait for a response, the first punch landing with a sickening crack, the sound reverberating through the courtyard like a thunderclap. Mattheo jostled Enzo in his grip, practically spitting his words against his face. “No one gets to fucking touch her…no one except me…fucking no one…”

A momentary pause hung in the air, a fleeting heartbeat of stillness, before Mattheo struck again. And again. And again. He was possessed, every punch a release of the pent-up rage that had been simmering beneath the surface, each blow fueled by a primal instinct to protect, to defend, to punish the one who dared to harm you.

Berkshire's face transformed into a grotesque mask of crimson, his features distorted by pain and fear. The courtyard seemed to pulse with the rhythm of Mattheo's anger, the sound of his blows drowned out by the rapid thudding of your heart--and it wasn't until Draco Malfoy, his normally composed demeanor replaced by wide-eyed shock, entered the fray, that Mattheo's onslaught finally came to a halt.

Malfoy, his strength surprising for someone so slender, managed to pull Mattheo off Berkshire, the latter struggling like a wild animal, his rage still burning brightly, his chest heaving with exasperated fury.

"What the fuck happened here?" Theodore dropped to his knees next to his fallen friend, a mixture of concern and disbelief etched on his features as he met your stunned eyes. "Are you okay?"

"I..." you stammered, your voice barely audible, your mind struggling to comprehend the violence that had just unfolded before you. The shock had rendered you speechless, your throat dry and constricted, words caught in the whirlwind of your emotions. "Yes...I'm okay..."

While you attempted to spit out words, Mattheo's heaving form, still seething with raw anger, ripped himself free from Malfoy's hold. With a voice that carried the weight of his fury, he spoke on your behalf, the words sharp and cutting through the air.

"Berkshire thought he could lay his fucking hands on her is what happened," his voice was cold, each word laced with contempt. "After I warned him...I warned him how many fucking times..."

Mattheo's aura, once magnetic and enticing, was now a tempest, an embodiment of wrath that crackled in the air around him. The atmosphere seemed to vibrate with his intensity, as if the very stones beneath your feet could feel his fury. It was a chilling reminder, mostly to you, that beneath the composed facade, there was a force to be reckoned with, a protector who would stop at nothing to shield you from harm--and that thought did inexplicable, disgustingly shameless things to your fucking body.

Draco Malfoy, his usual cool composure momentarily shaken, stepped away from Mattheo, his eyes assessing the situation with a discerning gaze.

"Let's get him to the hospital wing," he suggested to Theodore, his voice cutting through the tension. Nott, too, recognized the need for immediate action, nodding in agreement, before briefly meeting your eyes. "I'm sorry about him...there's no way he hasn't learned his lesson now...fuckin' sorry little prat..."

You nodded in response as the two of them lifted Berkshire, supporting his battered form between them. As they glanced between you and Mattheo, it was as though a silent understanding passed between Draco and Nott. Their glances met, a knowing look shared, acknowledging that there was something more beneath the surface of this situation. They sensed the unspoken connection, the invisible thread that bound you and Mattheo together, but they chose not to pry. Instead, they respected the unspoken boundaries, allowing the complexities of your relationships to remain your own.

Meanwhile, Mattheo turned his attention back to you, his eyes a tumultuous blend of emotions, the storm within him slowly subsiding as he registered the shock lingering in your eyes. With a soft yet determined expression, he stepped closer, his presence becoming a comforting shield against the aftermath of the confrontation that had left both of you shaken.

"Raven, I'm so fucking-" he began, his voice thick with regret and unspoken apologies.

"I'm fine, Mattheo." You cut him off, your heart pounding in your chest, the sight of his breathless, bloodied and dishevelled form doing dangerous things to your cunt--and you knew, more than anything, you just wanted to be alone with him. "Please just take me back to your dorm."

His brows furrowed in confusion, but the desperation in your eyes didn't leave room for questions.

"What-" he started to inquire, but you took a step closer, your neck arching slightly to catch his dark, penetrating gaze.

"Take me back to your dorm," you repeated. "Please."

Upon hearing the raw desperation in your voice, Mattheo nodded, his fingers gently finding yours as he immediately led you down the hall and through the empty corridor to his dorm. The moment he pushed the door open, allowing you to step inside, it felt as though the temperature in the room had increased to a million bloody degrees. The air was thick with unspoken tension, a potent mix of fear, desire, and the undeniable pull that had always existed between you, intensified now by the events of the night.

As you cautiously stepped into his dorm, your eyes were drawn to the familiar sight of the astronomy book lying open on his desk. The memory of the last time you had been in his dorm flashed in your mind--the same book, sitting untouched on his desk, an odd object in the midst of his carefully curated chaos.

"Why do you still have this out?" you questioned, your voice laced with curiosity and a hint of suspicion.

The question hung in the air, laden with unspoken implications. Mattheo hesitated, his stormy eyes locking onto yours in a moment of vulnerability.

"Can't a man indulge in the mysteries of the stars whenever he fancies?" he retorted with a smirk, attempting to deflect the gravity of the situation. His voice carried a hint of playfulness, but the tension beneath the surface was palpable. "Or perhaps stargazing is an art reserved solely for beautiful little ravens, hm?"

"Is it because of me?" Your stare bore into him, a mix of curiosity and suspicion flickering in your eyes. “Is it because of me that you have this book?”

He didn't deny it; instead, after a long, silent moment, he simply nodded, almost impenetrably, his gaze never leaving yours. It was a silent admission, a confession that hung heavy in the charged atmosphere of the room. In that moment, the undeniable pull between you became almost tangible, the invisible thread connecting your hearts growing stronger, defying the boundaries you had desperately tried to impose.

You stepped toward him. "Did you miss me, Mattheo..."

Mattheo met your gaze, his expression enigmatic yet stoic, a mask of his usual arrogance and charm slipping back into place. His silence lingered for a moment, the air thick with unspoken tension.

Then, in a voice that held a depth of emotion he was trying to conceal, he replied, "Maybe I did, Raven..."

You moved closer, the air crackling with need as you closed the distance, your heart pounding in your chest. When you finally stood before him, close enough to feel the heat radiating off his body, you dared to reach out, your fingers brushing against his cheek. His skin was warm, and beneath your touch, you could sense the subtle tremor that betrayed the restraint he was exercising. Your breath caught in your throat as you tilted your head, your lips hovering just millimeters from his.

"Don't be shy, Mattheo..." you murmured, teasing him with your fingers as you trailed over his jawline. "Why don't you show me how much you missed me..."

Mattheo's jaw clenched under your touch, his dark eyes smoldering with an intensity that matched the simmering desire between you. You sighed when his hands, strong and possessive, found their way to your hips, pulling you closer with a magnetic force that left you breathless. His restraint wavered, the barrier between temptation and surrender growing thinner by the second.

"Salazar fucking save me..." Mattheo's voice was a raspy whisper, a plea and a challenge rolled into one, his vulnerability veiled behind a facade of arrogance. "Who the hell are you..."

You leaned in, your lips hovering dangerously close to his, your eyes locking onto his with a daring intensity.

"Sorry to break it to you, Riddle," you purred, your voice a seductive melody that echoed in the charged space between you. "But I'm afraid not even your maker could save you now..." a teasing smile tugged at the corners of your lips, your breath mingling with his. "Better start counting your blessings..."

"Blessings, huh?" Mattheo's lips curved into a half-smirk, his voice low and dangerous, sending a shiver down your spine. "I'd much rather count the seconds until I can taste those sweet fucking lips of yours..."

His words sent a jolt of desire through you, your heart pounding in response to his brazen confidence.

"Gods, you really are a changed man, aren't you?" You murmured, fighting your smirk as his fingers tightened their grip on your hips. "You were never one to wait for permission before..."

"Raven," his voice was a low, raspy whisper, the intensity in his eyes burning brighter. "You're really testing my fucking patience here...and you should know I'm not a patient man..."

Your smirk grew, heat flushing your cheeks, your fingers tracing a tantalizing path along the underside of his jawline, now, teasingly slow.

"Maybe I enjoy testing your limits…maybe I want to see how far I can push you..." you muttered, your voice laced with playful defiance. "Or perhaps I just like watching you squirm, Riddle...perhaps I want to hear you beg for me..."

Mattheo's patience snapped like a taut wire, his eyes narrowing with a mixture of exasperation and desire.

"Look at you, huh...all fucking smug..." he growled, his voice edged with playful frustration as he peered down at you. "You've kept that pussy from me for over two fucking weeks and now you want to tease me like this? Did you forget how bloody fast I can make you crumble for me..."

Your defiant facade began to crack under the intensity of his gaze, a shiver running down your spine.

"Gods, maybe I did..." your voice barely above a whisper, the defiance replaced by a flicker of vulnerability. "Maybe I need you to remind me..."

"Shit...there she is...there's my good fucking girl..." he murmured, his tone a mixture of reverence and desire. "...tell me what you want, Raven..."

A sigh of satisfaction slipped past your lips as his hands tightened their grip, his touch searing into your hips as though he was trying to hang on to his last shreds of willpower. With a trembling voice, you met his dark, penetrating eyes, wetting your lips as you let yourself drown in their depths.

"You," you whispered, your voice a husky admission. "I want you."

He exhaled. "Then fucking have me."

In a whirlwind of desire, his lips crashed onto yours, sending your senses into a frenzy. Your eyelids fluttered shut as both of you inhaled sharply through your noses, trying to catch your breath amidst the electrifying kiss. His hands, strong and possessive, tangled in your hair, pulling you closer with an urgency that matched the racing beat of your heart. Your lips parted in a soft groan of surrender, inviting him in, and his tongue slipped between your teeth with a hunger that bordered on desperation.

His lips moved over yours, claiming every inch as though he needed you to survive, and your fingers found solace in the dark waves of his hair, gripping them tightly. Mattheo responded with a primal sound, a low grunt of satisfaction that resonated between your entwined bodies. With a swift motion, he spun you around, his lips never leaving yours, walking you backwards until the backs of your knees met the edge of his bed. The kiss deepened, his mouth exploring yours with a deliberate slowness, his fingers continuing their sensual dance through your hair, pulling you impossibly closer, melting the space between you.

Mattheo's tongue danced a tantalizing dance inside your mouth before he withdrew, leaving a lingering connection between your lips. In that moment, silence enveloped both of you, rendering you nearly motionless, lost in a whirlwind of emotions, unsure of what to say, think, or do. You felt the undeniable hardness of his arousal pressing against your belly, causing a flicker of anticipation to ignite within you. Your hands instinctively moved towards the hem of your shirt, but he halted you with a gaze as hard as stone.

"No," he said, his voice low and commanding. "Let me."

A flush of scarlet painted your cheeks, but you nodded in silent consent, your throat tight with anticipation. His fingers bunched the fabric of your shirt, lifting it up and off of you. As you raised your arms, granting him permission to undress you further, he completed his task with deliberate care. The fabric landed on the floor with a soft rustle, discarded and forgotten, while his eyes roamed over every newly exposed expanse of your skin.

It was a ritual you knew you’d never tired of, the way he looked at your body as if it was a masterpiece, a gift he hadn't been prepared to receive.

Under the intensity of his gaze, a cascade of warmth flooded through you, your skin tingling with awareness. His hands skillfully moved behind you, unclasping your bra with practiced ease. He pushed it off your shoulders, the fabric gliding down your arms, his fingers skimming over the surface of your skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake.

He paused for a moment, his eyes meeting yours in a silent question, before gracefully sinking to his knees in front of you. His warm breath ghosted over your belly, holding your stare as to ask for permission before he hooked his thumbs under the rim of your pants and panties, peeling them down your thighs, revealing your sensitive sex to him--inch by torturous inch.

A shiver rippled through your nerves, sending a thrill down your spine as his molten-gold eyes held yours with hunger that seemed to consume everything in its path. His gaze didn't waver for a single moment, even as he expertly removed your shoes and tossed them aside carelessly.  As he rose, his palms trailed over the contours of every curve, his touch igniting a trail of electric sensations in their wake. He towered over you, a commanding presence that left you breathless, and one of his hands delicately cupped your face, his thumb tracing the outline of your lower lip with a gentle intensity that sent your heart racing.

"Lie back," he murmured.

Your fingers quivered with anticipation as you nodded, succumbing to the electric tension in the air. Slowly, you eased yourself back onto the mattress, adjusting your position so you could lie flat against the soft bedding.

Mattheo prowled around the perimeter of the bed, his intense gaze scorching your skin, leaving a trail of heat in its wake. Each step he took seemed deliberate, his movements exuding a raw, primal energy. After a moment, he paused, his fingers deftly working on the buttons of his bloodied dress-shirt. With a fluid motion, he peeled off the fabric, revealing the chiseled contours of his chest. His pants followed suit, dropping to the floor until he stood before you in just his boxers.

From this angle, the sight of him made your cheeks flush and your breath hitch in your throat. The raw masculinity and confidence he exuded was both breathtaking and overwhelming, leaving you yearning for more as he loomed over the bed, the outline of his throbbing cock straining the fabric of his boxers doing unspeakable things to your body--the sight of it against the background of hard, tense muscle made you clench, and you bit your lip to hide a moan that was sneaking its way out of your mouth.

And even though you knew he noticed, he said nothing, even as his knee dropped into the mattress, even as he shifted, crawling over you, until he hovered above you, looking more fucking angelic than he ever had before, looking like a man filled with devotion, passion and need.

"Mattheo..." fear was mixing with the pull of lust. You'd never seen him like this. "Matty, I--"

"Shh," he said, pushing a strand of hair away from your temple. "Relax for me, princess..."

You drew in a shaky breath, and nodded--and his lips pressed into yours, plush and wet, before he moved, leading a tingling line of kisses down your cheek, to your jawline, to your neck. Leaning in, he caressed your throat with his warm mouth and you gasped, back arcing into him. In response, Mattheo purred, laying layer after layer of soft, wet marks on your sensitive flesh. One large hand slid down your arm while he kissed his way to your breast, nuzzling his cheek into the valley of your chest before drawing a nipple between his lips.

A cry escaped you, your hips bucking into his abdomen. "Oh, Gods..."

"Shh," he said again. "Relax, angel..."

The nickname he called only made you want to writhe more. Your mind internally fucking screaming with need. Taking a deep breath, you nodded anyway.

"My angel," he repeated, planting slow, soft kisses on your stiffening bud. "My fucking sweet little angel..."

He took your nipple into his mouth again, moaning while he suckled it swollen, his hands painting pleasure on your swathes of naked, aching skin. You whimpered, nibbling on your lip to silence any sound, hands slowly slithering their way through his messy, yet beautiful fucking hair. As you tightened your grip on his strands, a groan slipped past his teeth, and he flicked the tip of your peak with his tongue before releasing it, mouth making a hot trail along your navel, his hands massaging up and down the outside of your thighs.

"You're doing so well," he whispered into your stomach. "You're so fucking beautiful..."

"Matty..." you whined, his words creating a storm of bliss in your chest. You didn't know what else to say.

"Keep being good for me..." he kissed his way to the mound of your pussy, holding a rumble in his chest as his lips grazed the top of your slit. "Are you ready?"

Are you ready? He just fucking asked if you were ready. As you gazed at him, his pink lips glistening with saliva, eyes smoldering with desire, the answer became crystal clear.

"Yes," you said. "Yes, I'm ready."

Without further hesitation, Mattheo lowered his head between your legs, your entire body jolting in pleasure   as he licked a broad, flat band up your sex, feeling your fingers twirling in the curls of his hair. His mouth was hot and eager as he showered your folds with deep, heavy kisses, sending shivers of delight throughout your entire being. Mattheo's hands held your thighs in place as he slicked his strong tongue in between your slit, each touch sending waves of pleasure coursing through your core. Your eyes were fixed upon him, unable to look away from the sight of him worshipping your cunt with his mouth.

"You taste incredible," he cooed, leaving soft kisses along the crease of your thighs. "You know that I thought about this little pussy everyday, don't you?"

Your breath hitched. "Y-you did?"

"Mmhm."

He returned to working his tongue along your inner-folds, gathering your juices along the tip, humming while he swallowed--he was deliberate, taking his time to memorize every bit of your pussy, to draw as much cum from your core as he could. You whined, your clit desperate for attention.

"Matty..." you pleaded, "please..."

Mattheo's gaze met yours as he hummed, sealing his lips around your swollen nub. The intensity of the pleasure collided into you, causing a wracking sob to escape your lips as your eyes closed in ecstasy. His  grip tightened on your thighs, tugging you closer to his face. As he sucked on your clit, he gradually built up the pressure, block by block, pushing you towards the peak of orgasm.

Your hips relentlessly rolled into him, urgent moans filling the air as you fell further and further toward overwhelming bliss. "Fuck, Mattheo...Gods..."

His hands left your thighs, exploring your body, gripping and kneading any inch of flesh they could find, until they finally rested on your breasts, thumbs tracing small, gentle circles on your hardened nipples.

"Oh, fuck," you said, "fuck, fuck..."

As the intensity of your pleasure peaked, any words leaving your lips devolved into incoherent wailing. You teetered on the edge, straining against a wall of unrelenting bliss that threatened to overtake you completely. Then, with two hard sucks, Mattheo eased you over, drawing out your climax long and slow against his mouth. Ecstasy consumed you, numbing your skin as your limbs shook and trembled. Every sensation was intensified as he pulled you through wave after wave of pleasure, groaning as your juices coated his lips, your core throbbing and pulsing at his chin.

It felt like an eternity before he finally released you, dragging his tongue up the top of your slit as he panted and gasped for breath alongside you. The aftermath of your intense orgasm left both of you struggling to regain your senses.

Your head rolled along the mattress, lids fluttering open, hands petting at his hair. "Fuck, Mattheo...that was..."

"Shh." He licked his lips, gaze liquefying your center, and returned his focus to your belly, kissing a steady path to your sternum, his hands still stroking at your skin. "I need you to know how much I missed everything...and I mean fucking everything..."

"Oh," was all that left your mouth, teeth pinching your lip when it began to tremble.

"From your perfect fucking tits to your filthy little mouth..." one hand started to palm at your breast, the other still gliding up your side as he inched forward. "From those delicious fucking thighs to that pretty little pussy..." he was at your neck, now, rasping into it, the heat of his body enveloping you. "Every inch of you is fucking perfect...fuck the drugs Raven, you are my insatiable goddamn addiction..."

Every syllable that escaped his lips seemed to caress your very soul, igniting a wildfire of longing within you. His words were like a spell, weaving around your heart and wrapping you in a cocoon of desire. You craved him in a way that transcended the physical, a hunger that went bone-deep. It wasn't just the touch of his skin against yours that you yearned for; it was the merging of your essence, the melding of your souls into an ethereal dance of passion. You wanted to dissolve the boundaries between you, to lose yourselves in a realm crafted solely for your bodies, where every touch and sigh was a symphony of fervor.

And as you met his gaze, there it was, in his eyes--an unnamed emotion that pulsed between you, an unspoken truth that bound you together in a way words could never encapsulate. It was a force beyond reason, an irresistible pull that drew you closer, time after fucking time again.

"You once called me a plague but fuck...you have no fucking idea..." his voice, raw with desire, clawed its way out of his throat. "I haven't even fucked you, Raven...how the fuck have you done this to me?"

Your heart skipped a beat, fingers instinctively curling in his hair. "Do you want to?..."

Mattheo hesitated, as if time itself hung suspended. His eyes searched your face, seeking the truth in your words, and then, he answered, his voice a low rasp,

"Of course I do..." he breathed. "But after what happened tonight-"

"No," you cut him off, your body moving restlessly beneath his. "After what happened tonight, I only want you more...I've never fucking wanted you so fucking badly, Mattheo...it was you who defended me, not Tom, not Zabini, you...it's always been you..."

Mattheo's jaw tensed, his eyes darkening, his chest heaving. "You want me to fuck you..." he said, as though he was trying to make himself believe it. "You want me to take your virginity..."

You nodded, a silent confirmation of your desire, but Mattheo's fingers found their way to your jaw, his touch surprisingly gentle, yet firm. He held your gaze, his eyes searching yours for any hesitation, any uncertainty.

"Say it, Raven," he murmured, his voice low and commanding. "You know I need to hear you say it. Tell me you want me to take your virginity."

Your breath caught in your throat, his proximity overwhelming your senses. With a shaky inhale, you met his intense gaze, your voice coming out as a mere whisper, "I want you to take my virginity, Mattheo."

"Fucking hell..." he breathed, the desire in his tone making your core scream. "You know that means-"

"I'm yours." You cut him off. "Even though all of this could fuck up my entire future, I don't care...I'm yours...I submit my sanity to the disaster that is sneaking around with you, Mattheo...I don't want the safe option, I don't want soft or subtle...I want dangerous, I want messy, I want sins...I fucking want you..."

"Salazar fucking save me..." he breathed after a long moment of staring at you, shifting himself to pull down his boxers, his throbbing cock springing free, smacking against his belly. "You really are a little fucking devil..."

You clenched at the sight of his dick, head glistening with precum, twitching insistently as he shifted, looping an arm under your neck and cradling your head, his face nestling into your neck while his other hand directed the head of his dick against your wet folds, slicking itself along your wetness, your entire body tensing at the foreign sensation.

He was so fucking big...you weren't sure if, "are you even going to fit...you're so fucking-"

"Shh, Raven." Mattheo huffed against your neck, angling back to meet your eyes, that devilish smirk plastered across his lips. "I'll make it fit."

At his words, you clenched again, unable to deny the intoxication of his primal arrogance, his eyes fixed on your face as he angled himself at your core now, the anticipation radiating off of him only fuelling your hunger, sending thrills through every inch of your body.

"Relax," he breathed, eyes boring into yours, the hand behind your head keeping you in place. "And look at me...I want you looking into my fucking eyes as you feel yourself stretching out for me..."

With a nod, you held his stare, and slowly, deliberately, he pushed himself inside of you, inch by inch, letting you gasp and wince while his thick length stretched you open, until he was fully sheathed within your tightness. The sensation was overwhelming, stretching you to your limit, beyond anything you ever thought possible, and Mattheo only seemed to grow harder with each gasp that left your lips. With him completely seated inside of your cunt, you felt him pulsing at the hilt, felt his already urgent need to cum inside of you. But instead of moving right away, he jerked you closer to his chest, his lips softly grazing yours as he brought his hand to cup your jaw.

"Are you okay?" His voice was torn, shredded, nearly unrecognizable.

You nodded, holding his eyes. "I'm okay."

"Shit, Raven..." a deep groan left his chest as he exhaled, pulling out and plunging back in as slowly and carefully as he had the first time. "You're so fucking tight...fuck..."

You mewled--between the passion in your chest and the newfound sensations between your legs, your head was spinning, something was close to bursting. His skin was so hot against you, and you gripped him tighter, another moan leaving your chest, chin shaking beyond your control, the pleasure and pain commingling in your mind as you surrendered to his skilled touch--Mattheo stared at you through it all with gleaming eyes before he smothered your lips with a kiss, burning and short.

"Is this what you wanted?" The low thunder of his voice melted in your ears, and he murmured your name. "Tell me..."

Your fingers dug into his skin, your voice torn between gasps. "Yes, Mattheo..." you mewled. "It's all I've wanted."

He leaned forward, lips feathersoft on yours, kissing you, still easing his cock into you with careful rolls of his hips. The grip at your head soothed your scalp--and you could feel it, could feel yourself blending with his body as he pushed deeper and deeper inside of you, could feel your pulses pounding in pace, could feel the unspoken, intangible harmony coiling in your blood.

"Who else can make you feel like this, hm?" His embrace constricted you, now, stilling you while he rocked deep into you, stuffing you full, his free hand travelling down your belly, grazing over your clit--and you choked, whimpered, limp in his arms. "Tell me who this tight little pussy fucking belongs to..."

The pleasure was overwhelming, earth shattering, entirely all encompassing. Your lids fluttered, your brain spinning. "Oh, Gods...oh my fucking-"

"Look at me, Raven..." he ordered, voice torn. "Look at me or I'll stop."

Reluctantly, you opened your eyes, nails biting into his skin, heart pounding in your throat as you felt your sanity dangerously fucking close to shattering, your entire body encompassed in a pleasure that you've never known, a pleasure that only Mattheo fucking Riddle could give you, one that burns you from the inside out, one that shatters every inch of your resolve, leaving you bare before him.

"Tell me..." he whispered, his fingers twirling your clit. You could tell he was close, too. "Fuck...fucking say it…”

"You," you mewled, lost in the melted chocolate swirls of his irises. "It fucking belongs to you, Mattheo...fuck...only you..."

"Shit..." he groaned your name, sucking at your shoulder, tongue leaving hot lines on your neck. "You love being dirty for me..." his fingers whirled your clit faster. "You love being my nasty little slut, don't you?"

"Yes, yes, Mattheo..." you wailed, body trembling beneath him. "I love it..."

"Fuck--" A feral kiss bruised your lips, his cock splitting you with long thrusts. "That's it..." he muttered your name against your mouth. "Cum--cum for me, let me feel you..."

You shattered. "Gods--Matty! Fuck..."

Euphoria rended you wide, tearing at the seams of your sanity, and you fractured, convulsing with the sheer strength of your climax. Your walls spasmed around his dick, milking him hard, and Mattheo held you, mouth meeting yours as he came, hips hitting you with every rush of rapture as he quickly followed after you, spilling his release inside your cunt. This seemed to last for minutes, the aftershocks of bliss rippling through your bodies at once while you remained there catching breath, still connected.

You were wilted, spent, a collection of skin and cum and sweat, and when Mattheo finally pulled out, he slumped down on the mattress beside you, pulling you back into his chest, nothing but the collective sounds of your exhausted panting filling the air, neither of you willing to move even though you knew you couldn't stay here all night--but your drooping lids didn't care, your body succumbing to slumber without giving you a choice.

And as you drifted off, you couldn’t help but question how a boy who once had been the bane of your fucking existence, had now become the centre of it.

———————-

Find eighteen here->

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[writingsbychlo]

WHITE XMAS | mattheo riddle

summary; mattheo comes to spend christmas with you and your family.

word count; 15,245

notes; I have never played chess in my life, chess girlies don't come for me. pic was made by @finalgirllx!

“So, Matty, what are your Christmas plans?” You murmur, head bopping lightly to the beat of the tacky Christmas CD that was playing over the Common Room speakers. “Will Tom be coming home for Christmas?”

“Are you kidding?” Mattheo muttered, cursing as he readjusted his grip on the dwindling charcoal in his fingers once again, peeking another glance over the edge of his tatty sketchpad to you. “Why would he?”

“Because it’s nice! It’s Christmas, it’s a time for family to come together.”

“Not mine.” He blew a curl from his eyes, pausing. Tilting his head, he narrowed his eyes as his gaze flickered between the page, and a very specific spot on your shoulder. “Tom has escaped, he doesn’t have to come home for the annual Riddle-family Christmas Horror Show.”

That brought a frown to your lips, and he tutted. “Keep smiling.”

“You’re not even drawing my face right now.” You snipped back, and the edges of his lips tipped up in a smirk, focusing as he dragged the tool in his hand over the paper, back and forth. Soft scraping filled the room, along with the general chatter of the few other students dotted throughout the room, background noise with their undecipherable muttering and the music. “You don’t like Christmas?”

“Why would I? Christmas magic never existed for me. The very day I first asked about Santa, Tom pulled me aside and told me he wasn’t real. Warned me not to ask about him.” With a sigh, he dropped the notepad to sit flat in his lap, resting the charcoal on the side table, and shrugging. When he wiped his forehead, he unknowingly left a smear of grey over his skin. “I was stupid, and four. I asked my father, and he laughed at me and told me not to be pathetic. Everything I got in this world was hard-earned, and came by his generosity, and his alone.” 

“Matty…”

“Don’t pity me. Can’t love what I never had.” Despite his brave words, there was an underlying emptiness to his voice, the kind that formed over years of hurt finally losing its bite. The way scarred flesh didn’t hurt, but they never stitched up quite right. 

You whisper, standing up and making your way over to him. He looked up at you now as you stood before him, hand raising to wipe the smudge away with your thumb. “It’s that bad?”

He only hummed. “I get to parade around, playing the ‘seen but not heard’ son as my father cashes in on a big business day. It’s such a great time to ‘make connections’. Normally I’d have Tom with me, and we’d spend the days counting down until my birthday, and his. On the 30th, we’d sneak out and get two cupcakes, right between. He’ll be back for New Year's, my father is making him, but I can’t begrudge him staying away for Christmas.”

“You make me so sad sometimes.”

“Can’t have that, can we?” He murmured, leaning up to pinch at your waist lightly, a spot he knew was ticklish. You jerked away from him with a gasp of a laugh, smacking his hand as you went. “Don’t worry. I’ll be at the Malfoy Christmas Eve Ball. I’ll see you all then, I can look forward to it.”

“No.”

“No?” He echoed, a smile forming on his face, and he tugged you in closer, arms wrapping around your thighs. “The fuck do you mean no?”

“I mean, that won’t do. Your Christmas plans make me want to commit a festive crime. Hit your dad with a sleigh, or something.” That brought real laughter from him, a loud burst, his eyes closing a little as he rested his forehead on your stomach, his shoulders shaking. “I have a big family Christmas. All my aunts and uncles and cousins and their kids. There’s going to be at least twenty of us.”

“Now you’re just rubbing it in.” He muttered, shaking his head, frowning up at you falsely. 

“No, I’m inviting you, if you’d let me finish.”

His expression shifted then, from teasing and humour to vulnerability and disbelief. Pretty brown eyes shone with shock as he stared up at you. Cupping his jaw, you smoothed your thumb along his cheek. “You’re what?”

“Come with me for Christmas Day, Matty. I cannot, in good conscience, enjoy my day, knowing how you’re spending yours.”

“You really want that? Your family wouldn't mind?” Hope raised in his voice, not a hint of denial in sight, and he smiled shakily when you nodded. 

“What are friends for, huh? I promise it’ll be okay. My parents are a ‘the more, the merrier’, type.” He ran his tongue over his bottom lip, thoughts spinning in his gaze, before he pulled you even closer. Pressing his face against your stomach, your hands slipped to his hair instead, running through the curls. It was the same way you did whenever you stumbled across him smoking after a nightmare, or sulking after a letter from home. “We have a floo. You can step right in. I promise, you’d be welcome. Please spend Christmas with me, Mattheo.”

“Okay.” He mumbled, breath hot against your navel through your shirt as he breathed the word against you. 

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” He finally turned his head again, resting his cheek there instead, looking away toward the fireplace, throat bobbing. With a final squeeze, he loosened his hold. “I’d really like that.”

“I’ll write down my address for you, and give you all the details.” Leaning down, you pressed a kiss to his messy hair, and he was smiling faintly as you pulled away. “It’ll be great, I promise.”

“I don’t doubt.” Finally, he let go of you fully, and took a bracing breath. Resetting himself, he schooled his features, picking up his sketchpad again and diverting his gaze to it. “Alright, go sit back down. Try and remember your pose, I want to finish this before dinner.”

Rubbing at your eyes tiredly, you were never awake this early, even the children were still snoozing, only one or two other members of your family had woken. Your father had always been an early bird, forcing your mother to be the same, and the two were tinkering in the kitchen, quietly chatting. 

One of your grandmas had woken, made her way downstairs, and promptly fallen asleep in the rocking chair next to the fireplace after lighting it with a flick of her wrist. You were sure one of your uncles— maybe a cousin, too— had been wandering upstairs, but perhaps, they’d gone back to bed.

Suppressing a yawn, you jumped when the soft pop of the fireplace sounded, flames changing momentarily from amber and orange to a truly festive shade of green. Stumbling through it was Mattheo. 

He didn’t look nearly as tired as you did. More so, he looked alert, in every sense of the word. His eyes were wide, one hand clenched into a tight fist around a bouquet of poor flowers, the other tugging nervously at his collar. He was wearing a red Christmas jumper, a set of tasteful white snowflakes sewn in a band across the chest. His usual black jeans, the best pair he had, seeing as they had no tears or frays, and white sneakers that had been polished to a shine. Possibly, never even worn outside. 

“Matty.” You mumbled, and he stepped down from the warmth of the fireplace as the flames flickered back to normal, your grandma merely offering a soft snore beside you both. Mattheo flinched again, like one of Theo’s pranks when he jumped out from behind doorways to scare you all in the dark, and you raised a brow. “You’re up early. Therefore, you naturally called me and woke me up early too.”

“Sorry. I had… restless sleep. I was anxious.” 

“Aw,” You smiled, reaching out to pinch his cheek. “You’re all excited like… oh. Well, like a kid on Christmas Day. Huh.” The joke washed over you in waves, still not quite awake enough to be aware of your own words, and he gave you a flat look. “Cute sweater.”

“I just bought it.”

“Why?” You smiled, and his lips twisted like you’d asked a stupid question. He followed you as you guided him from the lounge to the hall, shuffling behind you quickly. “Because you said you would be wearing one!”

“You didn’t have to buy a—” Your words shuttered as his lips smoothed back out, face neutral, but a flicker of uncertainty passed through his eyes. Mattheo didn’t own a Christmas jumper. It made sense, he’d never had reason to, but it didn’t stop your heart from breaking a little. “Come on. Take off your shoes, and let’s go get something to drink. Maybe a really strong coffee, hm?”

He toed off his shoes, neatly stacking them onto the rack beside the various others, some left in a pile. It wasn’t like him, Mattheo left his things everywhere; the group was always picking up after him, but it was clear that he was doing the most to be on his very best behaviour.

Taking his free hand in both of your own, you squeezed it, bringing his attention to you. “Mattheo?”

He hummed, tugging at his collar as he stared beyond you to his reflection in the hallway mirror. Smoothing your hands over his shirt, you patted it down, his eyes dropping to you as you pushed his hand away. 

“Mattheo. You’re worrying. You’re supposed to be here to have fun, not be the picture-perfect son like you would at home.” His lips pressed together, like he didn’t believe you, as he sighed through his nose. “You’re perfect just as you are, okay? You don’t need to worry. Everyone knows you’re coming, and they know who you are. I’ve been writing about you all in my letters home for years. Your name isn’t a surprise, and you’re welcome here. Okay?”

“You’re sure?”

“Mattheo Riddle, have I ever lied to you?” Your teasing finally brought a smile to his face. “Have I ever given you a reason not to believe me?”

“No.” He finally conceded. 

“Then trust me, hm?”

He rolled his eyes, but his shoulders dropped. With one final glance at his reflection, he turned away, closing the page on those fears and ready to proceed with the day. After only a second of hesitation, he took your hand, squeezing for comfort as you guided him back through the house. 

His fingers flexed around your own as you approached the kitchen, your mother laughing gently at some joke your father had told. Both of them turned to face you as you stepped in, tugging Mattheo behind you. 

“Mama, Dad, my friend is here. This is Mattheo.”

Shaking his hand free from your own, he smoothed his palm over his jeans before shakily stepping forward and offering his hand. Your mother only smiled as your father shook it firmly. “Good to meet you, our daughter writes about you in her letters a lot.”

“Dad.”

“Oh, it’s true! More than almost anyone else.” Your mother cooed, your exasperated sigh doing nothing to dull their teasing as your mother only pinched his cheek instead of taking his offered hand. “Oh, you’re so tall! She never mentioned that.”

“Mama, stop teasing him!”

“I’m doing no such thing!” She scolded you, tutting as she peered over his shoulder. “It’s good to find a tall man. Like your father, they can reach the fresh stuff on the storage shelves that they don’t want you to get at when you go to the store.”

“Oh, is that all?” You muttered, crossing your arms as she went back to fussing over Mattheo. Your father rolled his eyes, sipping from his ‘World’s Best Daddy’ mug that you’d made when you were five. He saved it for every Christmas Day, like tradition. 

“These are for you, Mrs—”

“Oh!” Your mother took the bouquet, admiring them, and not even seeming to notice the slightly crumpled stems that had been his substitute stress-ball. “They’re beautiful, look at them.”

She presented them to your father, who nodded approvingly, and Mattheo turned just long enough to glance over his shoulder. He was bewildered, and red-cheeked. 

“Alright, have I sufficiently embarrassed you dear, or should I keep going? I haven’t even told you what a handsome young man he is yet—”

“Oh, I think you’ve done plenty.” Your droll tone made your parents snicker to one another, and she turned away to put the flowers in a vase. Reaching forward and grabbing a fistful of Mattheo’s jumper, you tugged him back to your side. “Is anyone else awake yet?”

“Only your grandma.”

You made a noise of agreement, grateful for the early rise if it meant being able to ease Mattheo into the crazy rush. Leaving his side for just a moment, you took two mugs from the cupboard, your early call also meaning you got the first pick, choosing the best ones and setting them out. Claimed, for the day. 

Your mother arranged her gift, showing them off proudly before disappearing to the dining room to find a spot for them on the table. Your father followed, and only a moment later, Mattheo was sidling up close to your side as you worked. 

“How’re you holding up so far?” You smirked, and he shook his head, a chuckle tumbling quietly from his lips. 

“I think if all your family react like that to me, I have nothing to worry about.”

“Why wouldn't they?” You didn’t give him a chance to disagree, stirring the hot drinks before you and tapping the spoon on the rim. “There’s nothing wrong with you, Mattheo.”

“Some people would disagree.”

“Some people also like pickles.” Your nose scrunched up, and you sought out the pot beside the biscuits, popping the lid and sprinkling some marshmallows onto the steaming surface of each one. “Clearly, their decisions can’t be trusted.”

Turning to him and pushing a mug over the counter, he scoffed. Leaning down until your noses were almost brushing, he smirked. “I like pickles.”

“You’re gross. I’ve seen you drink from a random cup the morning after a party.” Taking your mug, you turned away from him, leaving him spluttering behind you as he grabbed his own and followed. 

“First of all, that was one time. Secondly, I knew it was my drink! I’m the one who left it there!”

“Uh-huh.” He pinched at your hip in response falling back into step beside you, and allowing himself to be led into the snug. Smaller, cosier, with only one couch and two worn armchairs, it was one of your favourite rooms in the house. A wobbly bookshelf stood in the corner, and a chessboard sat out before you on the coffee table, a freshly reset game. The rest of the board games were stacked on a shelf. “Wanna’ talk about how the day will go? Put any last fears to rest.”

He glanced up, running his finger over the Queen on the board as he sat down, nodding, thankfully. “I’d like that.”

Settling onto a cushion on the floor instead, on the other side, you turned the board around. Picking up a pawn, you made your first move, and a spark went off in his eyes. “We’ll start with breakfast, when everyone wakes up. Mum loves making a big breakfast, she’s a breakfast foods kind of person. There’s a lot of stuff, a lot in the fridge. It’ll remind you of Hogwarts, but better.”

He smiled at that, picking up a pawn himself and shifting it across, playing the board as he waited to see what moves you’d make. Mattheo was surprisingly patient, and good at playing the long game. He never made a real move until there was more going on across the board. 

“Then, we’ll open gifts. The kids will be desperate by then, so we’ll all cram into the sitting room. If we’re lucky, we’ll be able to pinch a proper seat.” You shrugged, fingers brushing over your pieces, before plucking one up and making your next move. “After that, we do some baking. We’ll make things for dessert, as well as treats to have throughout the day. My mum has a big flow chart of all the cooking for the meal, most stuff we prepared over the last few days, but it all gets heated up and cooked after that.”

“Lot of kitchen work.”

“Oh, yes. Traditionally, all the ladies will do the cooking, and we leave all the washing up and cleaning for the men.” You gave him a wink, watching him play the board while grinning. 

“Christmas Day chores, what a treat.”

“While food cooks, they’ll be… something. Maybe movies, I think one of my uncles put a quiz together, so maybe that. Something fun. Then we’ll eat.” You found yourself stuck already, watching as he already managed to be pinning you down across the checkerboard. You considered your play for a while, and he sipped at his hot chocolate, a pleased noise on his lips as he licked foam from his top lip. “Then…”

“Then?” He said, and finally, you decided what to do, shifting to knock down one of his pieces and snatch it up with a smirk. That smirk didn’t last long, not as you saw his expression. Like you’d fallen right into his trap. He moved quickly, striking like a viper as he swiped up without consideration, and you swore as he took a piece in return. 

“Then… I don’t know. The rest of the day is mostly lazing around, letting the food settle, eating more food…”

“Can’t wait.” He whispered, and the moment you made your next play, he was grinning over the rim of his mug. He crossed the board, knocking down your Queen, and beaming as you scowled. “Checkmate.”

“Fuck you.”

“You lasted longer this time. That was, what, twelve moves? I’m impressed.”

“Bite me.” You scoffed, and he flashed his teeth, snapping them in a bite playfully, and you stuck out your tongue. 

“Don’t be a sore loser.” Mattheo taunted.

“Didn’t you once punch MacLaggen after a Quidditch match because—”

“You be quiet or I’ll come over there and make you be quiet.” As his eyes shone with mirth, you flipped him off, gulping at your hot chocolate and letting the half-melted, gooey marshmallows sit on your tongue. “Much better.”

“I don’t like you.”

“Oh, now, don’t believe a word she says.” You jumped, turning to the doorway as your cousin poked her head through, and Mattheo stiffened instantly. “She told me she wished I fell off my broom last year, just because I won the little toy inside the last Christmas cracker.”

“Jess!” You beam, lighting up a little as she stepped into the room, her youngest following her inside. The girl who came behind her was only two, still dressed in her striped pyjamas, eyes half open and curls pressed from the side she’s slept on. “Mattheo, meet my least favourite cousin.”

“Now, now. That’s just rude.” She beamed, letting go of her daughter's hand as the youngest began to toddle over towards you on shaky little stomps, letting you scoop her up and place a big kiss on her cheek. As you fawned over her child, Jess reached out, shaking Mattheo’s hand as he sat nervously. “Nice to meet you, Mattheo. I’ve heard a lot about you. Better than the Italian one, that’s for sure.”

“You’ve met Theo?” His shock was evident. Jess scoffed while you just laughed and tickled your baby cousin’s stomach. 

“Once, at family week. He happened to bump into us at Hogsmeade. Terrible flirt, isn’t he?”

“You were knocked up at the time, too.” You snickered, and she looked fondly at her daughter. 

“Oh, that didn’t stop him.” 

“Sounds like our Notty-boy,” Mattheo whispered, turning to look at you. When the girl on your knee looked up at him curiously, he wiggled his fingers, “Hello there.”

She only giggled, turning away to hide her face in your neck. 

“You two coming out for breakfast?” Jess sighed, calling her daughter back to her side as you put her down, and she scooped the girl up onto her hip. She turned to Mattheo, mischief written onto her features, “There are some people who want to meet you.”

Standing up and brushing off dirt from the floor, he followed suit, your cousin leaving ahead of you both. Taking your mug in one hand, Mattheo ruffled his hair in the other, patting down the untamed stands. 

“What are you— stop doing that.” Grabbing his arm, you didn’t fail to notice the light tremors from his nerves. “You’re squashing all your curls.”

“I should’ve styled my hair this morning. Your family will think I’m a mess.”

“It’s Christmas Day, and you woke me up before I could even wash my face. Trust me, you’re fine.” He only frowned, reaching his hand up towards his hair again, and you pulled it down. Running your hands down his arm, you clasped his hands, reassuringly. His fingers folded around your palm in return. “Ruining your pretty hair won’t make them like you any more, but it’ll make me like you less!”

“You think my curls are pretty?” 

Heat flushed your cheeks as he stared at you, curious. He’d always been so pretty, and it never failed to astonish you how all your favourite parts of him were the parts he disliked the most. “Shut up.”

His lips twitched, but he refrained from replying, glancing at the door instead. In a bold move, he took a step toward it, evidently deciding he was ready, as he guided you both out of the room and toward the growing bustle of voices.

Only moments after you emerged, he was swept into the craziness; aunties and uncles and cousins descending on him, all asking a thousand questions a minute. They wanted to know about classes, and where his jumper was from, and if he preferred roast beef or roast turkey. He was taken from you, leaving you to hold both mugs and chuckle at the flustered look on his face. 

By the time you’d refilled them both and returned to the pandemonium, he sagged with relief upon seeing you. Kids were already mithering about opening presents, raving madly about Santa, and he was able to slip away from the hustle and back to you. 

“Before you chastise me for leaving you,” You pressed the mug into his hands the moment his jaw dropped, pre-empting his words, “I refilled your hot chocolate. I stood no chance, they’re animals, and you were the newest squeaky toy. Luckily, the young have saved you, by nagging about the presents.”

“I’ll let you out of it this time.” He shook his head, serious like he was really mad, even as he leaned in to kiss your temple. His mouth moved to your ear, “Your family are very friendly.”

“They were excited to meet you. You’re fresh meat. How are you at pub quizzes? Because they’ll be all over you.”

He chuckled, and before he could say anything else, your mother was making the call to start cooking breakfast. Just like that, the room seemed to clear of men, all of them slipping away at the word ‘cooking’, taking the kids with them. Only the grandparents were left in the living room, excused from all chores, naturally. 

“You can go with the other men if you’d like.”

“I’d rather stay and cook with you… is that okay?” He glanced towards the kitchen, and smiled when you nodded. 

“Course you can. Come on.” Leading him to the kitchen, your aunts and cousins were already bustling around, working wherever your mother assigned them to. Your mother snapped her fingers to you, pointing towards the griddle that was heating up, all the ingredients for fluffy pancakes laid out alongside. 

Guiding Mattheo over to it after washing your hands, his cheeks went red as he stood before the bowl. “I, uh, maybe didn’t think this through. I don’t know how to cook.” He whispered, embarrassment tinging his voice as everyone around you both seemed to be getting on at speeds. 

“That’s okay, why don’t you mix the batter while I add the ingredients, hm?”

That brought his sweet expression back, letting out the breath he was clinging to, and pulling the bowl towards himself. You added each ingredient, weighing them up and measuring them out as he stirred the bowl continuously, switching between arms as he tired. On and on you went, until you had enough butter to make pancakes for an army, and he was eating leftover chocolate chips from the bag while you greased the griddle pan. 

He was watching eagerly as your cousin Ki grilled bacon, stacking up a pile that had his entire attention. 

“Mattheo, dear, do you want a piece of bacon?” Your mother snapped him from his dazed watch, and his jaw dropped open, the tips of his ears going red. 

You snickered, nudging him where he stood beside you, still clutching the bowlful of batter. With a shy nod, his mother picked up a piece handing it to him with a wink, and he beamed upon receiving it. 

Tearing off a chunk with his teeth and chewing, he turned to face you, leaning down to whisper in your ear, “I think your mother likes me.”

“I told you she would.” You said, a happy sound leaving him at the confirmation. Once the tray was ready, you grabbed for a ladle, and he held the bowl securely, the two of you working to set off the first batch of pancakes to cook. He shuffled every step with you, and while they cooked, you began to work on the second batter batch. “You want to try this time? I can help you.”

“Alright.” He nodded, setting the bowl back on the scale like he’d seen you start with. Scanning his hands over the ingredients, he reached for the flour first, holding it up in question. Sieving it through until you told him to stop, he smiled to himself as he watched the dust fall perfectly. A sprinkle of sugar, and a dash of vanilla essence, and then he circled in the centre with a spoon to create a well. 

“Alright, make sure you tap it lightly on the edge. You don’t want bits of shells in the food.”

He was so focused it was almost adorable, your heart skipping a beat as you watched him go, tapping the egg on the bowl so delicately your heart ached. “Like that?”

“Maybe a little harder.”

And then, he cracked it down with another force that the rim of the bowl went halfway through the egg, mangling the whites and the yolks, with splinters of shells going into the food. “Shit. I’m sorry.”

“S’okay, we can just pick the shell out and try again. Don’t worry.”

Dipping your fingers into the flour to pick out the pieces of shell, you discarded the broken egg to the side, and he helped fish out all the pieces, meticulously checking there was none left. Handing him a new egg, he eyed his cautiously now. 

“C’mere, let me show you.”

Guiding your hand down his arm to cup over his, you guided his hand down with the right amount of pressure, cracking the egg enough to slip your nails in and pull it apart. Taking his other hand too, you huddled in close, your hands over his by the bowl as the pair of you pressed to one another, pulling the egg apart and letting it fall into the well. 

“Perfect, see. You’re a natural.”

He turned to look down at you, eyes scanning over your face, a silent moment you didn’t know how to read, before he was turning back to it. You helped him with the second one, and then he did the third and fourth alone, cheering with so much enthusiasm about it that several of your relatives celebrated with him. 

He whisked the batter up, flipping the ones already cooking, and stacking them up on a plate before ladling out the batter he’d made. By the time they were finished, he was so eager to try the first thing he’d ever cooked that he almost burned his fingers as he snatched one up. Blowing on it hastily, he took a large bite, huffing some further breaths to cool it down. 

“So good.” He groaned, taking another large bite. Following as you took the plate to the dining table, lots of food was already laid out, your grandparents beginning to pile up their plates, and parents dishing up for their kids. 

“Sit down, get some of your pancakes while they’re still hot and there’s still some there.”

He didn’t need to be told twice, sinking into a seat and grabbing for a plate. You sat with him, and soon, the whole family was gathered around, filling plates and chatting happily as the sleepiness wore away and the festive excitement settled in. 

Chatter went on around you both as Mattheo gave it his best go to eat his body weight in bacon and pancakes, only pausing when you reminded him that there was still plenty of food left to go over the course of the day. He was happy to sit and listen to the conversation going on around him, but when the attention turned to him, he stuttered over his words. 

He was nervous to answer any questions that came to him, your hand sliding into his under the table and pulling it onto his lap. It took him several questions to realise that they weren’t bothered by his family name. In fact, nobody asked him about his father, or his mother. He had one question about Tom, but only with respect to him being a brother, not a Riddle.

When this realisation washed over him, the way he lit up was obvious. Nervous responses became animated ramblings, talking with excitement and purpose as he responded to every attempt anyone made to get to know him. 

He admitted to your Uncle Jamie that, no, he’d never been fishing. Your father asked him about his grades at school, and your mother berated him, before asking Mattheo about his favourite classes instead. Your Auntie Sally told him all about how she had been sorted in Gryffindor while her brother Steven had been Slytherin. They had epic battles on the Quidditch pitch, no pulled punches, and wondered if that rivalry still lasted. Your Uncle Steven asked him what his hobbies were, and he shyly admitted how much he loved art, which led to your grandad waking back up from his dozing just in time to start telling the same old story about the two-month spell he’d spent as a police sketch artist in the fifties.

He seemed more than happy to talk, settling into the dynamic of the room, and you took your plate to the kitchen, tidying it away. With a kiss on his cheek, you let Mattheo know you were finally going to change.

By the time you stepped back into the room fifteen minutes later, the children were frantically tugging at their adult’s arms to go back through for gifts, the sugar rush starting to kick in. Mattheo was helping to gather dishes away, arms out as your Auntie Sally piled plates and bowls into his arms, his eyes wide as she spoke to him about something. 

You followed them through to the kitchen, not failing to miss the occasional drop of your name in the conversation, clearing your throat dramatically and stealing the spotlight. Your Aunt only grinned over her shoulder conspiratorially, unstacking the dirty dishes from Mattheo’s arms into the soapy water of the sink. Mattheo, however, sagged with relief as you appeared. The moment his arms were clear, he was sweeping back over to you, taking a handful of your Christmas jumper and tugging you to his side. 

You stumbled along after him out of the room. “The second you left the room, they were all over me. What are my intentions, what are my feelings, when will I ask you out—” His voice hit a shrill note, and you chuckled, unclenching his hand from the material of your sweater. 

“I made it very clear to them before today that we weren’t dating. You don’t need to worry about that, they’re just messing with you.”

“I wasn’t— I wasn’t worried, so much as intimidated! They’re scary people.”

“Are you trying to imply I’m not scary?” You tease, taking the edge off of his nerves as he rolled his eyes, focusing on that instead of the conversation you’d just freed him from. 

“Oh, I’ve seen you in action. You’re terrifying when you want to be.” He muttered, leaning down to rest his forehead on your own, voice dropping low. “I don’t think I’ll ever forget the way Draco screamed when you filled his bed with grass snakes.”

“Yes, well, perhaps that’ll teach him not to steal my skin products just because his own ran out.”

“Come on, you two. Presents time.” Sally emerged from the kitchen, clapping her hands and smirking, and you groaned. Taking Mattheo’s hand and guiding him through to the living room, you snatched up a seat on one of the sofas quickly, Mattheo squeezing in beside you. 

Children were already tearing into their presents, ribbons and bows and paper were already scattered around the room in a messy storm. Your mother pottered through with a tray of mugs, your father following, and you smiled gratefully as she passed you a mug of herbal tea. 

As the mayhem went on, Mattheo settled back into the sofa, tugging your wrist closer to himself and sniffling the contents of your mug before taking a sip. He was perfectly happy to sit back and watch gifts be opened, to gather wrapping paper from your presents onto his lap and scrunch them up into balls. 

Until one of the toddlers, Elliot, pulled out a gift from under the tree and flipped the label over. He struggled over it for a while, sounding out the sounds he could see written down. “Math..ee. Matt-ee-oo.” He mouthed around the word as Mattheo stiffened beside you. “Matthew.”

His head snapped up, looking straight to Mattheo as his mother corrected him softly, lowering her camera from filming him and pointing. Elliot carried the gift over, placing it into Mattheo’s hands, before dashing back to the tree to search for more gifts of his own. 

Mattheo smoothed his fingers over the paper and ribbon, flipping the tag over to be sure, as if he didn’t quite believe it. Your handwriting neatly scrawled his name on the paper, and his eyes flickered up to you. “You did this?”

“Mhm. Open it.”

You pulled up your legs, tucking them underneath yourself and watching excitedly as he ran he tugged at the bow. Undoing the ribbon, he curled it up carefully, setting it aside next to his leg and flipping it over. Running his fingers over the edges, on the left side, they bumped along, and a smile cracked on his face. He repeated the motion, feeling more firmly through the wrapping. “Is this was I think it is?”

“Open it and find out.” You poked him with your toes, and he pushed his fingers under the folds of the paper, opening the seals and tearing it away from what was inside. He stared at it once it was free, fingers dusting across the ornate cover, flipping it open to look through the blank pages, to admire the paper quality. 

“You got me a new sketchbook?”

“Hm. Not just any sketchbook, though. It’s an enchanted one. It’ll never run out of blank pages.” His jaw dropped, turning back to look at it. 

“I’ve never— I didn’t even know such a thing existed. Where did you get it?”

“An art store, at Diagon Alley. I was just going to get you a regular one, but then I found this.” You shrugged, and his eyes were glistening when he looked up again. 

“I love it. Thank you.” He clutched it to his chest, never looking away, not hiding his emotions this time even as his nose scrunched up a little and he sniffed. The busy noise and action went on around you both, but as he stretched on hand out to squeeze yours, it was like the two of you were all alone. Emotion clogged in your throat, your chest ached for him, such a visceral reaction to such a small gift. Tipping your head toward the tree, you laughed lightly. “There’s a couple more over there for you.”

“What?” His voice was shaky, glancing at the Christmas tree as some of the others gathered around it now, the children done and satisfied as they began to pay with all their new toys amongst the mess. 

“Go on, go and get involved.” When he hesitated, a smile breaking free on his face, you encouraged him again, and he took a seat beside your mother by the tree, one more look back at you before beginning to search for the ones with his name on in the pile. 

You opened and smiled at the gifts you were handed, grateful for them all as your family passed presents around, but you were distracted. 

Distracted, watching the joy on Mattheo’s face as he opened another present, looking up at you as he opened a new set of colourful quills and chalks, the blush on his face when he unwrapped an ornament with ‘Baby Boy’s First Christmas’ written on. He glared at you with red cheeks, but held it carefully, and searched for a spot to hang it on the tree at your mother’s insistence. Distracted as you pulled out your phone, taking covert pictures of Mattheo with one of the biggest smiles you’d ever seen him wear. 

He found another, settling it on his lap, his attention diverted as Jess’ son Aiden tugged at Mattheo’s sleeve, shoving a toy racecar into his face. Mattheo was polite, asking all kinds of questions, letting the boy run the car up and down his arm, and over his face, even as the small tyres went in his eye. When he finally grew bored of tangling the model Ferrari in Mattheo’s hair, he pointed at the gift still sitting in his lap. 

Mattheo lifted it, showing it to him as Aiden slumped down across Mattheo’s shoulders lay across his back and tugging at the ribbon. He helped to open it, and while Mattheo’s face lit up, Aiden’s scrunched up, turning to glare at you on his new friend’s behalf. 

“Ew, Auntie (Y/N), why did you get him a colouring book? Colouring books suck.”

Your laughter was hidden by Mattheo’s even as Jess scolded her son, and he stood, bringing it back over to you as his amusement died down. It was no ordinary book, it was a stress therapy colouring book, and by the way he was already flicking through the drawings inside, you could tell he liked it. 

Stacking it on top of the sketchpad with his new quills and chalks. He reached for your mug, taking it from your hands and putting it down on the table by the sofa before tugging you up. Your body flew into his with the force of it, his arms wrapping around you tightly, and his face buried in your neck. 

“Thank you.”

“Just a couple of gifts.” You smile, rubbing his back gently as he sank further into your touch, leaning his weight onto you. Your friendship group had already exchanged presents before leaving for the holidays, you’d done a Secret Santa exchange, and you’d given Blaise a new phone case and a basket full of chocolates.  

“It’s so much more than that, stop playing it casual.” He muttered, words vibrating along your skin. With one final squeeze, he pulled back, the two of you dropping down onto the sofa, and you kicked your legs out across his lap comfortably. He reached for his new sketchpad, cracking open one of the new quills, a green one, and adjusting you. He propped your legs up on his lap to lean his book on, his head falling to your shoulder as his side pressed to your torso, and that oh-so-serious look took over his face once again as he began to sketch. 

Sketching the Christmas tree.

Weaving your hand into his hair, you found yourself slipping back into that place where only you and he existed for a while, scratching lightly at his scalp and sitting still as he drew. 

He stayed like that for a long while.

Long enough for the sun to start properly rising across the sky, and the Church bells on the horizon to start ringing. The children had rushed off to start a new game, and the group had dispersed through the house to keep up with their own activities. He’d long since finished his drawing, and was now lying quietly on your shoulder, your hand still in his hair, his eyes closed as he rested, mumbling responses to the conversation the two of you were barely carrying. 

“I hate to disturb you two,” Your mother said, in a tone that suggested she very clearly did not hate to do such a thing, a grin on her face as she poked her head around the doorway, “But we’re about to start the baking. Did either of you wish to join us?”

Mattheo lifted his head, looking at you eagerly, and your hand slipped down to his shoulder as you pushed him upright again. “Go, make cookies.”

He stood, stretching out stiffened limbs. “Will you come too?”

You hadn't planned on it, much preferring to sit back and maybe take a nap. But, Mattheo was excited, and you’d long since decided that today was all about him. You could spare one Christmas to make him happy in ways he’d never forget. “Of course I will.”

He took on a happy look, and the two of you made your way to the kitchen side by side. Your mum left the doorway from where she ‘was not watching’, walking ahead. “So, what are we making?” Matt asked as the three of you joined the other few who had volunteered in the kitchen. 

“We have brownies over here, cookies on the island, and apple pie being made on the table over there. Take your pick, sweetie.”

“Uh… cookies?”

“Perfect. You’ll work with me.” She took his arm by the elbow, pulling him towards the island in the centre of the room. You took over at the brownie station, washing your hands before joining in. 

He put all of that polite, well-trained behaviour to good use as he chatted up a storm with your female relatives. They all loved him, laughing at his jokes and listening intently to his stories as he worked, barely aware of the attention that was on him as he stirred the bowl. Meanwhile, you spent the majority of the time trying to fight off all the little hands trying to reach up and snatch chunks of chocolate from the chopping boards, and stealing the bowls to lick.

You did, at least, manage to snap a picture of Mattheo with his cookie cutter before he spotted you. 

The children were clamouring for the dishes by the end. You were elbow-deep in soapy water and washing, a tray of hot brownies and out, cookies cooling, and more batches already in the oven as several pies sat out waiting for later. Mattheo was talking to one of your older Aunts, charming her with boyish tales of him and Theo and Draco, when she took the brownie batter bowl out of a sprinting Aiden’s hands from where he had grabbed it and run. 

He wailed loudly as his plot was foiled and she tutted at him. “Thieves don’t get treats, Aiden. You should’ve asked nicely. Only the nice boys get to lick the spoon.”

He frowned, crossing his arms over his chest, and knowing better than to fight back. She then turned back to the conversation, and held it out to Mattheo. “Matt, dear, would you like it?”

“Me?” He was as astonished as Aiden, taking the bowl and the spoon slowly and bringing them close to himself. You’d told your family a little more than you let on to Matt. You’d told them just enough to know that he didn’t typically have a good Christmas, that one of your favourite times of the year was one of his worst, and you wanted to make that better for him today. 

He picked up the spoon, licking the batter off happily, and crouching down with the bowl in his hands, holding it to Aiden. Swiping his finger through it, your nephew was pleased once again, and soon enough, Mattheo had a swarm of children hanging from him as he made the mistake of sharing something sugary. 

When he finally emerged, notably sans bowl, he wandered over to you, dropping the spoon in the sink. His jaw dropped to speak to you, attention stolen by the tugging of a small hand on his sleeve. Mabel was peering up at him, holding his colour therapy book in her other hand, and lifting it up. 

“Can I colour in’y’book w’you?” She mumbled quietly, and your heart burst in your chest as he slipped his hand down to take hers carefully. 

“Of course.” He let himself be guided away, back to the living room with Mabel, and your head dropped, hiding the smile as you continued to wash up. 

Jess leaned on the counter beside you, a cloth in her hands from where she’d helped with the rest of the cleanup, and you turned to look up at her. 

“I like him. He’s sweet.”

“You should see the pranks he pulls at school, he’s a menace.” Your joke amused her, a low sound leaving her as she wiped at the counters around you both for excess flour. 

“Yeah, but, I still think he’s a sweetheart. And he’s into you, that much is clear.”

“Don’t start with this,” You groan, drying off your hands as the last of the monumental amount of washing up was completed. “I told you, we’re friends.”

“Yeah, just friends.” She shrugged, “But just because that's all you are right now, doesn’t mean that’s all you’ll ever be, or all you want to be. I see the way you look at him. You like him.”

“He’s pretty. Every girl looks at him like that.”

“No,” She shook her head, and you couldn't bear to look at her as she read you like a book. Instead, you began prepping a new mug of hot chocolate. “You look a him like you think his soul is pretty, not just him.”

“Shut up.” Her poetic words made you blush, and she closed in on you, ready to make the final strike. “Don’t you dare—”

“You looove him. You got a big, fat crush on him.”

“I will push you off your broom myself.” Your scowl didn’t ward her away, she was only torn from smirking at you as your mother began to unload the next set of food to start being prepared for dinner. The turkey was already in, had been for hours, but she began to unstack pigs and blankets as trays of sausage meat stuffing onto the surface. 

Swiping up the mug, you followed the rumbling of Mattheo’s deep voice through the house. Sat on the floor of the snug, Mabel was lying on her stomach by his side as she coloured as neatly as possible onto the first page of his colouring therapy books with her crayons. Aiden was under his arm, holding up the instruction manual of a new Lego set, as a half-built model sat in front of them. 

Elliot was playing with some of Aiden’s toy cars, and eight-year-old Jessop was lying on the sofa, reading a book. Knocking two knuckles on the door, five heads all snapped up to look at you. Mattheo smiled as you stepped into the room, and Aiden grumbled at his distraction, going back to the Lego even as Mattheo pulled away. 

You offered him the new cup of hot chocolate, and he smiled as he accepted it, taking a sip. 

“You know the men are all gathered in the living room watching some movie about cars. They have a lot of beer, and an empty seat, if you want to join them.” You sang the words enticingly, hands on his hips as you swayed him to the beat of your melody. 

“What will you be doing?” He stepped a little closer, free hand going to your waist, too.

“I’ll help my mum with the cooking.”

“Can’t I help you cook, instead?” His whisper brushed your cheek as he leaned into place a kiss there, and your heart stuttered in your chest, taking you a moment to recompose yourself as he pulled back with a smile. 

“Of course you can… if that’s what you want, but you don’t have to. You’re here to have fun.”

“What makes you think I’m not having fun?” He mused, peering at you over the rim of the mug as he took a sip. “I’m having a ton of fun. Best Christmas ever, all thanks to you. I just want to be wherever you are today.”

“Well, then I guess we’ll be in the kitchen,” Your words are hardly audible as you say them, swallowing back the emotion in your throat as he held eye contact. 

“I guess we will, sweetheart.”

You turn to walk away, Mattheo following behind you as you lead him back to the kitchen. 

He was more than welcome once again, immersed straight into girl talk as your relatives grumbled and complained over their husbands. Mattheo put his suspiciously good rolling habits to use, wrapping sausages tightly in strips of bacon, and almost choking when your mother complimented his skills. 

He tried to hug you with raw hands, chasing you around the kitchen until your mother scolded him playfully, calling him back and having him lift the meats from the oven to be re-basted. 

He was chopping and peeling potatoes, nudging back and forth with his hip as you worked beside him, when your already-exhausted-looking Uncle Jeremy peered into the kitchen, Elliot dangling upside down from his shoulder. 

“The film ended. We’re going to take the kids out for a walk and burn off some of this energy. Anyone want to join?” 

He looked like he was desperately waiting for them to tire out so the drinking could start, Elliot climbing all over him like a playground frame and your mother shooed you both away. “You can go, c’mon. Go for a walk, let your grandparents and I have some time.”

The kitchen cleared out, shoes and coats and scarves were put on, and then you were all trudging out into the snow as your father shut the door, hands in his pockets as he followed you down the frozen garden path. Mattheo wore an old coat he’d borrowed from your father, zipped right up as he kept his chin tucked down inside it, hands buried in his pockets. 

“Oh, don’t pout, Matty. You’ve had colder than this.”

“How did we end up out here? I was cosy inside five minutes ago.” He pressed his hands even tighter into the coat as you linked an arm through his, snuggling up to his side as you followed the others along toward the fields you’d roam across for a while.

“My mum does this every year. We always host, but she kicks everyone out so she can check on my grandparents, and take a break for herself. She’ll have a large glass of wine, sit down in front of the fire, and watch an episode of whatever her latest reality TV show is, before we all come back.” The grass crunched under your feet as you stepped out onto the frozen fields, glittering and icy as far as you could see. “It’ll help you work up an appetite for the meal, though.”

“Your mother nearly gave me a heart attack when she asked me where I learned to roll pigs in blankets like that for someone who’s ‘never cooked a day in his little life’.” He produced his hands to make air quotes around his words, and only tucked one back into his pocket. The other, he took yours with, lacing your fingers together, and rubbing his thumb over your own. 

“I know. Your face was priceless. I actually got a picture of it.”

“If anyone ever sees that picture, I’ll hex you.”

“You mean it wasn’t okay for me to send it straight to the group chat? Oops.” He stuck out his tongue, but sighed, taking in the countryside around him as you walked through it. 

“You grew up here?”

“Nice, isn’t it? You murmur, looking around and letting the nostalgia wash over you as your thumb wrestled with his absentmindedly. “There’s a river nearby. We used to go down there as kids, this big group of us who lived here. We’d have picnics, and wade in the water and play on the rope swing.”

“Sounds fun.” He sighed, and you squeezed his hand, no words to comfort him coming to mind. He’d had no such freedom in his childhood, you knew as much from the snippets he or Tom would accidentally drop before they could stop themselves. “Sometimes I would walk around the grounds of the estate, but we were only allowed out if it was dry so we wouldn't get dirty.”

Resting your chin on his shoulder, you hugged his arm, snuggling into him as much as you could while still ambling on behind your chatting family. “Oh, Matty…”

“Normally, I hate hearing that. The sad, pitying voices.” He murmured, before twisting to face you, the tips of your noses brushing. “But when it’s you, I kinda’ like it. You don’t feel condescending, you just feel caring.”

“That’s because I do care.”

“I know.” He smiled, turning to face forward once again, and you rested your cheek on his shoulder instead, making it easier to walk along, huddled into his side. 

You remained in silence for a while, letting him soak it all in, pausing occasionally to take a picture or two of him looking at things. Even when he walked away, to pick up fallen pinecones, or to look at initials carved into a tree, he still came back every time, to where you patiently waisted, his hand finding yours or tucking you back under his arm each time. 

You were in the middle of taking several photos of him petting a walker’s dog when your father stopped, hands on his hips as he stared up at the greying sky overhead. 

“It’s going to start snowing.”

Mattheo’s head snapped up, eyes wide as he let the dog go, running to catch its owner. “How can you tell?”

The excitement was clear in his voice, standing up and brushing his gloveless hands off on his jeans. You snorted, he’d really done it now. “Dad has a sixth sense about these things.”

“You see, my boy, those clouds up there are called nimbostratus clouds.” He pointed upwards, hands on his hips as Mattheo adopted a similar stance, copying him and staring up at the sky. “They’ve been settling in all day, and now the sky is full. Not to mention, it just dropped a degree or two a minute ago. Now, it’s not that perceptible when it’s already this cold, but I’m good with temperatures, you know. And it always drops a degree or two right before it precipitates.”

“And, how do you know it’s snow, not just rain? Or do those kinds of clouds only make snow?”

You laughed again, linking your arm through Mattheo’s, and he twisted his head to press a kiss to your temple. He stiffened a moment later, just as you did, and you wondered if he realised what he’d done at all until after. He didn’t take it back, though. Instead, he relaxed a second later, still listening to your dad talk about how he just knows, can feel it in his bones when the snow comes.

“So, how many different types of clouds are there?” Mattheo asked after listening to the whole explanation.

That was how you spent the entire walk back getting to hear about all the different types of cloud formations. To his credit, Mattheo seemed to be genuinely soaking up every word your father said. He had questions, and opinions, which span off into a new chat about the water cycle and glaciers.

It was only when you were ten minutes out from home that your father’s prophecy came true, and snow began to fall in heavy flakes from the sky. The children squealed excitedly, and Mattheo caught the flakes in the palms of his hands, watching each one melt against his skin with a small smile on his lips. 

Finally, as everyone stepped back into the warmth to shake off the snow, and stomp mud off of their boots, it was like a stampede to get to the fireplace and warm up. Shaking out his hands and flexing his fingers, you took your time unwinding your scarf, hanging it up with your coat and peeling off your gloves. 

His cheeks, nose and hands were pink, and he was rubbing at his arms to warm up now that he’d taken off his coat. 

“My hands are cold.”

“I can tell.” You took them in your own, rubbing his frozen skin lightly. His fingers trembled a little in your hold, chilled to the bone, and you lifted your cupped hands together to your face. Softly parting your hands, you blew warm air between them onto his skin, your cheeks flaring with warmth at the gasp he made. 

Rubbing again, you repeated the actions until the shaking of his hands stopped, and you finally chanced a look up at him. He was staring down at you, eyes practically glittering and lips parted. He seemed lost for words for a moment, toying with the thoughts in his mind before finally settling. “I like it when you fuss over me.”

He took his hands back, tucking them faster than you could stop him under the back of your jumper, cold fingers splaying across your back as he tugged you into his body. His face pressed into the crook of your neck, cold nose dragging along your skin. No matter how much you groaned and wriggled, his grip was tight, chilling you with him as he stole your body heat.

Eventually, you just gave in, sighing as you stroked his back, letting him snuggle in for warmth rather than fight for a space next to the fire. Amongst the woodsy smell of his cologne, and the gingery pine scent of the Christmas candles your mum burned every year, something else lingered in the air. 

Berries, citrus fruit, and spices. 

“I think mum made mulled wine.” Your words were right beside his ear, and at that, he raised his head, scrunching his nose sweetly a couple of times before sniffling the air. “Want some?”

“I’ve never had any. Is it good?”

“Seriously? Matt!” Grabbing behind yourself for one of his hands, you hurried him through the house. Just as you’d suspected the morning’s tanker of hot chocolate had been swapped out, and now, a steaming vat of mulled wine replaced it. 

Grabbing two glass mugs, you set them out, pouring some from the little tap, and passing it to him by the handle. The cinnamon and orange smell so much stronger in the air now, and you moaned under your breath as you breathed in the steam. 

He held the mug in his hands, not even seeming to feel the heat seeping through as he blew on the surface, several times, before taking a tentative sip. You waited for his reaction, practically on the edge of your seat, if you’d had one.

“It’s…”

“It’s..?” You burst, waiting for his reply, and he dragged it out just to tease you. 

“It’s really good.” He eventually caved, taking another sip, and another, as you cheered. “Don’t ever tell my boy Theo I said that. He’d skin me alive. He hates the idea of mulled wine and refuses to touch it. It’s an insult to his Italian heritage, he says.”

“So is cream in carbonara, breadsticks, and chicken mince lasagne.” You scoffed, and he grinned at that.

He drank some more, the two of you sipping quietly on your glasses, before hearing the opening tunes of a movie on the TV. Refilling your glasses, you headed through. The room was only half full, some sat about chatting in the dining room, others upstairs, and some likely in the snug or their bedrooms. It left you plenty of space to lie out across one of the couches, stretching happily, and your toes didn’t even reach the other end. 

The kids were all gathered around on the carpet, and Mattheo paced slowly behind you, with no attention on his movements but all his attention fixed on the animations taking place on the screen. He sat next to your legs nudging them up into the cushions before twisting and leaning back, settling himself against you with his head on your shoulder, back to your chest, as he continued to watch. 

He didn’t see your flushed cheeks or your shy surprise, not as you hid your face behind him from the watchful eyes of the few members of your family that were in here, too. Reaching for one of the rolled-up blankets along the back of the couch, you shook it out, spreading it over his body for an extra layer of warmth. He made a happy sound, shuffling back further into you, and letting the hand not holding his cup fall to clasp your calf by his hip, stroking slowly. 

Your arms crossed over his chest, giving up on what little pretence you had. This day would already be one of your favourite memories that you made, you might as well give into the full depth of what you wanted, and really make it the best it could be. Whether anything came from it or not, you’d still have this moment, cuddling with him on the sofa as he watched The Snowman for the first time. 

Your fingers ran through his hair, tugging out wind-tangled knots loosely, and playing with the curls around your fingers. You were oh-so-fond of Mattheo’s natural hair, dipping down to bury your nose in the strands, and kiss to top of his head. He squeezed your leg again, tipping his head back enough to leave a kiss brushed on your chin, before quickly looking back to the screen, and finishing off his mulled wine. 

Your cheek rested where your lips had once been, glancing around the room. Most of your relatives only gave you a small smile, while your mother winked at you, and your dad offered a thumbs up. You merely rolled your eyes, thankful for the dark of the room and that they couldn't see your blush. 

By the end of the movie, Mattheo was turning to you, abject horror evident on his face, as everyone else seemed to get on like normal. “He melted?”

“He’ll be back next year, don’t worry.” You smile, and Mattheo shook his head, brows furrowed, a deep ridge between them that showed just how bothered he was by the ending. 

“But he melted! How is that— I thought this was a child’s movie!”

“It is!”

“That’s like killing the dog in a Christmas movie.” He stuttered, trying to keep his voice low despite his growing concern. You left a kiss on his forehead in an attempt to hide your amusement from him. 

“Then you’re gonna’ hate The Snowman and The Snowdog.”

“Say sike. You say sike right now, or I’m getting in that floo and going home.” He pointed in the direction of the fireplace, and your laughter broke out, spilling into uncontrollable giggles. He was not pleased with your laughing, even if he did wrap you up into his arms, smothering your face into his bicep and grunting unhappily. “You cruel, cruel woman. Finding joy in my misery.”

That only made you laugh more.

The day was going by too quickly for your liking, it felt like all you did was blink, and you found yourself instead sitting at the dining room table, Mattheo on one side, your Uncle James, Grandma Alice and Grandpa William teamed up with you as you tried to count through the Premier League teams before the other teams.

Someone else hit the buzzer first, and you cursed in a very unladylike manner that made your Grandpa chuckle. 

Mattheo wasn’t much help with general knowledge, but he was enthusiastic. He tried as much as he could to participate in the rounds, and whenever he did happen to get something right, the look that took over his features was enough to light the night sky. He’d cheer, and kiss your cheek, and scribble the answers down on the big answers sheet you’d been assigned. 

It went on and on, only ending when the timer went off for the turkey, and raucous shouting took over from every adult as the quiz was cut short. Mattheo was laughing, loud, his arm looped around your waist as he nestled you into his side, immersed in the noise and hubbub. One of your cousins was adding up the scores, and you already knew you hadn't won, but hearing all of the scores being read, you cringed at just how badly your team had done. 

Mattheo laughed into your hair, the other arm hooking around your shoulders to pull you into him more fully. 

“That was more insane than a Common Room party.” He grinned, spoken close to your ear, and you laughed.

“Why do you think I’m so good at handling you lot when you’re drunk and rowdy, hm?” 

“I have never seen anyone corral drunk Italians like you.” He pulled back enough to peer down at you, and you smiled. 

The moment was snapped away from you both by the clearing of the quiz sheets away. The pens and markers were being gathered by Aiden, while Mabel followed him around with a basket for him to drop them into. Once the seats were clear, the settings all started to come back, and you watched as the room was transformed once again from a disaster zone and back into an elegant eating space. Cutlery went down after the plates, napkins and glasses and a cracker at each space. 

Mattheo was called away to help carry in bottles of wine, filling each glass around the table while the parents began to get the children settled in at their small table in the corner. Meals had already been prepared for them, a small chicken carved up between them all, a couple of roasties and just enough veggies that there would be no tears on Christmas Day. 

Then, the adult table was filling up, you carried bowls of food back and forth; several different kinds of vegetables, potatoes, meats and gravies, sides and stuffings up and down until the table was full from one end to the other.

When you finally sat down and tucked your napkin down to cover your lap, Mattheo settled in beside you. He was checking out every bowl, the dish of roast potatoes you’d mentioned being most excited for seemed to have conveniently found itself placed right in front of you both, and he smirked into his wine as you mentioned as much. 

Your father stood at the head of the table by the turkey, ready to carve, and the room fell quiet as all attention moved to him. Save for the ecstatic chatter of the children, that is. Your father held the meat-fork in one hand and the knife in the other, pausing just over the top of the turkey. Looking back up, he pulled back. 

“Mattheo,” The man beside you still as he placed his glass down, and all attention fell to him. “Come and carve for us.”

Mattheo’s stumbled response was adorable, and he untucked his chair when your father repeated himself. He walked slowly toward the head of the table, taking the instruments from your father’s hands. He paused, splotches of read coming back to his face, but before he could admit to being lost, your dad was guiding him on where to poke and how to slice. 

As soon as the first slice fell out and he lifted it off, clapping and cheering sounded around the room, and you made sure you were the loudest, his proud smile directed at you as he looked right at you. “First slice for you, sweetheart?”

You passed your plate along, all the way to get the meat from where he stood, before it was passed back to you. 

He kept going, slicing again and again until his wrist hurt, and he put down the knife and fork carefully. Stepping back for your father to take over, he clapped Mattheo on the shoulder. “Good job, son.”

It was spoken mindlessly, casually, as your father got back to work carving the meats, but it meant the world to Mattheo. His jaw dropped, and for a second he was frozen. You were almost worried he’d bolt, before he was speeding back over to the chair and took his seat beside you once again. He didn’t mention it, but he did let out a shaky breath, and took a heavy gulp of wine as his hands shook.

Your hand landed on his thigh, stroking lightly as he reached for the bowl of potatoes. “You okay, honey?”

“Never been better.” His tone sounded flat but you believed his words, watching as he dished up some potatoes onto your plate and his, picking out the ones that looked the best to give to you. “I carved a turkey.”

“And did a mighty fine job of it too.”

“You think?”

“Mhm. I’m very impressed.” You served up carrots and parsnips and Mattheo did mashed potatoes, dishes swapping about across the table, up and down until everyone had what they wanted. 

In a blur of good talk and food, you set into polishing off the plate before you, watching Mattheo try each and every item. 

“What’s normally on your Christmas Dinner?”

“Uh… well, father goes hunting with his business partners in the week leading up to Christmas, and normally he makes me and Tom go too. He’ll choose the best pheasant from the day, and that’s served. Along with a turkey, gammon, beef, lamb, and some kind of vegetarian wellington or roast.”

You watched him slice off a piece of his turkey, eyes rolling a little as he hummed happily, combining it with a piece of stuffing. 

“All the usual trimmings, too, to put on a show. But we weren’t allowed to eat them. Mother only let us have things that could be considered elegant.”

A snort left you, and he smirked. “What exactly is considered an elegant Christmas dinner food?”

“Things that can be eaten with a fork. Meat, roast potatoes,” He chopped smoothly down the centre of a crispy roast potato, stabbing it in one smooth move and putting it neatly into his mouth. “Stuffing and sprouts. That’s about it.”

“That’s awful! What about the pigs in blankets?”

“Roll around too much when you try to chop them.” He shrugged, and you scoffed. 

“So do sprouts?”

“Ah, but sprouts are a classic Christmas dish, and mother is nothing, if not traditionally elegant.” He made a show of chopping into a pig in a blanket now, savouring it as he ate it. “First time I ever had a Yorkshire pudding was second year, Tom took me to a pub in Hogsmeade. Changed my life.”

“Matty…”

“Don’t feel too bad for me, sweets.” Turning to you, he dipped a little closer, a smirk on his lips as his voice dropped. “If I didn’t have my sad, pathetic life to tell you all about, I wouldn't have a sob story to use to get a pretty girl to fawn over me.”

“Oh, please,” You muttered, shaking your head to hide your blush as you turned back to your meal. “Now you’re just flirting.”

“I’ve been flirting this whole time, you just never want to see it.”

Your eyes rolled at his smirk, and you twisted away, tuning back into the conversation going on around the table.

Mattheo loved his dinner. He ate everything on his plate, and at your relatives’ encouragement, he had seconds. Christmas crackers were popped, jokes were read and the little toys were exchanged around the table until everyone had a useless trinket they were happy with. 

He proudly wore a bright green paper crown on his head, and forced you to wear the orange one that popped out of your cracker too. 

By the time he was nibbling his way through a third plate, his hand was on your thigh, squeezing as he sat slumped in his seat. Jeans unbuttoned under his sweater, he patted at his stomach, content and full. You dipped another roast potato in a pool of gravy on your plate, dragging it through slowly. Lifting it, you took a bite, and he tipped his head, lips parting for the next bite. 

You offered it to him, and he pulled the bite from the fork, chewing with a hum as he listened to the storytelling of the previous Christmas’ that was now taking place. 

Before the food took you out into a food coma, your mother forced clean-up to take place. Bin bags were stuffed full, gifts were tidied away to respective cars and bedrooms, and the washing up was done, the table was cleared. When everyone put their minds to it, it didn’t take long, and you found Mattheo stacking the lad of the leftover tubs into the fridge. 

“We’re going to put some more movies on, and drink mulled wine ‘til we get tipsy. You staying for that?”

“Wild horses couldn't drag me away.” Mattheo smiled, turning to you as your arms wrapped around one of his, guiding him back to the living room before all the seats had been taken. You sat down first, and he quickly found a home leaning on your chest once again, your arms crossed over his chest, and one of his hands laced with your own. 

The other rubbed up and down your forearm slowly, getting himself comfortable as he groaned, spreading out as much as he could. “Did you eat too much?” You teased, and he pinched your arm, shaking his head. 

“I will never be defeated by food.” Despite his claims, he shifted once again, lowering into the couch cousins. Wine was handed out, the lights turned down, and Love, Actually began to play. Clearly, Grandma Judie had chosen the movie. 

That statement came to haunt him halfway through, though, when your mother arrived with a cheeseboard, handing out small plates, and pressing one into his hands. He was ever so polite, he’d never turn it down, and as she passed the box of crackers around to him, he piled three neatly onto the side of the plate. 

“Take more than that, dear. Come on.” She encouraged, and you hid your face against the top of his head to hide your laughter, as he added another three. Then came the cheese, and you swore you could feel Mattheo’s hesitation as he added slices and cubes of various cheeses to his plate, all under your parent’s watchful gaze to make sure he was taking enough. 

As he settled back, you brushed a kiss to his temple, and he tipped his face up towards you a little more. A smile was on his lips, the plate untouched and balanced in his lap. 

“You sure you’re not being defeated?”

“Me? Never.” He grinned, lifting a cracker with a slice of mature cheddar on up to you. “I made sure to get enough for us both, don’t you worry.” 

You didn’t have a chance to argue, the moment your mouth was open, he was forcing the savoury snack into your mouth, a wicked glint in his eye as you chewed slowly. Over mulled wine and cheese nibbles, the movie finished and another one began, this time chosen by one of your cousins. It was more upbeat, not a classic like the last had been, and there had almost been a row over it. 

Classic, or new. Mattheo had sat back and watched in astonished amusement as comments were thrown around the room in an argument for which was better. Eventually, a coin was flipped, and half the room had to grumble and accept it as the other half sat smugly.

The night was fully upon you by now, darkness had taken over as the evening ticked by. The curtains were drawn, candles were lit, and both your sets of grandparents had called it a day and gone up to bed already. The babies had long since fallen asleep too, setting a kind of quiet and peace over the house. 

Mattheo had gone still in your arms a long time ago, dozing between sleep and awake, finally having conceded after his second cracker and left the plate alone on the coffee table. You were sure he’d never admit it, though. 

You were comfy and happy. With the weight of him pressing down against you, and the blanket you’d thrown over your bodies covering you both and keeping you snug, you were sure that this was what you’d call perfect. 

The smell of spices and apples filled the house, your excitement renewing toward the end of the second movie as the time ticked on. Most of the children had fallen asleep, bowls of ice cream left on the kitchen counter from their own desserts, and long since tucked into bed to sleep. 

Your Aunt got up to check the oven, and moments later she called to let you all know that the treats from earlier in the day had finished cooking. “Mattheo.” You nudged, excitement racing through you, and the man in your arms stirred a little. He grunted, rolling over slightly and gripping one of your arms a little more firmly. “Matt!”

“Not right now, sweetheart. M’ sleeping.” He muttered, huffing a heavy breath out, and you chuckled. 

“You’re gonna’ miss dessert, though.”

That got his attention, one eye cracking open, quickly followed by another, and he sniffed at the air. “Smells good.”

“Mhm, so get up, and we can go and get some.”

Your family had already begun filing through to the kitchen, a new excitement surrounding the food as chatter took back up, laughter and new energy taking over. By the time you finally managed to join them, all of the various tray-bakes and puddings had been dug into, and you snatched up a plate to begin serving some to yourself. Some apple pie at one corner, some brownie at another, a scoop of ice cream in the idle, and a stack of cookies at the edge. 

Mattheo shuffled in a few moments later, sleepy and stretching, trying to hold in a yawn as he looked around. Upon finding you, he made his way over, slumping down to rest his head on your shoulder as you plucked two mismatched spoons from what was left in the cutlery drawer. 

Handing him one, he sighed, breaking off a large chunk of brownie and some ice-cream, before finally raising his head and eating the spoonful. With a groan, he told you just how good he thought it was, and went back in for more before even finishing his mouthful. 

The two of you shared the plate between quiet chatter, talking about his day, as Mattheo recounted for you almost every moment. His eyes were sparkling as he got a second helping of brownie for you both, forcing his spoon between your lips when teased him for his excitement, and wiping the edge of your mouth when you glared at him. He was so light, bursting with a kind of happiness you rarely ever saw in him. 

So much tended to weigh Mattheo down, so much of the time. He was a person who was burdened with struggles and troubles, and while he was exceptionally good at making the most of it, and finding silver linings, sometimes, it would eat away at him after too long. Darkness would crawl in at the edges, in the form of exhaustion and temper and emotional outbursts, and you’d find him staving off a panic attack with a cigarette between his lips, leg unable to keep from bouncing as he stood atop the astronomy tower. 

He didn’t look hopeless and world-weary now, though. Right now he looked happy. Full of the kind of happiness that lit a person up from the inside out. He looked like he was at peace, even as he stood huddled with you in the corner of your kitchen eating a shared piece of brownie, while your family around you began to trickle out as the night went on. 

Soon enough, even one more bite of sugar was too much, and you were slumped lazily back onto the couch. Mattheo was lying half across you as the last of your aunts and uncles quietly carried their snoozing children to the fireplace of the cars, ready to floo or drive home. Each and every one of them had bid him a goodbye, telling him how nice it was to meet him as he returned the sentiments with red cheeks and a bashful smile. 

“I suppose it’s my turn to go now.” He mumbled, your fingers running once through his hair, and your mother poked her head out of the kitchen where she’d been chatting with your aunties who were staying, over a cup of tea. At least, you thought they’d been chatting, clearly, she’d been eavesdropping. 

“Oh, Mattheo-dear, you’re not staying over? We thought you would.”

“You did?” He sat upright a little more, eyes wide, and your mother only nodded to him. “I’d like that… as long as I wouldn't be a burden to you.”

“A burden? ‘Course not, dear. You’re a treat to have, and an extra set of hands on Boxing Day is always handy.” She hummed, clearly pleased with her meddling as she disappeared. Mattheo accio’d for a notebook and a pen, sending a lazily scribbled note addressed to his housekeeper through the floo, to inform them of where he was staying for the night. 

As he stood by the fireplace, folding the note and waiting for the flames to change colour, you wrapped your arms around him. Pressing your face between his shoulders, he sagged back into you, relaxing into your touch. 

Orange flickered to green, and he tossed the note in, watching it disappear to ash in the flames in a split-second, before the warm glow was back. 

“Come on, Matty. Let’s go upstairs.” You whispered, and he slipped a hand down to take one of yours from his stomach, lacing your fingers together. Lifting your hand up, he issued the back of it, before turning, and letting you guide him away upstairs. 

You guided him through the house, the floorboards squeaking quietly under your feet in certain spots. “You can stay with me.” You murmured quietly, and he only nodded. 

Opening up the door to your bedroom, his eyes immediately started flicking from one corner to the other, taking in every detail. It was fairly sparse these days, most of your most important possessions came to Hogwarts with you, and everything else, you’d had a big clear out of. Your skincare bottles were all lined up along the dresser, your laptop on the nightstand, and a few half-burned candles littered around. 

One thing you always had, was candles. 

Gathering the bottles you’d left out, you slipped away to the bathroom to get ready for bed before exhaustion took over. 

When you returned, Mattheo was looking through the drawers of your wardrobe. “Searching for something, or just looking for all my dirty secrets?” You tease, and he jumped a little, but smiled as he turned to you. 

“Where are your spare blankets?”

“Given out to all my cousins and relatives who are staying over. Why?” You pulled out a lighter from your nightstand drawer, moving from one candle to another and beginning to light them. He scratched at the back of his neck, and you raised a brow. “Matt, you’ll sleep in the bed, not the floor. Are you insane? It’s freezing, and uncomfortable.”

“I— Are you sure? I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.” 

“You could never,” You murmur, flicking the flame out once they were all done. Most of your drawers were half-empty, and it didn’t take long for you to search through and find an oversized sleep shirt for him. Unfortunately, it was pink. “You want something else to sleep in? I can lend you a shirt, but I don’t have any shorts that would… suit you.”

A flush rose to your cheeks and you actively fought any kind of mental images from passing through your mind. Particularly any that involved Mattheo, and a pair of booty shorts. 

He accepted the pink tee with a grin, stripping his jumper off and over his head. Folding it neatly and leaving it on your dresser, his t-shirt followed, and he donned the hot-pink band shirt with a half-faded Taylor Swift setlist on the back. 

“Enzo would love this shirt.” He muttered, frowning at you as he admired the huge print of her across the front. Undoing his belt, you quickly diverted your gaze, turning back to the bed and tossing throw-cushions out of the way. You heard the rustle of denim, the clink of his belt as he folded it, and then the squeaky steps on the floor as he crossed the room. 

“Do you want to watch a movie before we sleep, or are you—” Arms curled your waist, his face pressed into your neck, and your words stuttered off as he tugged you back into himself firmly. “Matty?”

He shuddered against you, and you turned in his arms despite his tight hold, cupping his face and forcing his eyes up to your own. 

“Mattheo?”

“Thank you. For today, thank you so much.” He leaned in, a kiss on your cheek so soft you could barely feel it. Then another, and another, firmer as he worked, muttering his thanks between kisses all over your face, mumbling his appreciation. His voice cracked as he kissed your forehead, and he sniffled as he moved down to your other cheek. “This was one of the best days of my life, thank you.”

“Matty honey,” You pulled back, enough to see his face as his water-lined eyes shone gold in the flicker of the flames around the room. “It’s okay. It’s okay, I wanted you here. I was so happy to have you here, this was perhaps the best Christmas I’ve ever had, too. Watching you be so happy, making you this happy, it made it so. I love seeing you smile.”

He hiccuped a sob, nodding a little as your thumb swept over your cheek. He attempted to choke back tears, and you shushed him quietly. “I didn’t— I didn’t get you any presents, I’m sorry—”

“Mattheo, stop. Please, look at me. See how happy I am right now.” His eyes scanned over your face, fighting the battle against the tears wanting to spill over. He was clinging to your waist, hands bunching at the sleep shirt you wore as he tugged you in a little closer. “Please smile. That’s what I want you to get me for Christmas. I got snow, I got my family, I got to see you. Now let me see you smile.”

He sniffled through a laugh, the lines of worry etched onto his face finally smoothing out. He smiled, watery and weak, but he smiled, letting out a heavy sigh.

“There he is, my pretty boy.” You pinched his cheek, his head tipping a little further into your hold, his eyes fluttering shut. 

“I’m in love with you.” The worst bubbled from him in uh a rush they almost blurred together, but his body finally sagged, like he was losing the very tension that even kept him upright Swaying forward, his forehead fell to settle on yours, like he was collapsing. “I’m so, so fucking in love with you, and I just had to tell you that. After today, after everything, I couldn't keep it to myself anymore.”

His nose nuzzled against your own as the words he’d said settled over you. “Oh, Mattheo. After all that I just said, you don’t know how I feel about you?”

“‘Course I do. Why do you think I finally had the courage to say it?” Tipping his head up, he kissed the tip of your nose, arms sliding properly around your waist. 

“I love you, Mattheo.” You murmured, shifting up enough for your lips to brush his own, and he smiled against your lips. 

“You are the best thing in my life, sweetheart.” His confession was followed by his mouth closing over your own. A kiss that emptied every part of your mind, you could only focus on him. The slow movements of his lips, drowning in the feel of him pressed up to you, mouths making slow motions as you crossed that line between friends and more. 

He pulled back for a breath, and you chased after him. Your mouths collided once again, needy and desperate this time, his hand slipping up to tangle in your hair as the other slid low down your back. Your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling yourself up to a better angle as your heart pounded against your ribs, a steady drum beat to match the rhythm of your lips. 

This time, when your mouth slid from his own, he left kisses dotted along your jaw, panting onto your skin but unable to stop. Only when he had kissed down to your neck, face buried in your hair, did he pause Hugging you close, his chest rose and fell as he moulded you to his body, fingers massaging against your scalp as his hand still resided in your hair.

Eventually, the two of you shifted to the bed, tucking yourselves snugly under the covers, wrapped around one another as you balanced the laptop on your lap, pulling up a movie. 

“What are we watching?” He whispered, between lazy kisses along your jaw, twirling a strand of your hair around his finger. 

“I was thinking Arthur Christmas. I think you’d like it.”

“Huh,” He murmured, pulling back as you turned up the volume and set it between you both. “Kinda’ sounds like Father Christmas, doesn’t it?”

You laughed against your will, taking his face in your hands and pulling him in for another kiss. “Godamnit, you’re cute.”

Suffice to say, he loved that one, too.

As fate would have it, Mattheo Riddle has a soft spot for animated Christmas movies.

#mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle/reader #mattheo riddle/you #mattheo riddle x you #harry potter #slytherin boys #benjamin wadsworth x reader #benjamin wadsworth/reader

[localnerdforsteveharrington]

Mattheo x f reader and SHES super needy and Horny bc she’s ovulating and goes feral when she sees his abs and veiny hands- smut?!

Needy

Warnings: obviously smut, light choking, ab riding, kissing, bit of praise and degradation.

Ever since getting out of school and moving in with Mattheo, you’d been stuck in full baby fever and so had he to be honest. You had been on him like rabbits and you were no way close to slowing down.

You watched as he worked on a new project in the field behind your house. The muscles of his abs were shining in the sunlight especially when all he had on were tight fitted shorts.

The moment he was in the house you couldn’t take your hands off of him. The entire night consisted of you using any excuse to touch him. Mostly when it came to his hands and his abs. Mattheo had always been toned but since doing work around the house, he had become close to ripped.

After dinner, he pulls you up to your shared bedroom and practically flings you onto the bed. “Don’t think I’m stupid, daring. I’ve seen how you’ve been looking at me for a while now” he says as he throws off his shorts and is left in his boxers.

“Tell me what you want, I can see it in your eyes but I need the words before anything happens, got it, darling?” Mattheo continues speaking as he moves above you. You are at a shock for words and take a moment to think of what to say but when it comes to talking, you are too needy to care.

“Please, I want your- I need you. I need your hands on me, please, I need you in me” you beg him with a look of desperation on your face. “Good girl but you will have to earn me being in you” Theo responds with a smirk, picking you up to rest, sitting on top of his abs.

His hand moves beneath your pale white summer dress and he looks up at you, his face grinning like the devil. “No panties I see, darling. Wow somebody is really trying to a slut for me, but only for me” Mattheo remarks, smirkingly.

“M’ for only you, please I need it” you continue begging for him. “No, first you can make yourself come but with my abs. I see the way you stare at them so don’t act so surprised, whore” he snaps at you, “go on, darling. Make yourself come on me.”

You have no choice in your feeling of desperation. Moving against his abs, you continue for a while. Your moans fill the room but you don’t bother to quieten them down and instead allow yourself to let go on him.

At that moment, you feel his hand grip your neck whilst you ride him. His grip isn’t tight enough to cut your breathing off but definitely enough to set you off the breaking point of your climax.

“Fuck, please, Theo. Please, need to cum” you beg of him, no longer being able to hold back. “Go on, darling. Be a good whore for me” he encourages with a dark smirk as you hit your climax. “Doing so good for me, come on, darling.”

You breathing starts to slow down at that point as you allow yourself to lay down on him. “You did so well, darling, now we’ve gotta get cleaned up, okay?” Mattheo says, looking down at you with a soft smile.

#mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle x you #mattheo riddle smut #benjamin wadsworth #harry potter #fanfic smut

[doremimosasol]

𝐋𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐭 - 𝐌𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐨 𝐑𝐢𝐝𝐝𝐥𝐞 ๋࣭⭑

warnings: suggestive (trying to get into it more please forgive me), swearing

word count: 0,7 k (just a small one this time :))

a/n: thank you so so much @slytherinslut0 for proofreading this and giving these amazing adaptions, I love you <3

Oh, Mattheo was always so goddamn needy. 10 minutes until class? Not ideal. But Mattheo did a lot of things far from ideal. Once you gave him the chance to lay his hands on you, he never stopped.

How you’d finally gotten here was almost mind-boggling to him after months of just trying to get you to look at him, months of wondering how those delicate hands of yours would feel on his body. However, it was more than that. He didn't only want your touch on his skin, he wanted it on his soul. Gods, he’d never craved someone as much as he craved you.

And no matter what he did, he couldn’t control himself. Thoughts running wild when he stared at his ceiling, finding their way back to you without failure. His mind was consumed by thoughts of you. It drove him insane, resulting in endless sleepless nights.

Oh… but when he finally got you to look at him, when he finally got you to speak to him, the thoughts only got worse. You were definitely interested, it must be. Were you though?

To him, it seemed all too coincidental. You woke at the same time as him, and ate breakfast at the same time as him—your minds must be connected. You went to the library at night, you must've known it was a habit of his too. Take the same routes as him? Gosh, you must be in love with him.

But maybe you actually were falling for him, you saw him more than you saw your own friends. Everywhere you were, he was. Coincidence? Hell no. Schedules of each other in the back of both of your minds.

It didn't even take a month before he had you pressed against the wall of one of the broom closets. Hot breath, fervent fingers, charged atmosphere. You wanted each other. He was hastily moving his hands over your shirt, cursing it for getting in the way of his goal.

"For fuck's sake, let these buttons open up already."

Warm breath hitting your ear while he let his hands travel everywhere they shouldn't be. He was so hot, everything about your interactions was hot. Fingers inching closer to the place where you desperately needed them most.

You two never kissed though, the contact of lips unnecessary in the heat of those moments. It would make it feel too real. Because if you didn't kiss, nothing happened right? You could just go on with your lives until the next time.

And that's how you both acted around each other outside of the places and moments he worshipped your body. No traces left on each other, a secret.

10 minutes until class, enough time to get your high. For each of you to get your fix. But not nearly enough time to calm down—both still on edge in class. The steady yapping from the professor at the front was not even remotely being absorbed. Eyes glued to each other, unable to wipe the feel of fingers on skin from your minds. The heat of each other's eyes reflecting the heat that you both now so desperately tried to cool down.

And every time it became more real, the passion was not only present in those rooms but now when you both were around each other throughout the day. The nagging feeling. The emotion undeterred.

You knew it was over when you two finally kissed. You were in far too deep to turn back now. Because it already felt too real, and you both knew it. Once you started, you couldn’t stop — not doing anything other than kissing that night. Trying to make up for the time you waited.

Bodies moving in sync, not even able to catch your breath. You felt out of this world. Yet he was still by his senses, still making sure his body was driving you to your high. Once he heard the familiar sound of your moans he knew, he once again succeeded.

His breath hitting your ears, burning your skin. "Let's make this fucking real, yeah? Be my girlfriend, please be my girlfriend." He was begging... or demanding?

Of course, you said yes. You finally caught your breath, only for it to be taken away once more — and more and endlessly more times.

#harry potter #fiction #slytherin #slytherin boys #benjamin wadsworth #marcus lopez arguello #mattheo x you #mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle fanfiction #mattheo riddle x you #mattheo riddle headcanon #mattheoriddle #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheoxreader #mattheo x y/n #mattheo smut #mattheo fluff

[wordsarelife]

—gorgeous

pairing: mattheo riddle x fem!reader

summary: being in love with your best friend might be a bad idea, but drowning your sorrows in alcohol might be your worst one yet

warnings: underage drinking, partying, no usage of y/n, a few suggestive remarks

notes: this is my official entry for the hogmarch challenge of @thatdammchickennugget using prompt 2: “are you speaking parsletongue or am i really that drunk?”

the night was rushing fast away in front of your eyes, easy chatter, at the start of the party, quickly turning into drunken singing and shouting along to the music that was drowning out everything else.

the dim blue light that was shining through the ravenclaw common room did it‘s best to worsen the drunken state many of your classmates were in.

mattheo was sitting on a couch, wearing his usual cool demeanour and being surrounded by his friends. they were known for getting a bit drunk, but never making an embarrassment out of themselves through loud singing or obnoxious dancing.

and normally you were known for sitting right next to them and doing the same.

even though it was dark, you could see mattheo's head turn and his eyes searching the crowd for you. you had excused yourself to get something to drink. that had been over ten minutes ago and you were really debating to just go to bed.

the night had turned out differently than you had expected and you weren't really in the mood to act like it hadn't.

"someone is looking for you" a voice behind you said and you turned around startled.

"harry" you said relieved when you recognized the boy.

it wasn't like the two of you were friends, after all you were coming from vastly different groups, but since a project in astronomy you had become acquaintances, sometimes sharing a few nice words at parties.

"why are you standing here all alone? why aren't you with your friends?"

"why aren't you?" you shot back, making harry quirk an eyebrow.

"well played" he complimented and smiled "i was trying to get away from dean and ginny making out"

"ouch" it wasn't really a well known fact that harry fancied ginny, but you had noticed it right away a few parties ago and he had been able to read you well enough to know that you had known.

"it's alright" he shrugged "i just don't want to sit next to it"

"who would?" you asked sarcastically as you eyes fell on the couple, hungrily making out on the couch, successfully pushing seamus off.

it seemed that a few people felt way too comfortable in the ravenclaw common room.

"oi, it's no fun with these two" seamus complained, sympathetically hitting harry's shoulder on the way to the table with the drinks.

"back to you" harry grinned, seemingly uncomfortable with talking about his secret crush on ginny weasley more than necessary "why are you avoiding riddle? i thought you two were the best of friends"

"i'm not avoiding him" you said defensively, taking a big gulp from the vodka in your cup to prevent yourself from saying any more.

harry took a moment to study your facial expression, before he sighed in a tone that almost made you tear up "oh"

"no" you shook your head "no 'oh', stop looking at me like that, potter"

harry laughed dryly "too late" he shrugged "so, being the best of friends is your actual problem, huh?"

you didn't answer his question, but took another sip from the cup. immediately regretting it.

harry cringed "if you continue drinking at that rate you won't be able to speak a coherent sentence in a few minutes"

"maybe i don't want to speak coherent sentences anymore"

"so we're already at the point of drowning our sorrows in alcohol?" he raised his cup and took a sip "no, you're right, it doesn't look like you're unluckily in love with riddle at all"

you sighed "okay, fine, you're obviously smarter than you look" you rolled your eyes.

"well, ouch" harry said offended, but you could see a hint of mischief in his eyes. "am i allowed to join your little club of self-pity?"

"sure" you nodded "the more the merrier i guess"

"there's no better way to spend a party than drown yourself in self-pity with the girl you're kind of on good terms with"

"yeah, totally" you grinned "but i think if we continue talking at that rate we will be able to call each other friends in an hour"

"deal" harry laughed, before he grabbed the bottle of vodka on the table behind you, filling both your own and his cup back up. he put the bottle back and held his cup in your direction "to unrequited love" he said dramatically.

you grimaced, but raised your cup to clink against his. "to unrequited love" you toasted "and unexpected friendships" you added.

"yeah that too" he smiled before you both took a big sip from your cups.

"vodka is fucking disgusting" you complained and harry nodded, making a face that would allow the assumption that he had been thinking the same thing.

"at least it does the trick"

you and harry spend the next hour recklessly sipping vodka, while you were telling each other ridiculous stories. the vodka had a quicker effect than either of you had thought, making the both of you dance and refer to each other as friends sooner than you had predicted.

just as 'dancing queen' began to play and you were twirling on the dancefloor, did you notice the empty spot on the couch occupied by your friends. there was only one of them missing. before it could really register in your brain who exactly was missing, a voice rang out next to you.

"make room, potter" you and harry both turned around, looking surprised at the arrival of mattheo riddle.

"matty" you laughed after the few seconds it had taken you to recognize your best friend.

mattheo's arm darted to the side, catching you before you could fall to the ground. you had made the attempt to hug him, missing his body by a few feet. you had been closer to hugging cormac mclaggen who was standing off to the side.

"there you are" mattheo noted, gently taking your cup out of your hand, sniffing the contents and grimacing at the strong sent of vodka, mixed with a bit of orange juice.

"do you want some?" you slurred, grinning up at the boy, who's arm was still holding you steady.

"how many of these has she had?" mattheo asked harry, thinking he would be a little less wasted than you.

"like thirty-four thousand?" harry answered before him and you broke into simultaneous laughter.

"had to have been a lot" mattheo muttered, noticing the way you were laughing with the chosen one, gripping his arm, like you were old friends.

he let go of you, taking harry's cup as well, emptying the both into the bucket under the table with the drinks. he came back right in time to witness you saying goodbye to harry with a dramatic hug, kissing both his cheeks and lastly his forehead.

"yeah, that's enough" mattheo said, dragging your body back against his when he noticed you going in to plant more kisses on harry's face. he looked bad enough, the red lipstick you were wearing leaving marks all over his face.

harry smiled before he waved at you and turned around, stumbling through the crowd of students probably in search of his redheaded best friend.

mattheo rolled his eyes. "you're absolutely wasted, darling"

you turned around to look at him and unconsciously bring a bit of space between the both of you "is it that obvious?" you asked.

mattheo watched with a smirk, how you tried to balance yourself out, to just be able to stand. your arm ended up stabilizing your own hip and you almost fell full on to the side, when you moved your leg.

"not really" mattheo grinned "come on, baby" he softly gripped your waist on either side, guiding you in the direction of your friends. you closed your eyes, leaning your head against his shoulder, letting him walk you through the room willingly.

"have i ever told you how gorgeous you are?"

"i am?" he asked laughing.

"so gorgeous that it hurts"

"you're flattering me" he smiled, nudging your arm. "but maybe you should concentrate more on walking in the right direction"

he was right. it was taking you way too long to cross the room, thanks to your inability to still walk in a straight line, even with his help.

"hey" mattheo greeted, making the eyes of his friends turn on him. "i'm bringing her to bed"

"already?" enzo asked skeptically, checking his watch "it's only two a.m."

"hey guys!" you greeted when your eyes snapped open. you bend forward, plastering a kiss onto enzo’s cheek. "how the party you doing? good? good!" you smiled, nodding as your eyes fell closed, as you leaned back onto mattheo again.

"what?" theo laughed at your slurred words that had not made the slightest bit of sense.

"yeah, i get it now" enzo nodded understandingly, trying to rub your lipstick off his cheek.

"she's only been gone for an hour" blaise said unbelievingly "how did she get that drunk?"

"she's had approximately like more than a thousand vodka-o's according to potter" mattheo chuckled.

"potter?" draco repeated disgustingly "what has she been doing with potter?"

"harry and i are best friends" you gushed, giving draco an angry look. he rolled his eyes in annoyance, but without questioning your answer.

"let's not get ahead of ourselves, love" mattheo argued, a bit of jealousy in his voice.

"you don't have to be jealous" you softly touched his cheek "you know i love you more than anyone, honey"

blaise let out a loud whistling noise "seems likes she's your girl after all, riddle"

"oh shut up" mattheo said at the same time as you said "of course"

"better bring her to bed now" theo advised and you could feel mattheo nod next to you.

"i'll be back in a few minutes" mattheo promised, as he softly turned you around to be able to walk you in the direction of the door.

"no he won't" you slurred, turning your head in the direction your friends, gripping mattheo's neck and winking at them.

enzo hollored and theo laughed, while blaise repeated the whisteling.

"cheers to that" even draco was amused about you, as he raised his cup in your direction.

"i'll be back" mattheo assured again, pushing you forward.

"no you won't" theo shook his head, smirking as he watched his friend roll his eyes and gently guide you through the crowd.

"how about a shot of tequila?" you suggested to mattheo, perfectly awake again. there was no hint of the tiredness that had consumed your body only a few minutes ago.

maybe it was the alcohol or maybe it was the sound of a familiar voice indicating the beginning of the song 'whatta man' by salt-n-pepa, which was now booming through the boxes.

"no, no more alcohol" mattheo shook his head, suddenly being the kind of responsible he had never seen himself to become.

"oh my god!" you gushed when you finally reconized the song "that's my favorite song! let us dance, matty!"

he was distracted by two hufflepuff boys almost running into him, when you saw the perfect opportunity to escape his hold. stupidly enough, that was the only thing you could see, as you had promptly gotten lost in the crowd of people.

mattheo was at your side only a second after, making you realize that you had in fact just turned around, without moving more than a feet away from him.

"if you don't come with me on your own accord, i'll have to carry you" mattheo warned.

you giggled, clasping your hands around his biceps "let us dance" you pleaded, completely ignoring what he had said.

mattheo furrowed his eyebrows, still waiting for you to reply to what he had said, but you were busy watching a few ravenclaws and hufflepuffs downing shots. "or we could down some shots" you mumbled.

mattheo took that as answer enough, clasping one of his hands around your forearm and the other around your leg, as he bend down to throw you over his shoulder.

"matty" you protested, as he began to walk you out of the common room. you gave up arguing and continued to sing along to the chorus of 'whatta man' as mattheo walked you both through the crowd of people.

as soon as the door to the ravenclaw common room fell close behind the two of you, you slumped down on mattheo's shoulder, the tiredness hitting you immediately.

"do you want to walk on your own now, baby?" mattheo asked, but he could feel you shake your head. "can you use you words?" he was growing a bit concerned at your sudden mood shift, trying to make sure that you were still somewhat alright.

"no" you pouted "i don't want to use my words"

"you just did"

"i never let a man tell me what to do" you slurred and mattheo had to chuckle.

"clearly" he muttered under his breath.

he walked through the halls of the castle quickly, making sure that you wouldn't be discovered by one of the teachers. you would probably kill him if one of them saw you like this. you never really got that drunk often, so it was on mattheo to make sure that no one found out about it now.

he should've searched for you immediately after you hadn't come back. he shouldn't have waited an hour. but he was scared of annoying you. you were always together and he had taken your absence as a sign for you needing some space.

if he could, he would follow you around all the time, preferably holding your hand while doing so. maybe in another universe you would want him to do that.

"when are we there?" you asked, your hand wandering across his shoulder, before it finally found it's place in his hair, gripping it tightly.

"any second now" mattheo was trying to make sure not to shake your body too much, as he quickly walked down the steps to the dungeon. he wouldn't want you to throw up. "do you feel sick, sweetheart?"

"no" you muttered "i just want to sleep"

"i know, i know" mattheo patted the back of your leg "we're almost at the door"

he hadn't lied. it only took a few more seconds, before he whispered the password and the door to the slytherin common room opened, revealing the familiar green lighting as he walked you both inside. he crossed the room, climbing the stairs to your dorm.

he took his time to set you down on your bed, making sure that no quick movement could make you feel uncomfortable. he unfolded your blanket, spreading it across your body.

he was ready to leave the room, before you called him back.

"matty" you cried and he perked up, walking back to the bed. you threw the blanket to the side dramatically, revealing your trousers and shirt. "i can't sleep like this"

"oh" mattheo said dumbfounded "do you want me to take them off?" he asked slowly, gripping the waistband of your trousers.

"are you speaking parsletongue or am i really that drunk?" you giggled at the joke with your eyes still closed.

"you're really that drunk" mattheo answered, rolling his eyes at your unseriousness "and it's not funny"

"it's a bit funny" you opened your eyes and giggled at his facial expression "why are you so serious, matty?"

"i should've kept an eye on you" he answered "you don't like to be drunk"

"i can make my own decisions" you argued, crossing your arms.

"obviously" mattheo nodded "should i take them off?" he repeated his question from earlier, but the tone of his voice made you sober up immediately, well at least a bit.

"are you really angry at me right now?" you asked surprised.

"i had to leave the party to bring you to bed"

"that's not the reason you're angry" you said, knowing him well enough to see through his lie.

"okay, fine" he sat down on the bed and you sat up, drawing your knees to your chest and hugging them with your arms. "maybe i'm a bit angry that you would rather spend your evening getting drunk with potter than speaking to me"

"matty"

"no, it's fine" he shook his head "i shouldn't be angry about how you choose to spend your time. goodnight" he stood up from the bed, walking to the door quickly, so voice rang out before he was able to twist the doorknob.

"can you please just stay?" you asked and he turned around in surprise.

"what?"

"maybe i chose to spend time with harry, but i'm choosing to spend the night with you. isn't that more important?"

"that's not how it works"

"okay, fine" you said, tired of arguing "do you want to know the truth? spending time with you is super hard while i'm madly in love with you" even though you were a bit more sober than before, he could still recognize the drunkness in your voice, especially because you were never that bold.

"madly in love with me, huh?" mattheo repeated surprised, his signature smirk immediately replacing the frown on his face.

“it’s embarrassing, i know” you buried your face in your hands, hiding your rosy cheeks from his eyes. he softly took your hands in his, freeing your face of them.

"don't hide from me" he smiled "and it’s not embarrassing, because the truth is, that i'm madly in love with you too"

you smiled up at him. “can you kiss me then?” he smiled at your question, but shook his head.

“no more kisses tonight” he muttered, softly stroking your hair “we can do that tomorrow, as often as you want to, when you’re sober again”

“okay” you nodded.

he gently helped you to exchange your trousers for pyjama bottoms, before he took of his shirt and climbed into bed next to you. you cuddled close to his chest, your hair tickling him whenever you moved.

"blaise was right" you said finally "i'm your girl after all"

"you always were" mattheo whispered back, softly kissing your forehead, before the both of you fell asleep, holding onto each other.

#mattheo x you #mattheo riddle x you #mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle x reader #matty riddle #benjamin wadsworth #hogmarch challenge #slytherin group #slytherin boys #slytherin boys x reader #slytherin #hogwarts #hogwarts houses #ravenclaw #gorgeous #taylor swift #reputation #reputation tv

[enha-doodles]

Hey can you do a reaction to Slytherin boys reacting to the reader being a bookworm ?

Thankyou 💗💗

SLYTHERIN GUYS REACTION TO YOU BEING A BOOKWORM | ✧⁺。

Pairing : ( Mattheo , Tom , Theodore, Lorenzo, Draco ) x reader

Note : tysm for the request and i hope you enjoy it hehe 🤭🤭

Warnings : none

Mattheo Riddle

Even though Mattheo thinks reading sessions are about as thrilling as watching paint dry compared to his usual parties, he puts on a brave face for your sake because he loves you so much . He sticks around while you bury your nose in books, though his mind might wander to livelier activities. Despite the occasional yawn, he's willing to endure the quiet moments for his darling , he is a romantic and caring guy afterall

Tho he'll complain and whine all the while you won't pay attention to him and roll his eyes upon your books

Tom Riddle

Tom secretly enjoys the peaceful vibe when you're both lost in your own literary worlds. He won't admit it out loud, but he finds it oddly comforting to share comfortable silences with you, even if he'd rather be plotting world domination. Who knew the Dark Lord had a soft spot for reading?

He'd leave some of his books on your table so you'd read them , he loves seeing you smile while you read something interesting especially of his choice , your reactions making him obsessed fall deeper for you .

Theodore Nott

Theodore scratches his head trying to figure out why you're so obsessed with books, but he's a good sport about it. He might ask you why on earth you spend so much time with your nose buried in pages, but hey, to each their own, right? As long as you're happy, he's cool with it, even if he doesn't get it.

He is someone who is smart without much effort - that is the reason he doesn't understand your affection with books , which also has some people wonder why he's not into ravenclaw but then his Slytherin tendencies prove his loyalty to his house

Lorenzo Berkshire

Lorenzo is like a kid in a candy store when he realizes you both share a love for books. He's all in, racing you to finish books first and gleefully bragging when he beats you to the last page. Who knew reading could be such a competitive sport? But hey, it's all in good fun, right?

He's also a very literature typa guy so he'd have you on his lap while you're cuddled into him and you're both reading the same book . You have many of your dates in the library and none of you seem to mind .

Draco Malfoy

Draco puts up a fuss about your bookworm tendencies, claiming they're not even close to being as exciting as qudditch or poker or any other rich kid shit he has done . But secretly, he's low-key intrigued by what you're reading. He'll grumble about it, of course, but then he'll sneakily ask about the plot or characters, trying to act like he's not interested. Classic Draco, always putting on a show.

He's also very bratty so he'll be annoyed af if he's speaking and you'll tell him to shut up because you're on a good part atm coz sweetheart does he look like he cares ? He does

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#🕸️✧⁺。jiho's masterlist #🕸️✧⁺。harry potter's work #🕸️✧⁺。slytherin boy's work #tom riddle x you #yandere tom riddle #tom riddle x reader #tom riddle x y/n #tom riddle #mattheoxreader #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott #yandere slytherin #slytherin boys #lorenzo berkshire x reader #lorenzo berkshire #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy #harry potter yandere #yandere harry potter #harry potter x reader #harry potter au #tom riddle smut #mattheo smut #theodore smut #draco malfoy smut #lorenzo zurzolo #benjamin wadsworth