#mattheo reader x f reader

[pizzaapeteer]

𝘽𝙧𝙤𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧'𝙨 𝘽𝙚𝙨𝙩 𝙁𝙧𝙞𝙚𝙣𝙙

An: Hello, it's been a while, but I finally got a burst of inspiration in light of @thatdammchickennugget's hogmarch challenge. I used the prompt 'or is it because you're not in love with me?' almost 3k Mattheo x fem!reader, fluff, with a hint of lewd thoughts

He knew you were off limits, a line he wasn't supposed to cross. She was A forbidden desire, and maybe that’s what made him want her so badly. Despite these feelings, ones that he couldn’t seem to suppress, Mattheo knew it would never end well if his best friend Theo found out he’d developed a crush on his bloody sister. He’d sure have him thrown off the astronomy tower before he could even so much as utter a word of apology. 

But how could he not, when she was always around, always taking up room in his head. Although she was a year younger than Mattheo and the others, she shared a close bond with her brother. Meaning she spent a majority of her time cooped up in Theo’s shared dorm. She fitted in so well, always making the group laugh, leaving Mattheo often with sore cheeks after spending time with her.

It’s not like Mattheo would ever act on these emotions, doubting she even thought about him past another brother-like figure. He cared for his relationship with Theo too much to do anything stupid. Though the temptations were there, whenever she would ask him a question, the sound of her voice like honey setting the butterflies in his stomach on a rampage to where he felt sick. Her smile was so captivating, drawing his attention towards her even on the gloomiest days.

Even away from her, his mind was constantly consumed by thoughts of her. He’d sit at home, running his hands through his hair. It was fucking him up. Doing his best to keep his feelings to himself, always aware of Theo’s eyes on him supervising. His threat constantly on repetition in his head, “If you ever even look at her past platonic, I’ll feed you to a horntail dragon”. His words drive him to act nonchalant around her, treating her like one of the boys. Like a friend who he had absolutely no interest in

Little did Mattheo know, Theo had repeated the near-to-the same speech to her. Theo knew what his friends were like, and while he appreciated the close relationship his sister shared with them, he didn’t want to see her get hurt. His protectiveness for her blinded his view on the way Mattheo seemed to truly care for her.

She, on the other hand, had assured her brother that he needed not to worry. Though she didn’t admit it to Theo, she was convinced Mattheo only saw her as his best friend's sister. His demeanour had always been apathetic, showing no other interest in her other than a friend. She was good at hiding her true feelings, but her heart felt contused, hating how he’d deftly crawled his way in. He’d probably done it to countless girls before her, and that fact stung her deeply. That was the hardest part about being around him, knowing she couldn't have him, and he'd never want her. 

It was currently Friday evening. The classic group of your brother's friends had been lounging in his dorm before you had challenged everyone, to who could create the best muggle fort. The room filled with tipsy laughter, everyone having passed around the fire whiskey Enzo and Blaise had sneaked in. The group was divided into two, with you being partnered with Blaise and Theo.

You had thought the three of you were doing well despite your disadvantage of one man down, Mattheo's absence due to another detention. But your optimism was dropping as you watched for the third time as the fort collapsed, with Blaise accusing Theo again of being a useless twat for misplacing the pegs.

Across from you, you eyed the way the others had worked, laughing as Daphne and Pansy practically ordered Draco and Enzo into working together well. Though you could see the firewhiskey in the boys' systems wasn’t helping, as they had started arguing about the best way to create the fort. You rolled your eyes, giggling at the stupidity of how the night had unfolded.

Taking another drink from the bottle, you clapped your hands and explained your game plan to your team, elucidating to them. “Right, you two idiots, I’m going to connect the fort together from the inside, while you two hold it together from the outside. Make sure you pass me a peg when I yell.” You eyed your brother, laughing slightly as he held his hands up defensively.

Mattheo made his way down the Slytherin dorm corridors, hearing the sounds of his friends vibrate off the walls. He shoved open the door, readily expecting the ruckus he was about to be greeted with a grin cracking. “Wassup fuck-”, his mouth dropped, brows raising as he takes in the current commotion happening in the crowded room.

His eyes are first drawn to the loud bickering occurring between Theo and Blaise. “How long have you been putting pegs on me!? That’s bloody why we can’t find any more!” Blaise complains, reaching around his back to take them off his shirt. Theo struggles to steady himself against the wall as he hurls over, cracking up, gripping his stomach, deep laughter exploding from him. Mattheo’s brows remained raised, watching in amusement as Blaise struggled, spinning around himself like a dog to pry off the pegs.

Mattheo’s gaze shifts as he steps further into the room, dropping his bag on the floor, the sounds of Draco complaining in the mirror. His hands moving in an aggressive action, attempting to smooth out the wrinkles he created during the fort building. Daphne sits beside him, filming his displeasure with her own enjoyment. Mattheo rolls his eyes at his cousin, losing his tie, as his attention is swept once again. This time by Pansy and Enzo, who seem to have moved on after the success of their fort by now throwing lollies into one another’s mouth.

He spins around again, his curiosity peaks as he wonders where the last member of the group is. His heart drops at the thought of you being absent from the night, the expectation of seeing you having pushed him through his boredom in detention. His curiosity is cured when the faint sound of your voice is heard calling out from inside your fort. “Would you two stop bickering and cooperate! I need another peg. I'm literally holding this thing together from the inside!” 

Mattheo chuckles deeply, being the only one to hear you over all the commotion. He takes a peg off Blaise’s back, bending down to pop his head into the fort. He grins at the awkward position you seemed to have put yourself in, finding it amusing and also stupid that you left the two most difficult sheets to be pegged together last. His eyes drift down your figure, taking in the cute loungewear set you had on as you puffed a piece of hair out of your face, sighing irritably.

He knows he should just hand you the peg, but his impulsive thoughts and the fact that you two were actually alone for once made him act. As he leans over your shoulder, reaching forward to peg the two sheets together, making the fort stabilize. Your body shivers slightly as his body retracts back, his curls brushing against your cheek, causing your body to warm up.

You let go of the sheets, turning now to face him, unaware of how close he still is to you. You hadn’t even heard him come in, leaving you unprepared for his now close presence. He shifts back, allowing reasonable space between you two, and you let out a small sigh out, brushing it off as just an act of kindness, nothing more than platonic. You smile casually, “Oh, glad you could finally join us. What was the detention for this time, Riddle?” You tilt your head slightly, teasing him.

His mouth pulls in a half smile before he rolls his eyes at your taunt, “This one wasn’t actually my fault, the guy was just asking for it. Fucking first years.” He scrunches his face in fake annoyance, watching you laugh at his grumble.

His eyes meet yours for a moment, taking in the way your face is lit up before he shifts his attention to the fort. He was quite surprised with the fact it was actually staying up considering how intoxicated the others actually seemed. “Let me guess, this was your idea Ace.”

You let out a light laugh, averting your eyes to the interior of the fort. Praying your cheeks were keeping their composure, feeling the rush of heat hit them at the nickname. You’d always had a soft spot for the nickname, though you doubted it was only being used in a friendly manner. Nodding your head to his question, your eyes still gazing at the roof of the fort, feeling something was missing. “Yeah, I thought it would be a fun competition. Not too late for you to help out though. I still wanna hang some fairy lights so we can see. Can you grab them for me?”

Mattheo nodded, lazily leaning only his upper body out the fort entrance, posing himself in a way that gave you a good view of his ass. Unsure if he had done it on purpose or not, you tried not to stare too long, but the way it curved nicely in his pants was making your mind run wild. As Mattheo stuck his head out the entrance, spotting the others in a discussion, catching the end of their conversation about sneaking into the kitchens. “Oi, grab me a pack of MnMs,” he calls out to them, as they head out the dorm door.

He spots the fairy lights reaching out his outstretched hand, grabbing them before retracting back into the fort. He twisted around, noticing the way your eyes darted around before meeting his gaze. His chest thumps at the realization that the two of you are alone, chuckling to himself that your brother must be too far gone to have noticed. He passes the tangled lights to you with a sly grin. “What did you do with these last? Tie someone up with them?”

You roll your eyes at his joke, your cheeks definitely blushing now, moving closer to grab a fistful of lights, slowly untangling them, “Ha ha”. Not bothering to actually reply more than that, the two of you work in a somewhat comfortable silence despite your heart practically pumping out of your chest. His hands work skillfully, untangling the knots down the string. He was clearly good with his fingers. You bit your lip as your mind started wandering off as lewd thoughts swarmed through it. Merlin, what would your brother think, if he knew the ideas Mattheo was unawarely filling yours with.

You spun around feeling your body relax now that you were no longer in his direct eyesight, as you squatted to peg the lights up around the fort. The sound of your friends returning allowed a breath to be exhaled, one you didn’t know you were holding. The temptation of just being alone with Mattheo was proving to be difficult.

You grinned, beaming at the finished success of the fort, the lights twinkled giving off a cozy and relaxed ambiance. Mattheo’s felt himself crack a grin at the appearance of your happiness. He’d never get over the way it made him feel as if sunshine was being shone brightly inside him. He patted your thigh gently, “Looks good Ace.”

Before you can react to his touch, the others burst through, chucking pillows and blankets in a multitude of places as they all arrange themselves. You move out of the way watching as Pansy sets up a projector for you all to watch a film.

As the movie started, you rotated quickly to find a spot, coincidently noticing only one left beside Mattheo. He had made sure not to make you uncomfortable, leaving enough space between you both, as you squeezed in beside him, laying on your stomach. Laying side by side, your shoulder grazing him as you fiddled with the sleeve of your shirt.

Throughout the movie, you couldn’t stop fiddling, slipping your thumb in and out of the makeshift hole you had made. Mattheo lay his hands out in front of him, his eyes drawn to the movement of your fingers fidgeting. He played with his own thumbs trying to focus on the screen, the urge to reach out and embrace your own hand in his.

Though with you distracted, he inched closer to you as stealthily as possible, as to not scare you away or draw any attention to himself. His eyes moved to check out for Theo, who was deeply engrossed in the movie, probably having taken an edible. His eyes moving back up to yours, as you offered him some MnMs, graciously accepting. 

Moving to put the chocolates back in the middle, you used the moment to peer at him, noticing him distracted by the movie. You were trying to act as normal as possible, feeling the way his heat flowed onto yours from the closeness of your bodies. The illumination of the lights were cast upon him, allowing you to make out his appearance under the soft glow of the fort.

Taking in the pretty colour of his mahogany eyes and the sweet shape of his rosy lips as he licked the chocolate off them. You couldn’t help but imagine what they’d be like to kiss. You had thought you were doing a good job of being discreet when Mattheo leans into you to whisper, “You're staring Ace.” His voice was quiet enough as to not capture the attention of the others.

You froze momentarily, your heart beating, not realising how close he was to your face. Before you whispered back, “You’ve got chocolate on your face.” You swallow the lump forming in your throat as you pray, your response was quick and clever enough to cover up that fact that you had been caught. You kept your eyes glued to his, trying to give off the appeal that you were being serious.

His face spreads into a cheeky grin, whispering back. “Sure, it’s not because you’re in love with me.” He had said it as a joke but realised as he watched your eyes widen that his whispering may have made it come across differently. His own brows scrunched in realisation as he makes out through the dim lights, a faint tint of redness creeping up your cheeks.

You averted your eyes back to the TV, your heart hammering as you repeated his words over in your head. You were panicking, your eyes darting over to your brother. If anyone else heard and saw your reaction, you totally would have given away your feelings for him. You chewed on your lip before you cursed at yourself, for now realizing by not replying you were making the situation look worse. You look back at him, the small amount of firewhiskey flowing through you. “That’s very cocky of you to assume, Riddle”.

Your initial reaction to his comment gave him the confidence to nudge your shoulder slightly. “Am I wrong though?” he challenged, keeping his voice low. Though he didn’t get to hear your response as Pansy shushed the two of you, making you both look away from one another.

You could hardly concentrate on the rest of the movie after the latest turn of events. Your brain was working on overdrive to calm your anxiety. Of course he’d be the one to make your brain melt, turning you back into your fourteen old-self reminding you of when you first met him. He must think you’re insane. He’s probably laughing it up that Theo’s sister is in love with him. You felt trapped, wanting to escape, feeling like a joke. Caught up in your own panicked nightmare, the soft feeling of fingers pulls your attention, brushing against your hand.

Mattheo had rolled his eyes at Pansy, shushing them, watching the way you averted your eyes from him. His mind was buzzing at the possibility of you actually being into him. He pinched himself, harder than he expected flicking his hand in pain before resting it beside yours. In the fort's darkness, he took the impulsive decision to rest his fingertips against yours. He made the action gentle, not wanting you to react badly.

His pinky brushed against yours, and his heartbeat quickened when he felt the sudden movement of your reciprocation. He glanced up at the others, noticing no one paying any mind to the two of you, moving his gaze back to you. A small smile rested on your lips, though your eyes were glued to the movie. He couldn’t help but risk taking it further and slid his fingers into yours, rubbing his thumb over the back of your hand. 

Mattheo’s mind filled with only thoughts of you as he blankly stared at the projector. Your hand in his felt like the most natural thing, and he couldn’t believe the way he was feeling. How could such a small action reduce him to feeling like a giddy schoolboy. He couldn’t remember the last time he held someone's hand. As the movie progressed, the two of you didn’t break contact, fingers staying intertwined.

You finally turned to look at him, your eyes studying his sweet brown eyes. It was a quiet moment, but there was an unspoken understanding between them. They knew they were crossing a line, treading into dangerous territories if Theo ever found out. But the emotions shining in Mattheo’s eyes, a sly smirk playing on his lips, inflamed a desire that you knew was too good to ignore.

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[shakespearean-simp]

mattheo trying to figure out if f!reader just flirted or made fun of him

*earlier*

r: "you have an interesting way of doing things, mattheo."

*later in his dorm*

m: "interesting? INTERESTING? is she interested in me, or does she think i'm weird? am i weird? do i freak her out? what if-"

bonus:

d: "merlin, shut up already! i need my beauty sleep to look this good! *condescending huff* my father will hear about this..."

t: "mate, just go to bed...you've been at this for an hour..."

e: "just ask her out already...jeez..."

[snetofed]

"Love in the Dark"

Mattheo Riddle was never the kind of guy anyone would call a "perfect boyfriend." His reputation preceded him: reserved, dangerous, and with a gaze that seemed to read your deepest secrets effortlessly. Yet there was something about him, something that caught you from the first moment.

At first, being with Mattheo was a challenge. He wasn't someone who opened up easily. His idea of ​​a date was walking with you under the stars, in silence, with his fingers barely brushing yours. Not because he didn't want more, but because he didn't know how to show what he felt. But even in his emotional clumsiness, there was something special about the way he looked at you, as if you were the only person in the world capable of calming the storm inside him.

Mattheo was protective, sometimes to a fault. If someone looked at you the wrong way or made an out-of-place comment, his temper flared like a spark in a dry forest. But with you, he always tried to control himself. He knew you didn’t want him to fight for you, though deep down, you sometimes liked to see how much he cared about you.

Over time, Mattheo began to open up more. One night, in the Room of Requirement, as the fire lit his dark eyes, he confessed something to you that he had never told anyone:

“I’m scared of this… the way I feel about you. I’m not used to depending on anyone.”

His words were like a spell, filled with a vulnerability that few people would have believed possible in someone like him. But you didn’t judge him, you just took his hand and promised that you wouldn’t let him face his demons alone.

[etherealily]

i have to do this once more, i'm sorry

(i'll be uploading in order of most votes to least [asks and suggestions accepted because why not?] xoxo )

UPDATES:

Finnick Odair, but you're new to the Capitol's cruelties.

Finnick Odair but it's Panem's most publicized situationship.

Tangerine from Bullet Train.

Mattheo Riddle.

Nate Jacobs but he actually respects you (derogatory).

Theodore Nott.

[pizzaapeteer]

OKAY BESTIE IM HERE AND IM EXCITED TO REREAD BUT BEHOLD THIS ABOUT TO BE THR LONGEST REBLOG OF MY LIFE because every single sentence you have merged together is pure perfection!!! I wanna highlight the whole fic to through it in here cuz I just adored every single fucking word that came from your mind to create such a damn masterpiece!!! I wanna kiss your whole brain 🥹😽💛PLS EVERYONE READ THIS

It rarely felt like he could tear someone to shreds with trembling, bare hands and the dull bite of blunt nails. Ripping at them until they peeled apart, ribbon by ribbon, until there was nothing left but a miserable pile of blood-soaked skin and massacred entrails.

God your fucking descriptions have me screaming Leigh it’s so beautiful and poetic and real.

all those lessons his brother gave him, the extensive hours of learning how to compartmentalise and switch off and to not get emotional, be wiped from his brain like they had never even existed.

The small hint of Tom and Mattheo's relationship here, that they both learnt how to shut themselves out and not feel. they're so bloody alike and it hurts me so much to see that had to act like they're feelings didn't matter! 😭😭

The tradition since sixteen eeeeh my heart!!! Also I 100% feel like Mattheo has the biggest, sweet tooth ever

when you'd ultimately ended up following him with the intention of dragging them both out because you couldn't stand the thought of your best friend, or either of them really, getting manipulated by fear and undeserved loyalty into being weapons. Into becoming the monsters they had always wrongly believed, somewhere wretched and wounded deep down, that they already were

AHHHH PLEASE MY FUCKING HEART OMG, the reader following them into war only to try and SAVE THEM i adore this whole thing and want another 14k backstory on just their relationship during the war and after school!!!!!

Him not being able to say no! Ugh such a Matty move - your too pretty eyes to ever want to be responsible for making them dull. your eyes flickered just beyond his shoulder and it was lights out. The light metaphors of your spark omg

The one who reduced his angel of a best friend into a mere shadow - an empty husk cleaved in two. 😭😭😭😭this line is beautiful!

He remembered the weight of your grief hitting him like it was his own.

I absolutely love this line sm, its so powerful and just shows how fucking in love he is with you not to mention empathic ughhhhh

He pretended not to notice - to be deep in thought before he snapped his fingers and grinned. “I've got it - what about the cleaner? You never hear about anyone fucking them” “Well for starters, the cleaner is a dude.” “Even better” “He’s like seventy, Matty.” “Everybody loves a cougar - ouch!”

IM DYING PLEASE I LOVE HIM 🤭🤭🤭🤭

He had felt something expand in his chest then - a swell of warmth that had made him swallow hard. He hadn’t managed to make you angry, his attempt at getting you to work through that part of your break up had failed but the end result was undeniably better. You were smiling

PLEASE OMG WHY ID HE SO CUTE HE SUCH A LITTLE SOFTIE INSIDE

Like he’d taken a shot of pure adrenaline or liquidised sunshine. Still OBSESSED with this line. its giving she's like a shot of expresso and that is you to mattheo!!!!

Instead he croaked softly into your hair. "It's not pathetic to be weak when you need to be. Take as long as you need, I've got you."

MY POOR HEART, 😭☹️ also the fact Mattheo who would have had such a fucked-up childhood and been taught that weakness is a disease is telling her this makes me so happy

“C’mere.” He told you lowly, voice slightly rough with his anger despite how he tried to gentle it for you. awwww i love grumpy man against everyone sweet gentle giant for his girl *BANGING MY FIST ON THE TABLE* 😫

THE KISSS SCENE AHHHHH SHUT UP SHUT UP

And oh fuck, he was burning, his whole body going up like kindling and he couldn't care less if there was nothing left of him but ash afterwards. HELLO THE POETICNESS

THE ARM OVER THE SHOULDER, the “hello Steven” I’m giggling THE HEAD TILT !!!!

And if that quiet, lethal tone had been directed at Mattheo, he’d have seriously considered just fucking running for the hills - you were terrifying when somebody had the misfortune of pissing you off, a fact that had always made Tom proud and scared the other boys half to death- but he wasn't the one in danger this time and fuck, he could barely contain his delight. Amusement forcing him to bury his face into your hair when an undeniably shit-eating grin bloomed across his face. HEHHE hes so cute stop it!

HHEHEEH please not mattheo being scared of her (tottally helped inspire me for my next fic heheh) and Tom being proud stop their relationship with reader melts my heart this trio!!!

FUCK YOU STEVEN 😤😤😤😤

AHHHH I LOVE THE WAY YOU WROTE THIS SCENE LIKE HOW HES JUST SEEING ABSOLUTE RED AND RAGE AND BLACKS OUT.

There was the faint ghost of a metallic tang in his mouth, an invisible crimson film on his bone-white teeth, like Mattheo knew exactly how Steven’s blood would taste and feel if he sank them down right then and ripped his fucking throat out.

Nothing but the ferociously compulsive chant of, make him bleed, make him bleed, make him bleed.

AND THEN HER PUNCHING HER EX INSTEAD I LOVE HER SHE IS MY IDOL

when you lent forward and whispered something that Mattheo couldn’t hear but whatever it was, it made your ex gulp and nod frantically. It was so stupidly attractive and he could barely regain control of his features that had glazed over in a ravenous, unrepentant want before you rose and turned back to him, the movement lazy with self-satisfaction.

STOP I LOVED THIS PART HES SO PROUD OF HIS GIRL

THE PICK UP TO THE COUNTER EEEEEH IM FLUSTERED

“Just sweeping you off your feet, princess.” He winked and you snorted before rolling your eyes - muttering jesus, you’re such an idiot as he hunted for the first-aid kit under the kitchen sink.

“Now be a good girl and be quiet whilst I wrap this - you're being too distracting.” The way something ached and pulsed in his stomach as his mind flooded with all the other ways he could make you flush if something as simple as calling you good girl was enough to have that perfect brain of yours emptied.

“MISTELTOE” Nailed it. PLEASE again i love him, this made me die with laughter

I wanted it with you. With you. He inhaled sharply, a small noise slipping from his throat that he couldn’t stop if he tried. Those words were spinning around inside his skull like it was a carousel, all bright flashing lights and the swell of tinkling music - drowning out every other thought until it was the only one he had left. EEEEH THE CONFESSION

You huffed out a soft laugh, a lovely, almost giddy thing that made it feel like there were flowers blooming in all those hollowed out spaces between his ribs, decorating the soft vines that breached through all of his organs to join them. Suffocating him in the best way with just how much he was in love with you. “Me neither, but it's okay, we both know now.”

ahhhhhhhh omg again im live for your writing and the descriptions you use. flowers blooming in his hollowed out spaces, suffocating him in the best way with just how much he was in love with you LEIGH IM DECEASED 🫠😭

As you moaned, breathless and needy, into his mouth and he felt like you had brought down heaven and placed it in his arms. for the first time in his life, Mattheo knew what it felt like to be so full of light it could burst from him.

SHUT UPPPPP

In the end they didn’t make it. They bounced off a door frame and there was a curse hidden beneath more laughter before he muttered fuck it and laid you down right there in the hallway.

Please this made me giggling so much and the need to just fuck on the floor, god their rabid animals why is that so sexy

He watched you watch him, eyes darker than he'd ever seen them, as he lowered his mouth and pressed a gentle kiss to your clit. It made you jolt, made you whimper prettily, and Mattheo's grin was downright wicked as he murmured. “Oh, you liked that didn't you?”

😫😫😫😫🫠 FUCK! FUCK!

He reached for you without another thought, his hand leaving the unyielding grip it had on your thigh to snatch up yours, entwining both your fingers before he squeezed. Silently telling you, use me - anchor yourself to me - it’s okay, I’ve got you.

no but entwining hands during sex is so wholesome and romantic i wanna scream (thats all im doing throughout this fic just screaming)

all his lost pieces suddenly slotting into place, like you were a part of his soul he wasn’t aware he was missing until you were finally joined once more.

AND THEN THEIR SOULS ARE ENTERTIWNING!!! imma bout to faint 🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹

“Show me.” Mattheo asked roughly, more than a little desperate because you were so tight around him and he was so fucking close. Stomach quivering and flooding with golden heat. “Show me how you've touched yourself all those times you thought about this, how you made yourself come thinking about me.” Quick to grasp his hand and drag it down to where he was fucking up into you, to the place where you were soaked and aching.

That here in your arms he didn't feel like he was less and he was no longer afraid of being a disappointment to you. Not when you refused to make him feel like he had to destroy himself to match expectations created by someone else, like he fell short just by being him and not them. He had always been enough in your eyes and he didn’t know how he had ever managed to deny loving you when it had been right in front of his face the whole time. You made him glow.

ARE YOU FREAKING KIDDING ME!!! (im reacting like i havent read this before lmfao) BUT BUT THE ENDING IS ABSOULTELY PERFECT AHHHH SQUEALING THE LIGHT METAPHORES I ADORE THEM SM AND I ADORE YOU!! 🤍🫂🤍

'TILL WE TURN TO BONE | Mattheo Riddle x F!Reader

Summary: An unwanted reunion with your cheating ex forces Mattheo and you, his best friend, to confront your feelings for each other. [14.7K]

Warnings: 18+, soft smut, oral (fem receiving), piv, cheating ex, rough breakup, minor violence, insecurities, slightly feral, protective mattheo but he's soft as fuck with you 🖤

A/N: i'm back with another re-write of old fics, but this one absolutely took on a life of its own and turned into this chunky beast

He was not sure what came over him.

Mattheo had, of course, always been known for a terrible lack of impulse control, for the rapid flare of his anger that followed more often than not, but it was rarely ever like this.

It rarely felt like he could tear someone to shreds with trembling, bare hands and the dull bite of blunt nails. Ripping at them until they peeled apart, ribbon by ribbon, until there was nothing left but a miserable pile of blood soaked skin and massacred entrails.

There was simply just something that made him irrationally protective over you - something that blossomed from deep within his soul to coil tight around the stuttering flesh of his heart like tendrils of ivy.

And it didn't matter how much he denied it. The many different ways he thought of to try and explain to himself, to the friends you both shared, to absolutely everyone.

We’re just friends.

It always found a way to spectacularly burst out of him, to make his head spin like a top and all those lessons his brother gave him, the extensive hours of learning how to compartmentalise and switch off and to not get emotional, be wiped from his brain like they had never even existed.

Because it was you.

And if there was anything Mattheo absolutely loathed with every wretched fibre of his being - it was when somebody hurt you.

**

It all started when they were at honeydukes.

When they were stocking up on chocolate and sweets before buying firewhiskey afterwards because it was Friday, and they’ve had this tradition they’ve refused to let go of since they were sixteen. Films and takeout - snacks and booze - everything you need at the end of a stressful as fuck week.

You were in sweats and one of Mattheo’s old jumpers - one he once couldn’t find no matter how hard he had looked until you revealed you’d stolen it. Kept it as close as you'd so desperately wished to keep him when he’d followed Tom into the wrong side of their father's war.

Something to remember him by had you lost him for good, whether to death or to darkness.

He had been all but devastated when you'd told him - when you'd ultimately ended up following him with the intention of dragging them both out because you couldn't stand the thought of your best friend, or either of them really, getting manipulated by fear and undeserved loyalty into being weapons.

Into becoming the monsters they had always wrongly believed, somewhere wretched and wounded deep down, that they already were.

It had caused a seed of something aching and unruly to take root in his chest that still bloomed to life whenever he remembered, whenever he saw you in the worn material all these years later.

Because you glowed like this.

When you were both safe and alive after almost selling your souls to ensure it, when you wore that jumper and still looked at him with so much heartbreakingly lovely affection despite the reminder of all the terrible choices he had made along the way to here.

To you being happy and utterly at ease, trying to see just how many sweets he'd let you pile onto the already looming mountain in the basket hooked over his arm before he finally told you enough was enough.

Embarrassingly they hadn't discovered that final amount yet - he was still that bad at saying no to you after so many years. That undeniably suckered in by the sparkle of your grin and your too pretty eyes to ever want to be responsible for making them dull.

But then they did anyway.

One minute you were babbling about inventing a new snack for them to try and then your eyes flickered just beyond his shoulder and it was lights out. Your voice stolen from your throat and your glow diminished like a burning star swallowed up by the wide open maw of the ocean.

His brow furrowed and he was turning before you could stop him - expression instantly morphing to something dangerous - a dark, deadly shade of calm where the only hint of the gathering storm within him was an almost missable twitch of his jaw.

Because it was your ex.

The one you wouldn’t allow Mattheo to kill, slowly, painfully, despite everything he did. The one who reduced his angel of a best friend into a mere shadow - an empty husk cleaved in two.

He remembered the weight of your grief hitting him like it was his own, the way you couldn’t sleep and couldn’t eat and your eyes seemed in a permanent state of glassy red whilst you stared numbly at the walls of your bedroom.

He had felt lost, scared to smother you yet equally terrified of making you feel abandoned if he tried to keep his distance and in the end he had simply thought fuck it.

If you had wanted to be left alone you would have told him to leave and until that happened he had resolved himself to becoming a permanent presence at your side, dropping bags of your favourite food beside you for when you had the energy to pick through them and then slipping in the bed to curl himself around you.

Hoping if he held you tightly enough he could meld those shattered pieces of your heart back together.

You had murmured one day, voice smeared with sadness and a sense of self-loathing that had made Mattheo feel like his heart had been violently slammed against the bones of his ribs, leaving the muscle aching and bruised.

“You must think I’m pathetic.”

He had frowned, carefully turning you in his arms and dropping his chin so he could look into your eyes when he asked. “Why would I think that?”

You refused to meet his gaze however, seemingly far more interested in the old, worn fabric of his t-shirt beneath your fingertips.

“Look at me, Matty.” You had huffed, annoyed. “I’m supposed to be the best of the best, a member of the team of aurors who strike fear into dark wizards and witches everywhere, but instead I’m a fucking mess over a break up - unable to function like a normal human being just because I caught the man I thought I might marry sticking his dick in his assistant.”

He’d winced at the reminder, the memory of your devastated voice, hitching with rattled sobs, when you’d called him straight after.

Drawing back to study you then, he could still see the ghost of that raw agony, the echo of it present in your downturned lips and the bone-deep weariness lurking in your eyes. But there was also more - the stirrings of white-hot rage lurking beneath your pupils that you refused to allow to break the surface.

He'd knew you were attempting to skip over the uglier stages of your healing. Preferring to feel nothing because you have this tendency of turning your anger inward and letting it fester rather than deliver it at the feet of where it belongs.

It pissed him off to see you doing it then and so he’d switched tactics and prayed it wouldn’t backfire horrifically.

“Hey, anyone would be just as upset if they were in your position.” He shrugged casually. “I mean c’mon, an assistant? The lack of originality or imagination is just insulting.”

Mattheo felt you go deathly still - a statue in the circle of his arms - and held his breath.

“That’s what you think I should be upset about? The fact he wasn’t more imaginative about who he cheated on me with?” You questioned, incredulous.

At least you hadn’t straight up punched or hexed him.

“Not just that obviously but he could of at least been less of a stereotypical dick and fucked the head of department or something.”

“Mhm, because sleeping with the boss isn’t cliche at all?”

You were finally looking at him by then, using his chest as leverage to hover yourself above him with brows pinched like you were trying to figure out what the hell was wrong with him.

He pretended not to notice - to be deep in thought before he snapped his fingers and grinned.

“I've got it - what about the cleaner? You never hear about anyone fucking them”

“Well for starters, the cleaner is a dude.”

“Even better.”

“He’s like seventy, Matty.”

“Everybody loves a cougar - ouch!”

He jerked as you pinched his hip, arms binding tighter around your body out of reflex and causing the weak press of yours keeping you above him to buckle. His chuckle had died in his throat as you’d fallen back into him, every inch of you pressed together and your nose brushing his whilst you’d regarded him.

He had felt something expand in his chest then - a swell of warmth that had made him swallow hard. He hadn’t managed to make you angry, his attempt at getting you to work through that part of your break up had failed but the end result was undeniably better.

You were smiling.

Not a full blown grin or anything close, it was subtle - just a faint curve of your lips but it was enough to make Mattheo practically giddy, like he’d taken a shot of pure adrenaline or liquidised sunshine.

He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t missed your smile.

“I know what you’re trying to do.” You’d chastised him half-heartedly . “Arsehole.”

Mattheo huffed a soft laugh. “You love me anyway.”

He felt your fingertips at his jaw - a fleeting, hesitant touch that had him sucking in sharp breath as your gaze swirled warm.

"Yeah, I do."

A tension had bloomed between them in the following silence, his eyes searching yours before subconsciously dropping to your mouth. He breathed and you moved with him, sunk deep into his chest with his trembling exhale as your head dipped lower until he felt like he could taste you on his tongue.

It would have only taken the slightest movement to kiss you - a small lift of his chin to seal his lips over yours and drink you down the way he'd secretly wished to for years. But he couldn't.

It would be wrong when you were in so much pain, your judgement clouded, even if it was what you thought you wanted.

He could kiss you and you'd regret it - you'd be mortified no doubt, either blaming yourself for using him to make yourself feel better or resent him for taking advantage of you in such a vulnerable state. And he couldn't bear the thought of either.

“C’mere.” He murmured instead. The tips of his fingers trailing over the swell of your cheek before they cupped the back of your head to tuck you back into him. He wondered if you could feel his pulse where your mouth skimmed his skin, if the wild thrum against your lips gave away how easily you could affect him without truly even trying.

The air was still heavy - still swollen thick with want and longing and the confusion he could feel in the trembling drum of your fingers over his heart.

Mattheo wanted to kick himself, he hadn't wanted to be another person who made you doubt yourself and you never would if you knew just how desperately he was clenching his jaw to stop himself from spewing his fucking feelings everywhere.

To stop himself saying, "If you want me to kiss you I will - I'll kiss you until I can't fucking breathe, until my damn lungs burst - just not when you're grieving for another guy. Come to me in a month, several months - a year. I'll wait and I'll kiss you until you can't remember any other name but mine."

Instead he croaked softly into your hair. "It's not pathetic to be weak when you need to be. Take as long as you need, I've got you."

**

You healed eventually.

You suffered and you overcame it - cried yourself dry before deciding one day that enough was enough and you bloomed once more. A wildflower sprouting from the rotting corpse of your ruined relationship.

There wasn't any mention of what had nearly happened between you and Mattheo, and he was okay with it.

He'd dealt with the fact you were probably just seeking comfort - that you didn't feel the same - because at the end of the day having you in his life as his best friend and nothing more was infinitely better than living without you.

And as long as you were happy, as long as he kept getting to see that glow in your eyes and the dazzling beam of your smile then Mattheo was happy too.

But now you weren’t.

You were looking at the boy who had once upon a time taken your happiness and cruelly obliterated it and he could see you crumbling that little bit. The ghosts of that old pain and humiliation coming back to twist the loveliness of your features into something shadowed. Haunted.

He reached out to touch your hand, drawing soft lines from your wrist to the tips of your fingers before he tangled them together.

Whether it was to steady you or lead you away he wasn't sure.

He wouldn't get the chance to decide because all of a sudden that voice was splitting through the air. Your name yelled across the brightly-coloured shop in such a way that it instantly felt like a grater being thrust over Mattheo’s nerves.

You blanched. Fingers tightening around his as your eyes darted from over his shoulder again and then back to his in horror.

"Oh shit - what the fuck do I do? He's coming over."

"Break his nose?"

"I'm serious, Matt."

"Oh, well in that case then a well-aimed crucio should work wonders."

"Mattheo!"

It was the panic lacing your voice that did it - that made him lose any real humour and rationality whilst his eyes flickered between your rapidly approaching ex and the insecurity bleeding through every move you made.

You were trying to smooth over your hastily shoved up hair, picking nervously at the way your clothes hung, and it took everything in Mattheo to not slap your free hand away. To not snap at you to stop it because he couldn't understand why you didn't see how soul-wrenchingly gorgeous you were no matter how you dressed.

He glared at your ex again - close enough now that Mattheo got the perfect view of him realising just exactly who you were standing with as his expression curdled.

Good.

Let it stick in his side like a cursed blade that Mattheo was still a permanent fixture alongside you, let it scrape against bone and nick at his shrivelled excuse of a heart that he had failed spectacularly in trying to drive a wedge between the two of you - something you had never seemed to realise but Mattheo had sniffed out immediately.

He watched the way the other boy's eyes narrowed at your hand in his, something disturbingly possessive lurking in those pale, soulless depths and Mattheo could have snarled at the sight. Teeth bared like the feral beast you sometimes liked to joke he was.

Not that he gave a damn if that was how he appeared, he'd gladly appear every bit the monster if it meant that this waste of oxygen stopped believing he had any right to look at you in that way - or any kind of way ever again.

“C’mere.” He told you lowly, voice slightly rough with his anger despite how he tried to gentle it for you, and his heart dove into a maddening pace at how easily you slipped closer and into his arms regardless. The way you happily let him tug you into his chest like you craved the closeness as he always did.

You blinked up at him and all that fury, that volatile energy crackling in his veins, almost bled out of him completely when the trust in your eyes made his breath catch. His lungs sputtering at the absolute look of faith that no matter what, Mattheo wouldn't let a single damn thing hurt you whilst he stood there breathing.

But then you were murmuring his name, soft as whisper, and he swallowed hard as his eyes drifted to your lips. His hand leaving yours to brush permanently bruised knuckles along your jaw.

“You’re so fucking beautiful.” He sighed, desperately trying to ignore the fierce ache in his chest when your eyes widened - lashes fluttering in surprise. “I won’t stand here and let him make you doubt yourself, not again, not when he’s the one who fucked up by letting someone as incredible as you go. Let me show him what he’s missing.”

And then he pressed his mouth to yours.

It was chaste at first, innocent, a barely-there touch to test the waters in case he was crossing an irredeemable line and you decided to shove him away, disgusted.

You didn't.

You returned it almost immediately. Soft lips moving gently beneath his own, a hesitant exploration that had Mattheo kiss drunk far too easily and seeking without thought to deepen it. The gentle nudge of his tongue made you gasp into his mouth, made your fingers scrape up his chest and around the back of neck to twist into his hair and press him closer.

And oh fuck, he was burning, his whole body going up like kindling and he couldn't care less if there was nothing left of him but ash afterwards. There was a broken sort of noise that echoed in his ears and he dazedly realised it had come from him just before your tongue brushed against his and he forgot everything.

How could he remember anything when there was no room left between them, Mattheo gathering you in his arms until he had you utterly sealed to him. The heat of you searing him despite the many layers and even then there was a part of him that craved you closer, like if he could crack himself open and let you crawl inside, he would.

He’d give you everything he could as long as you kept kissing him like that, your pretty soft mouth sounds swirling in his ears as it became something more hungered.

If he wasn’t careful he’d end up lost to you completely.

Maybe he already was, because it wasn’t until he heard an obnoxious voice pipe up right next to them that he realised just how utterly consumed he’d allowed himself to become.

“Am I interrupting something?”

You tensed and he kissed you once, twice more. Sweet brushes over swollen lips that kept your attention solely on him even as his mouth finally parted from yours achingly slow. His thumb trailed a path to your mouth where he rubbed at the spit-slick shine left there and grinned golden with pride as you shuddered with hooded eyes under the new attention.

“Ahem.”

It seemed your ex was still as arrogant and impatient as ever and it only made Mattheo’s grin morph into an insufferably satisfied smirk when he watched a flood of deep-seething irritation burst behind your pupils.

He turned then before you could say anything, slinging an arm around your shoulders to tuck you tight against his side - an unnecessary display after the show you’d both put on but he was positive it was worth it when the vein in your ex’s forehead seemed dangerously close to rupturing.

“Hello, Steven” Mattheo drawled, his voice dropping to something dark and silken, head tilting as his mocking stare glided over the man before him. “Did no one ever teach you it's rude to interrupt? I was under the impression that your irritating family valued manners and kissing the arse of their betters above all else. Daddy must be so disappointed that all that money he threw at the ministry to get you a job was a total waste if you can't even remember something so simple.”

For a moment he thought Steven would back off, abandon whatever stunt he was trying to pull by approaching you when he heard the venom in Mattheo’s tone, the shade of threat lingering just beneath the feigned calm, and shifted warily.

But apparently he had either forgotten the kind of person Mattheo could be, the kind of person that you could be, or he had deluded himself into thinking nothing would happen to him in such a public space.

Because he decided to ignore the blatant hostility radiating towards him with nothing more than a dismissive scoff, a disgusted glance barely thrown at Mattheo before he focused on you.

“Hardly. Unlike Riddle here, who's still in the same position he was when he started despite his families ‘influence’, I've actually just been promoted.” He replied smugly, condescension rife in his tone as he added. “You're looking at the new head of the department of magical transportation.”

You snorted at that and Mattheo felt the corner of his lips twitch despite his irritation at your ex’s jab, his pathetic attempt at a display of power. He felt the laugh bubble in his chest and surge up his throat where he caught it and refused to let it slip free when you muttered a less than impressed ‘how riveting’.

“What about you?” Steven asked, and when he made a move as if he was about to step towards you, Mattheo's response was immediate. The shift of his body to tuck in you tighter and put more of himself in the way, making your ex stop in his tracks.

Huffing, “have you finally chosen something more suitable for a career than running around after criminals? You look better than you did when we were together, always coming home filthy and bruised.”

He felt you flinch against him like the words had knocked an old wound, like they had sharp nails that picked and dug at a scab until it was torn open and bleeding once more.

This was not the first time, Mattheo guessed, that you had taken a hit from this boy who was supposed to love you about your career, your occasionally roughed up appearance after a particularly hard day. And Mattheo was suddenly livid.

Rage had begun to spit in his belly, it snapped in his veins and scorched at the chambers of his heart that were full of every aspect of you that had ever been or would be. It made his breath still, every single part of his being tensing until it seemed like raw fury would burst him apart at the seams.

But then your hand was on his stomach like you knew, like you knew without a warm, grounding touch that the boy you were already holding so sweetly would violently crack and explode if he did not have that extra part of you connected to him.

He felt himself deflate as that hand slid slowly upwards, as it reached for that space above his heart and covered it lightly, tenderly. Fingertips tapping once, twice, a third and fourth time, in a quiet, steady rhythm for his galloping heart to follow.

And all the while you let the rest of your attention land where Steven remained, glaring at your hand on Mattheo's chest as if repulsed by the sight. Your own stare was flinty, cold and unyielding, as you chose to ignore the slight and simply responded,

“Thanks. But maybe don’t let Elvie hear you say that or has she come to her senses after finding you hanging out the back of someone else too?”

And if that quiet, lethal tone had been directed at Mattheo, he’d have seriously considered just fucking running for the hills - you were terrifying when somebody had the misfortune of pissing you off, a fact that had always made Tom proud and scared the other boys half to death- but he wasn't the one in danger this time and fuck, he could barely contain his delight.

Amusement forcing him to bury his face into your hair when an undeniably shit-eating grin bloomed across his face.

Steven, however, only tutted at you.

Annoyance briefly flashing through the haughty look on his face like he couldn't fathom how you were still not over it before he chastised. “Not this again. I told you that was just a one time thing - that I was just stressed with work and she was there. You didn’t have to make it into such a big deal.”

Mattheo stiffened, smile gone and head snapping in Steven's direction like a hound who had just scented blood. “A big deal?” He echoed, incensed, just as you straightened to your full height and your once mild expression shifted to something flat - a touch too calm.

“We were talking about a future together.” Your voice was blunt, deadpan and brittle, the laugh that followed somehow worse. “Buying a house and getting married, what kind of reaction did you expect when I found you fucking your assistant.”

“I expected you to understand that I had needs and you hadn’t been there. I was under a lot of stress and you were always too busy with ‘your boys’.”

Wait a fucking minute.

Him and the others had barely seen you at all before the break up. The day you returned and found out about the cheating you had just spent the week with them but that had been the first visit in months - Mattheo calling you half frantic because Tom’s nightmares had returned and his once apathetic brother had spiralled hard.

You had dropped everything to come running and it must have bothered the selfish, insecure, pathetic excuse of a wizard in front of you that much that he’d immediately done the worst thing he could just to spite you.

The realisation bred a whole new brand of anger, the sheer vehemence of it smashing against the walls of Mattheo’s skull, screaming through his chest to rattle the bones of his rib cage whilst he fought breathlessly to lock it down.

You, on the other hand, looked suddenly ill - stricken as your train of thought clearly followed the same path that his own had stumbled down only seconds before.

“I barely saw them.” You whispered before a snarl twisted your lovely features into something murderous. “I barely saw them because you always complained that I spent too much time with them and not enough with you. Because you accused me of being too close and having feelings for them.”

Steven pursed his lips at that, arching a cool brow as he gestured at where you were still snug beneath Mattheo’s arm - your own snaked around his waist in what he knew was an effort to ground yourself and not the incriminating evidence of romantic intimacy that your ex thought it was.

“Well it seems like I was right after all, doesn’t it?”

Oh, Mattheo was done.

He'd had suspicions that Steven hadn’t liked him, that he hadn’t approved of your friendship.

But to hear that he hadn’t liked you being friends with any of them, that he effectively did his best to keep you away from the boys who were your family whilst accusing you of potentially being the unfaithful one, made Mattheo so unbelievably delirious with rage that he almost couldn’t breathe from the force of it.

“You’re a piece of shit” He seethed, ignoring your warning murmur of his name as he dropped his arm from your shoulders and took a menacing step forward.

He watched the slight widening of Steven's eyes in panic before he attempted to cover his weakness with a pitiful scoff, uselessly trying to make himself look more intimidating when faced with Mattheo’s broad frame.

“Who do you think y-” Steven hissed but in a blur Mattheo surged forward, shoving the other boy into the shelves behind him with such force that the jars of sweets rattled and tilted, threatening to fall around them whilst he pinned him with both hands fisted in his collar.

“You’re a fucking piece of shit.” He reiterated harshly, voice rough, darkened with all the violence that had been steadily unlatching inside him. “She has always been too good for you. You knew it, we knew it, the only one who didn't realise was her and that’s why you were so fucking desperate to keep her away from us. Because you knew she would have figured it out a hell of a lot sooner with us right by her side.”

“I wanted her away from your miserable pining.” Steven spat and he froze. Shock, like a punch to the face, momentarily making him loosen his grip and your ex took quick advantage, shoving forward with what seemed to be all of his strength and knocking Mattheo a few steps back in your direction.

He laughed cruelly as he took in Mattheo’s expression awash with surprise, a spiteful gleam in his eyes.

“What? You didn’t think that I knew you were in love with her? How could I not with the way you constantly trailed after her like an adoring puppy.” He sneered and Mattheo’s stomach dropped when he heard your sharp intake of breath. “Tell me, how does it feel to have someone else's scraps? Though I guess you’re used to that now aren’t you - always second behind your brother in school and your parent's favour, so why should it be surprising that the girl you wanted didn’t want you first either.”

There was the faint ghost of a metallic tang in his mouth, an invisible crimson film on his bone-white teeth, like Mattheo knew exactly how Steven’s blood would taste and feel if he sank them down right then and ripped his fucking throat out.

The thought drowned out everything else in his head, muddling it all and clouding his vision in a veil of red until there was nothing left. Nothing but the ferociously compulsive chant of, make him bleed, make him bleed, make him bleed.

And when everything came swimming back through that familiar fog of darkness he hadn’t even realised he had lost it so violently until he was suddenly face to face with you.

Until Steven was back to being sprawled against the vivid green shelving and you were wedged between his quaking frame and Mattheo’s heaving one.

His sudden burst of wrath was still a wild, unruly thing - still tearing around inside his head, a vicious, incandescent roaring that you had stopped him from repeatedly smashing his fist into your ex’s face until his skin swelled an ugly bluish purple and split. Until the snap of bone was enough to satisfy his hunger for retribution.

But you were there and your hand was clasped around the fist Mattheo had unknowingly reeled back. The other one had smoothed out from its stern grip on his bicep to sweep up, up, up until you were cupping his jaw and brushing your thumb over his cheek.

And once you saw you had gained his attention you drew his forehead lovingly to yours, voice calm, devastatingly gentle, as you told him. “Matty don’t listen to him okay, listen to me, he’s not worth it. Everything you ever said about him was right and he’s not worth it. I refuse to let you get arrested because of a worthless piece of shit like him.”

You gripped his chin, pressing the softest kiss to his mouth without the slightest hesitation and his heart spasmed. “Let’s just go home, yeah? I don’t want to waste any more time on him. Not when I just want to be with you.”

The last part was a whisper, an intimacy for him alone, and every part of him melted with it. Like it was a balm to the raw edges of all that howling rage that you seemed to only ever be capable of providing.

“Okay.” He answered simply, hoarsely, and you beamed as he tugged the hand still wrapped around his raised fist to his mouth and planted a ridiculously sweet kiss to your knuckles before stepping back and pulling you with him.

He began to lead you away, ignoring the way other customers weren't even hiding that they'd been watching, their jars of sweets held in limp, uninterested hands as they whispered excitedly between themselves.

Instead, he turned slightly one last time to call over his shoulder to your ex. “I would say see you around, but I’d rather avada myself before that happens.”

“Fuck you, Riddle.” Steven spat back, vindictive in his humiliation. “You’re pathetic, she’s using you and you're so desperate for someone to love you that you can’t even fucking see it. She’ll chew you up and spit you back out and you’ll probably still be begging her to let you fuck her, you sad wast-”

You slammed your fist into his nose before he could finish and his insults shattered into a high pitched wail of agony that echoed through the sweetshop.

Mattheo hadn’t even seen you move - couldn’t even remember feeling you tug your hand from his, you had been that fast. A vengeful crash of lightning cased in bone and flesh, striking before anyone else had time to blink.

He watched you with his mouth agape as you shook your hand out - flexing your fingers with a look of dark, fleeting curiosity at the blood sprayed across your skin before your gaze swung back to the boy whining on the ground at your feet.

You stalked closer and he cowered - pride swelling in Mattheo’s chest at the power radiating from every inch of you.

He admired it as you dropped smoothly into a crouch, as the venom Steven prepared to weakly spit withered and died on his tongue when you lent forward and whispered something that Mattheo couldn’t hear but whatever it was, it made your ex gulp and nod frantically.

It was so stupidly attractive and he could barely regain control of his features that had glazed over in a ravenous, unrepentant want before you rose and turned back to him, the movement lazy with self-satisfaction.

“Ready to go?” You grinned.

Salazar help him, he was so fucking in love with you.

Mattheo’s face fell then.

If you had heard what your ex had said and believed him, then you knew it too.

Fuck.

**

The journey home was tense.

Did you know? Was he supposed to ask or did he wait to see if you mentioned anything?

He tried studying you out of the corner of his eye as he walked, the fading sun and the flickering of the streetlights coming to life, illuminating the lovely planes of your face but little else.

No hint of what you were feeling - if you had any feelings at all towards what you had possibly overheard.

Even watching you now he felt at a loss - like a code he’d always been able to decipher had all of a sudden switched up on him and he didn’t even know where to start cracking it again.

You moved around his kitchen easily, pulling out bowls and glasses for whatever you could scavenge together to make up for the fact you'd had to leave everything behind that you’d picked out at Honeydukes.

There was a domesticity to the way you were so comfortable in his space, like you belonged there, like it had always been your own as much as it was his and it made something golden fizz through Mattheo's veins at how right it felt.

His attention drifting whilst he revelled in the warmth of it and he didn’t realise you were talking to him until you were stepping close to wave a hand in his face.

“Earth to Matty.” You laughed and he blinked, startled, before offering a sheepish grin that soon fell in concern as he gently grabbed your wrist.

A noise of discontent rose in his throat whilst he inspected your hand. “You’re hurt, you should have told me.” He accused softly and before you could shrug it off he was letting go just to drop his hands to your waist - lifting you on to the dark, glossy countertop with a shameless grin at your surprised yelp of his name.

“Just sweeping you off your feet, princess.” He winked and you snorted before rolling your eyes - muttering jesus, you’re such an idiot as he hunted for the first-aid kit under the kitchen sink.

“Haven’t you played the knight in shining armour enough for one night.” You teased, watching him playfully when he returned to dump a small box on the counter before slotting himself between your thighs. “Seriously Matt, it’s just a few scrapes, I’ll live.”

“Not if you get an infection, now stay still.” He grumbled - pulling out wipes, antiseptic cream and a roll of bandage before picking up your hand to inspect the damage again. “You got him good.”

A small, cheeky smile graced your mouth at his praise, proud and utterly captivating. “Yeah well, serves him right for thinking he can say shit about you.”

It took everything in him to bite back a wicked grin at that, hiding his elation as he used his teeth to tear open a wipe - using the distraction of tending to your hand to ignore your gaze on him - the way his body was reacting to your proximity now that he knew what it felt like to have you pressed into him. Kissing him.

“Remind me why you aren't healing this with magic?”

“Punishment.”

“For what?” You demanded petulantly, offence flaring in your gaze before the little bright burst of pain from the wipe mellowed it back out to something slightly pathetic.

Something so endearing that Mattheo didn't know whether to laugh or to lay down a flurry of apologetic kisses just shy of the stinging cut.

Instead, he tilted his head up and shot you an amused glance as he tossed the wipe and grabbed the cream, taking greater effort than before to dab it gently over your broken skin. “You know the rules, Rocky. You fight outside of work and you have to heal up like a muggle so you think twice before doing it again.”

“Those are the rules for you.” You huffed back at him, a half hearted scowl on your face that he definitely wanted to kiss until it melted into a pretty, satisfied grin beneath his lips. Fuck, he was pathetic. “You're the one who can't go a day without punching someone, you psycho, this was a one time thing.”

“So you think it should be one rule for one and not for others - that's not very lawfully fair of you. Are you sure you should be an auror?”

Your head fell back in exasperation. “I hate you.” You muttered, but it was too fond, too drenched in affection for Mattheo to react any other way besides chuckling warmly.

“No you don't.” He smirked, voice devilish, taunting, as his eyes rose to meet yours briefly once more. “Now be a good girl and be quiet whilst I wrap this - you're being too distracting.”

Silence followed.

Just like he'd asked for because you were too busy staring down at him in surprise. The moment lasting a little too long to be ignored as you blinked, lips parted ever so slightly, and he hated the blazing heat that rushed through his entire body at the realisation he had made you flustered.

The way something ached and pulsed in his stomach as his mind flooded with all the other ways he could make you flush if something as simple as calling you good girl was enough to have that perfect brain of yours emptied. That whip-sharp tongue falling silent.

Salazar help him, how was he supposed to concentrate like this?

He bit down on a groan and attempted to force the thoughts from the head, refusing to pay attention to anything other than the texture of the bandage as he rolled it out in his hands, as he cut off the amount he needed and distractedly took your hand back into his own.

He felt like he was having trouble breathing properly, his blood refusing to cool no matter how much he willed it, your closeness to him not helping when all he could see in his mind was the way something had flashed in your eyes, quicker than even he could decipher, and how he was almost desperate to know what it was.

His heart would not stay at a normal pace and as it stuttered and beat itself violently against the cage of his ribs, he wondered if it was possible to die from something like this. From the desire and longing trapped and blistering beneath his skin, a wicked hot thing that was trying to burn him from the inside out.

Matty?” You asked quietly and it took everything in him not to jump, not to flush guiltily as he made a quiet noise of acknowledgement, a rumbled hmm in his throat before he glanced up at you curiously beneath the dark fan of his lashes when the silence stretched on and you didn’t continue.

You were chewing your lip - a hesitant look on your face - and there was barely a chance for him to swallow down the excruciating urge he felt to gently tug it free with hid thumb, to soothe away the rawness with soft touches and his mouth pressed to yours.

Barely a chance for his stomach to drop as his frazzled mind finally registered fuck, this is it, when you suddenly blurted. “Why did you kiss me?”

Because I couldn’t stand to see you breaking all over again when you’ve come so far.

Because you deserved to make your shithead ex feel as insignificant as he made you feel.

Because you needed my help and I’d give my fucking soul if it mean’t you never had to doubt yourself that way again.

He ran each reason through his mind and just as quickly discarded every one. They were too revealing - those truths that he weighed on the tip of his tongue too heavily threaded with another.

I love you.

So instead he shoved it all back, his nervous gaze dropping back to where he was looping the bandage tightly around your hand whilst he scrambled to come up with something that wouldn't make you too suspicious.

“Mistletoe.”

Nailed it.

“Mistletoe?” You echoed, the choked off noise of barely-restrained laughter colouring your tone.

So much for avoiding suspicion, but maybe he could still work with this.

“Mhm, saw it and had a moment of divine inspiration. You're welcome.”

“Matty, it's February.”

He shrugged, a smirk tugging at his lips as he carefully tied off the bandage. “Maybe they forgot about it, not everyone has the decorations down practically a day later like you, weirdo.”

“Yeah because you make me put them up in November, Mattheo.” You shot back.

And then there was silence - a heartbeat moment where they just stared at each other, all soft, warm smiles and breathy laughter and when did you get so close, because Mattheo was sure as hell when this conversation started you weren’t right there.

Not right where he could see every individual fleck of colour in your eyes and the way your lashes fluttered as his breath fanned over your lips.

He wanted to resist but there wasn’t a damn thing he could do to stop himself.

It was like you were staring right through him and he was helpless but to spill everything - to peel back his skin and crack apart his ribs to let you take a peek at the mess of his heart just so he could sate that unsatisfied gleam of curiosity you held.

“I hate him.” He declared with such sudden vehemence that it had your eyebrows raising and your lips parting in surprise. “I hate that he hurt you and I couldn’t do a damn thing to stop it. I hate that he made you feel like you were worthless and I hate that he can make you doubt yourself even after all this time because you are fucking incredible and an absolute saint and lets be honest we’d all probably be dead or at least significantly more traumatised without you.”

A small chuckle slipped past your lips then, watery and thin, and the sight of your trembling smile and glistening eyes made him ache - made him yearn to wrap his arms around you and cradle you flush against his chest.

Instead he took your face into the warm cup of his hands and swept his thumbs in tender strokes over the swell of your cheeks, resisting every cell in his body that was screaming at him all the while to kiss you there and then until you were both breathless.

“Do you know what I think I hate the most?” He whispered, shuddering slightly as your fingers trailed gently up his arms to rest around his wrists. “That he had everything. Everything I ever wanted and he threw it away like it was nothing. I could kill him for that alone.”

You sucked in a breath and he forced himself to hold your searching gaze whilst his heart threatened to erupt. “Matt,” You eventually croaked, eyes troubled and brows knit into a soft frown. “I know today has been a lot, but please, don’t say anything you don’t really mean.”

"When have I ever?"

You hummed a half-hearted acknowledgement, still unsure. “Are you trying to tell me that you- that what Steven said? Was that true?”

He had to tell you.

He'd gotten this far, gotten to experience this semblance of relief blossoming in his gut because he’d coveted these feelings for so long and despite the fact he knew it was going to hurt catastrophically in the end, it also felt so fucking good to finally be honest with you.

And maybe it was wishful thinking but if he just got it out for you to tell him that you didn't feel the same then he could maybe find a way to not make things weird and move the fuck on.

“Before I answer that.” He coughed, clearing his throat, mouth suddenly dry as bone. Fuck, this was terrifying. “I need you to know that I’m not expecting anything from you. I know you don’t feel the same and it’s okay - I’m okay with it. I don’t want to lose you so if I get it out in the open, we can work past it and nothing has to change.”

“Matty.” You murmured, before one of your hands leaves his to cradle his jaw.

His eyes fluttered closed.

Now or never.

“I love you.” It punched out of him, powerful like so many of Mattheo’s emotions had always been. A blunt force, or too much, as some people had told him and he couldn't help but be petrified that after it all you might be one of them.

“I’ve loved you since we were kids, I just never realised.” He continued, rooted in place despite every fibre of his being telling him to bolt, because the words just kept coming. Jumbled and tumbling, near frantic to make you understand.

“At least not until you were with Steven and I saw all the ways I would treat you better if it was me being allowed to love you and not him. And then it hit me just how much I wanted it to be me, I was just too scared to do anything about it. I’m sorry.”

When he finally fell silent he didn't dare move or even look at you for the first moment, nor the one that followed. You had seen Mattheo in just about every state there was to see a person, but never, until right then, had he ever felt so vulnerable. Cracked open and so completely and irrevocably at someone else's mercy as his emotions bled from him to stain you both.

It was the brush of you against him that startled him back to life. The tender caress of your fingers over his cheek, nose nudging his, that gathered the little courage he had left to open his eyes again, to face the aftermath and look at you.

At the way your lips were clamped together in a trembling press, eyes shining and pained.

And for a sickeningly horrifying moment he thought that he had upset you so badly that you were about to cry, that his feelings were so wholly unwanted that he was hurting you, breaking your heart by having them and ruining everything you had been to each other before he had opened his mouth.

Numbly, he let his hands fall away from your face before taking a step back when a heavy wave of nausea rocked into him.

But then your expression changed, it morphed into something mystified - a touch incredulous.

“And you think that I don’t feel the same?” You questioned. Nose scrunching in confusion and your voice, merlin, your voice, it was so quiet, so full of disbelief that it felt impossible, despite how desperately he tried, to not fold all of his hope into it.

You didn't give him a chance to answer, not that he could have in any distinguishable capacity. Not with his heart lodged somewhere up in his throat.

“You think that I haven't loved you from the moment you came crashing into my life?” You shook your head, the words cracking on your tongue, flooded with emotion as the confession bubbled up out of you and all Mattheo could do was blink - stunned. “You think that I haven't imagined kissing you a thousand times over and not just to get back at some bloody ex?”

“For salazar’s sake, Mattheo, I practically followed you everywhere. School, the war, and now here. Did it never occur to you that I only started dating Steven because in all that time, you never seemed interested in me like that? I thought you didn't love me like I loved you, and so I tried to move on, but I never wanted all the forever stuff with him. Not at first anyway. I always wanted it with you.”

I wanted it with you.

With you.

With you.

With you.

He inhaled sharply, a small noise slipping from his throat that he couldn’t stop if he tried. Those words were spinning around inside his skull like it was a carousel, all bright flashing lights and the swell of tinkling music - drowning out every other thought until it was the only one he had left.

“I - I didn’t –” He stammered, a little bewildered, and your expression melted into something so sweet and understanding that it broke his heart to think he'd ever doubted you.

You reached for him then and he all but stumbled back to you in his desperation to meld himself against you. To bury his face in the crook of your neck and nudge his shaking hands beneath your jumper so he could curve them around your bare sides, seeking out the warmth of you to ground himself because he felt like he'd been totally unmoored.

You huffed out a soft laugh, a lovely, almost giddy thing that made it feel like there were flowers blooming in all those hollowed out spaces between his ribs, decorating the soft vines that breached through all of his organs to join them. Suffocating him in the best way with just how much he was in love with you. “Me neither, but it's okay, we both know now.”

It was almost too much, after all Mattheo had always been utterly unused to to the act of loving and being loved out in the open. No masks or repression or insecurities with needle-sharp claws dug into his brain to hold him back.

It almost felt overwhelming in its rawness, like a violent kind of vulnerability, and yet he couldn't force himself to hide the embarrassingly stupid grin that tugged at his lips at that, lashes fluttering as he sighed at the gentle pass of your hand over his curls before humming a choked, but coy, “Do we?”

“Uh huh.”

“Are you sure?” He teased softly, something sparking in his chest when he felt the way you shivered beneath his hands as he drew a line with his nose up to your jaw. “Because I don't think you actually said whatever it is we're both supposed to know.”

Your cheek rubbed against his with the mild shake of your head that followed then, breath hitching on a chuckle, a knowing little sound that told him you were on to him immediately.

Yet still, you indulged him, as you always had.

A hand clutched at his shoulder whilst the other slipped from his hair to dip beneath the collar of his hoodie, fingers toying with the clasp of his necklace as you asked, voice full of faux confusion. “Didn't I? I could have swore I did.”

“Nope.” He told you quietly, forlornly, his tone heavy with mourning though the smile he held when he slid his nose over your cheek so he could graze it against yours was anything but. “You asked if I'd thought about it which I don't think is quite the same, do you?”

Your eyes shone, lips twitching into the loveliest grin that Mattheo had ever seen. “I think you're impossible.” You whispered and he wondered if it was possible for his heart to lurch out of his chest, for it to dive through his bones and his skin and straight into yours, because it sure as hell felt like it wanted to when you added. “But not wrong, at least not about this.”

“I'm never wrong.” He rasped and when your hand found its way to his jaw, thumb trailing sweetly back and forth against his too flushed skin, he leaned into the touch like he was starving for it.

His entire body almost swaying into yours with how gone he was for the way you were looking at him, how your fingers touched his face like he was something precious as you cupped his cheeks.

“More like, eighty five percent of the time?”

“You wound me.”

“I love you.” You corrected him cheekily, gaze twinkling when his eyes widened and god, he must have looked as dazed, as utterly dumbstruck, as he felt because you laughed. A bright burst that made his heart swell and his cheeks tinge pink. “I love you, Mattheo Riddle, I always have and I'll continue to do so long after we've both turned to bone.”

And then you kissed him.

You kissed him and he drowned in it - lost to the pure radiance that glowed in his veins and the tender heat of your mouth crushed to his. The hand that threaded itself through the curls at the nape of his neck, tangling within and dragging him closer.

His touch fled from your hip and the ladder of your ribs to cradle your cheeks, gently tilting your face up to his own as he did so and it all burned so fucking sweet that if anyone was to ask Mattheo to pinpoint the exact moment he fell to ruin, he would be incapable of providing such an answer.

He could only tell them that he had.

That he was magnificently lost to you as the kiss deepened and you unravelled him with each brush of your lips against his. As you moaned, breathless and needy, into his mouth and he felt like you had brought down heaven and placed it in his arms. Pressed it into his skin until, for the first time in his life, Mattheo knew what it felt like to be so full of light it could burst from him.

He could do this forever he decided - he could die with an appeased soul despite the atrocities of his past when he had the salvation of your devotion. The fire of your hunger burning away all those ugly, dark parts of him until he shone.

You shivered when he wound an arm around you, wrenching you firmly against the solid press of his body as you clung to him and his name poured from your lips like a prayer. An offering.

A softly gasped, “Mattheo.” that dripped golden pleasure down his spine.

And he must have made a noise - some wrecked, low sounding thing in the back of his throat - because you pulled away just a fraction, eyes flickering over his face. Drinking down his hungered expression, his blown-out gaze that slipped from your own to your mouth before he dragged it slowly, heatedly, back up again.

“Do you want me?” You whispered, your hand sweeping over his side and to the bottom of his back, dipping beneath the layers of his hoodie and shirt to splay across flushed skin.

He could barely focus, his forehead falling to yours as he shivered beneath the gentle stroke of your fingers. He felt the touch like it was inside him - like they had sunk through flesh, tissue and bone to fist around his heart.

Merlin.

“Of course I do.” He rasped.

“Then show me, please.”

He sucked in a breath before surging forward to kiss you then, his lips crashing against yours like the world would spin off its axis if he didn’t have his mouth on you.

It was nothing like the kisses he had ever given before, raw desire making his head spin, making him a little clumsy, messy, but it still had your breath catching in your throat.

It had your body melting into his and your hands flying to clutch at the slopes of his shoulders as your surprise dissolved into something hungrier, the sensation of his mouth moving over yours dragging you into delirium with him.

He was gripped with a singular, overwhelming urgency to devour you entirely - the need possessing him until there was nothing else but you and the feel of your mouth under his - and it took a herculean type of strength to remove himself the centimetre it took to ask huskily against your lips. “Are you sure that’s what you want?”

You sighed sweetly into him, the hand in his hair drawing him back so you could kiss him again, a little more demanding before your lips slipped to the corner of his mouth, his chin, his jaw, sliding down his throat to suck a bruise at the skin before dropping a sweet kiss over the mark that made his lungs stutter.

It had a groan tearing through Mattheo’s chest when you pressed yourself against him so he could feel the way your chest heaved - the way you were trembling for him. “I want you to make me yours, Matty.” You breathed. “Just like I always have been.”

And salazar help him, how could he ever refuse you.

So he hauled you forward off the counter and into his arms. His mouth recaptured yours and he let you part his lips, let you flick your tongue, quick and dirty, against his own and lick the needy groan from his mouth as he stumbled. Attempting to navigate you both to the sofa that he swore was suddenly a million fucking miles away whilst you laughed into the kiss.

In the end, you didn’t make it.

They bounced off a door frame and there was a curse hidden beneath more laughter before he muttered fuck it and laid you down right there in the hallway.

Your back hit the floor and immediately he was stretching himself over you - caging you in - his hips nestled into the cradle of your own in a filthy, slow grind that had you panting against his mouth. A keening noise sounding in the back of your throat that made Mattheo’s head go fuzzy.

He pulled back an inch then and stared - tried to brand this image in his brain because god, it was doing something indescribable to him.

Because it was you, gazing back at him with eyes darker than he'd ever seen them, hungry and wanting. Lips kiss-bruised and parted as you sucked in a sharp breath when he rolled his hips and caught you just right. Looking so fucking sinful that it had him swallowing down a choked moan.

Mattheo was almost embarrassed by just how close the sight drove him. There was a swell of something unforgivingly hot behind his ribs, searing in his stomach and his veins, all liquid gold and white flame, and he couldn’t resist re-capturing your mouth in a kiss that echoed just how helplessly he was affected by it all.

“You’re so fucking beautiful.” He whispered into it, voice lovesick and bleeding awe, painting your mouth with a sparkling grin that knocked him flat, made his heart flip behind his ribs, as he pressed each word to your lips. “More beautiful than anyone or anything I’ve ever seen.”

“Mattheo.” You breathed, a little choked, eyes shining, and he had to drop his head before he could get too entranced, before the way you were looking at him had every little thought and feeling he had surpressed for years bubbling up from his chest and out of his mouth.

Instead, he began pressing featherlight kisses along your jaw, down your throat , gently scraping his teeth along the curve as your fingers caught in the fabric at his shoulders.

He travelled reverently down your body, worshipful hands ghosting down your sides until they reached the hem of your (his) jumper and with a quick glance and a tender smile at your nod of approval, he was lifting it up and over your head, throwing it somewhere to be forgotten entirely.

Mattheo made a greedy noise of appreciation at the sight before him. As his gaze, followed by the almost sacred touch of his trembling hands, discovered the warm, silken skin of your belly, then your ribs and finally your lace covered chest.

You shook beneath him, exhaling a shuddering breath when he bent to kiss your stomach, the droop of his curls tickling softly at your flesh before you carded gentle, adoring fingers through them.

They tightened into a fist as he dragged his tongue from your belly button to the edge of your bra, tugging at the strands just a little meanly enough to make his hips lurch and his molten gaze snap to yours.

“Salazar, Mattheo, stop dragging it out and just take the damn thing off, are you trying to make me explode?” You huffed and he chuckled. A rough, throaty sound as he nudged his nose along the swell of your tit, his mouth hovering just shy of touching whilst he glanced up at you with a smug grin.

“Of course not, princess.” He teased, bleeding self-satisfaction and half-drunk on your need. “Not yet anyway.”

Then his mouth closed over your nipple and whatever witty comeback he could see brewing on your tongue cracked into a choked moan as you arched into him, your thighs tightening as he flicked and pinched at the other with deft fingers.

He swirled his tongue over the wet lace before ripping it down to taste your bare skin, teased the stiffening bud between his teeth whilst he worked the bra from your body and tossed it aside without a glance.

And when he’d drunk his fill of your soft little sighs, the shaking of your body in anticipation, he finally slipped down. Trailing hot, open mouthed kisses over your ribs - your stomach - the patch of skin above your waistband until you were tilting your hips up in a silent plea.

Like he would even consider refusing you, like he ever could.

He curled his fingers around soft fabric and drew it down, slow and careful, past your thighs and your calves until he was curving a gentle hand around your ankle to slip your sweats and your underwear off entirely.

It tore the air from his chest, having you utterly bare before him, enough so that for a moment he did nothing but press his face into the softness your leg and breathed you in, refilling his lungs with you.

You were so warm against him that he couldn't resist moving closer, kissing his way up the inside of your leg until he was between your thighs once more. Broad shoulders wedging them apart and his hands stroking over the sides.

He watched you watch him, eyes darker than he'd ever seen them, as he lowered his mouth and pressed a gentle kiss to your clit.

It made you jolt, made you whimper prettily, and Mattheo's grin was downright wicked as he murmured. “Oh, you liked that didn't you?”

He did it again, a little messier, his tongue barely just grazing you before he stopped and your head thumped back against the floor. “Matty–please.”

“Ah, ah, you’ve got to look at me when you ask for something, princess.” He taunted, soft with it as his fingers swept over your hips. “C'mon, let me see those pretty eyes, yeah?”

You obliged and the shiver that overtook him was less from the late-winter chill that still clung to the bare bones of his flat and more from the fire that snapped in your gaze as you stared down at him.

It was glorious, the war between begging him for more or demanding it of him that played unguarded across your features, the adrenaline rush that came with the knowledge only he inspired such indecision.

You didn't beg for anybody and when Mattheo saw that you realised he knew that, his grin turning smug as he waited, your eyes flared.

“Just because I love you doesn't mean I won’t– oh my god.”

He chose then to bury his face between your thighs, dragging his tongue in a slow, firm stroke over your cunt until your whole body arched with it - your palm slamming to the floor beside you as you wheezed. “Fuck–Mattheo.”

His eyes snapped up to watch you, raking over your pleasure-drunk expression, the raw vulnerability of it nearly enough to make Mattheo lose his damn head before the movements of your hand caught his attention.

You were skating it over the carpet, fingers flexing, clawing, attempting to twist into the coarse fibres in an effort to ground yourself and failing as he swirled his tongue over your clit.

He reached for you without another thought, his hand leaving the unyielding grip it had on your thigh to snatch up yours, entwining both your fingers before he squeezed. Silently telling you, use me - anchor yourself to me - it’s okay, I’ve got you.

The first flick of his tongue after that made your head fall back. The second had you twisting your fingers in the silk of his curls. His lips sealing themselves over your clit before he sucked hard had you tugging at him enough that Mattheo whined into you, fingers digging into the meat of your arse to press you to him tighter, his hips rocking against the floor whilst you bucked into the searing heat of his mouth, utterly uninhibited.

The sight of it was maddening, it was divine.

He was torn between never wanting to leave the space between your legs and pulling back to fully appreciate you writhing beneath him. Letting all the praise that was crashing through his head come spilling out so he could see the way you'd go liquid, pretty eyes glazed over, as your thighs quaked.

There was sweat beading at your hairline as he made a mess of you - glistening along the column of your throat, the valley between your gorgeous tits. He watched the way your free hand left his hair to trail the softest path to one of them and squeezed, felt the way your body reacted to both sensations when he pushed two fingers inside you and curled them nice and deep.

You were feverish under him, mewling and arching as he picked up the pace and Mattheo almost lost it at the state of you, trying his hardest to not embarrass himself when every crook of his fingers had you flexing your hips into his hand, fucking yourself on him.

It made your voice turn thread-bare when you whimpered that you couldn't take much more, that you were ‘so fucking close’ and ‘please–Matty–don't stop’.

He went to flame then. To desperation and insanity and all burning, searing need to devour you whole and drink you down until he either drowned or you had nothing left to give.

“I won't baby–fuck, that's it,” Mattheo groaned, sounding equally as wrecked as you looked. “Let go for me. Let me hear how it feels– that's it, good girl.”

And just like you begged him to, he didn't stop until your entire being shook beneath him with a choked cry and you clenched unforgivingly tight around his fingers. He didn't stop when the call of his name cracked and broke as your voice gave out whilst he licked you through the violent crest of your orgasm until it's dying breaths and your body fell slack against the floor.

He didn't stop until you jerked in his hold, gasping and pleading, your fingers eventually releasing their tense grip in his hair to slip down to his chin, tilting it. Away from your glistening cunt as he was made to look up at you.

“Are you trying to kill me?” You laughed weakly, stunned gaze roving over every inch of him as you tried to catch your breath, and he wondered if he looked as undone as he felt before you. Wild haired and panting. On his stomach with his eyes dazed and face coated with you.

“I'm sorry,” he rasped, not bothering to even try and appear like he was very sorry at all, “but it's not my fault you taste better than I dreamed you would.”

Your eyes glazed a little at that, a dopey little smile playing at your mouth with it, and he laughed softly when you released his hand to pass it over your sweat-damp hair with a breathlessly murmured ‘fuck’.

He nuzzled at your thighs as satisfaction rolled through his chest, pressing gentle kisses to the still trembling skin as he soothed his hands over your legs - your belly - massaging your sides until you made a playful grab for them and brought them to your lips, eyes shining down at him at the way his lashes fluttered and his expression turned smitten before you tugged at him.

He climbed back up your body with a grin, a shining, pleased thing that he was sure probably took up nearly half of his face and you huffed a quiet laugh when he nudged his nose against yours. His mouth surrendering once more to yours in a syrup sweet kiss that burned deeper, more feverish, the longer it lasted.

“You’re adorable sometimes, you know that?” You smiled when he eventually drew back, eyes bright and twinkling with mirth whilst your fingers skimmed his jaw.

He snorted. “Sure, that’s the word you’re gonna use for someone who just made you c-” He teased, cheeks dimpling as his grin widened when you quickly covered his mouth with your fingers and jokingly warned.

“Don't ruin the moment, Mattheo.”

He laughed and kissed you insead. He couldn't stop, couldn't stop touching you, couldn't feed the ache fast enough that came with needing to do it more than he already was.

He choked as you rolled your hips into his own, as he finally allowed himself to fully acknowledge the pleasure sparking in his veins whilst it gathered intensity. Letting the thick outline of his cock slide against you until you were groaning into each other's mouths. Hands knotted in his hair and pearl-white teeth grazing the plush of his lip when you drew back to murmur.

“I want you–I've wanted you for so long, fuck, Matty, you have no idea.”

He did. He’d wanted you for just as long, if not longer.

But still, hearing it sent a shock through him - ripped a low, guttural moan straight from his lungs that was followed by a heat-soaked curse that you took from him just as readily as you had everything else he'd given so far.

He didn't even blink before asking. “Can you say that again?”

You licked your lips and grinned, breath stuttering as he continued to move against you, fingers snatching at your jaw so you couldn't take your eyes of him. “I need you inside me or I'm gonna lose my mind, it's all I've thought about for months–the way you'd feel– how you'd fuck me– oh god.”

Another desperate noise. “Fucking hell. Again. Please.”

He didn't try to stop you when you reached for his clothes, rising to sit back on his haunches so you could follow and strip him of his hoodie, his shirt. His hand curling around the back of your neck to drag you into to him, mouths connecting the instant they were both over his head in a kiss that was all tongue and teeth, a little messy, touched with desperation. Frantic.

You flattened your palms to his chest, sweeping them out and then down, exploring the expanse of flushed skin, the muscles of his chest and his stomach that twitched beneath your touch. The hunger behind every slow, drawn out trace making his heart rattle behind his ribs.

He shivered when your mouth trailed over his jaw, when he felt teasing nips marking his throat before there was an open mouthed kiss pressed over the scar on his chest.

A soft clink of metal echoed in the room as your hands drifted to his belt, your fingertips slipping over the leather whilst you pulled it free from the loops of his jeans before it fell to the floor with a quiet thud.

And then you were pushing his jeans down just far enough until he was able to hastily kick them off. His heart in his mouth as he knelt before you, utterly naked apart from the shadows that slanted over his skin.

He felt a flicker - the ghosts of that insecurity of not being enough passing over his face before he could blow it away like a cobweb- and prayed that you wouldn't notice. That you wouldn't mistake his hesitation for something else and even consider it to be directed at you.

But instead it seemed that you understood. Your hands found his jaw and you drew him into a kiss that ached. A lovely, bruising thing that had him melting into you, any insecurities fleeing so fucking far away that he could barely remember what they felt like.

You held him as tightly as you could and hummed in delight against his lips when he did the same and crushed you to his chest, the sound of it morphing into something needy as his cock throbbed, hot and smearing wetness against your belly.

“I want you, Mattheo, I don't know how else to explain it, just that I need you so badly it hurts– it's hurt from the moment I realised exactly what you mean to me and I don't think it'll ever stop no matter how much I might have you.”

Mattheo swallowed hard, throat bobbing.

You would be the death of him, he was sure of it. His hands shook, fingers grasping at your cheeks in an attempt to hide it, and there was this unfathomable feeling of love swelling inside him so brilliantly that he could barely contain it as he peppered your face with sweet, breathless kisses.

"You can have me whenever you want,” he pressed the words into your skin, the glowing warmth of your cheeks as he pushed you back, murmuring the next ones over and over until he hovered over you once more, “I’m yours.”

You went soft for him in the cage of his arms at that. Stripped down to your barest bones in the face of his raw emotion and it made his heart flutter and thump all too fast behind his ribs when your voice trembled on a sigh his name, so sweet and lovely, as his forehead dipped to meet yours.

“Hi.” He breathed, voice dropping low, his smile achingly soft.

Your lips quirked, nose slipping against his when you whispered back a tender, “hi.”

In the dimly lit space of his flat and with soft carpet at your back, you drew him closer, kissed him like you wished the two of you could fuse together and touched him as he fought to commit it all to memory. The way he felt - burning with each and every stroke of your hand, each part of him alight as you murmured beautiful affections against his mouth - at the intimacy of it all.

The image of you that he was sure not even death could take from him when it eventually came - eyes bright as jewels, lips marked with his kisses, all pretty, soft skin that gleamed under the weak stream of light the evening had yet to swallow.

You looked like something ethereal, something otherworldly and untouchable, and the privilege he felt in being the one to see you that way, to contribute to the way you were a gorgeous mess, felt like something holy.

“I love you.” He choked.

His words coming out jumbled and almost broken, followed by a hiss slipping sharply through his teeth when you finally guided him into you. A low noise caught in his throat and eyes screwed shut as he slid inside you inch by inch until his hips met yours.

He felt like he was on fire, the warmth that had been blooming in his gut morphing into something violent and unimaginable that had his body tensing as he struggled not to finish before he’d even started. Head falling against your shoulder just before he felt your lips brush against his temple, parting on a rushed exhale.

“I love you too,” you moaned, voice strangled. “Oh, god, Mattheo–”

At least, it seemed that you were in just as bad shape as he was. He’d probably say something similar if he could remember how to speak.

But his mind had splintered. Shattered apart to fragments and the only thing he could focus on was the way you were surrounding him- all slick, tight heat and the overwhelming sensation that burst through his chest of all his lost pieces suddenly slotting into place, like you were a part of his soul he wasn’t aware he was missing until you were finally joined once more.

“Shit, I'm sorry– just give me a minute.” He stuttered, voice hoarse and eyes blown wide, endlessly dark when he peered down at you. Half determined, half pleading. “I want to make it good for you, you just feel so–merlin, you feel too fucking good.”

He moved carefully only moments after that, unable to resist. An oozing honey pace that only made him moan when you kissed him, a filthy sound that would have stunned him had he not been so out of his mind.

He could only stare at you like you were pure magic taken form - no ancient bloodline or cursed objects needed for whatever it was running through your veins - as you threaded your fingers through his hair and whispered. Breath hitching. “It's okay– it's already so fucking– oh– so good, just let go. I want to feel it.”

It made his desperation threaten to win over. Head spinning as he dragged himself back out of you before surging back in, hitching your leg high up at his waist so he could do it again and again and again. Each thrust knocking you further up the floor and pulling a strangled noise from the back of your throat that he quickly stole with greedy lips moulded over your own.

It started slow, deliberate and devastating, and then turned faster. Needier and unrestrained. The sound of panting breaths and skin on skin rising in the otherwise silence. Open mouthed kisses that were forced to come to an end because all the oxygen felt like it had fled both of your lungs, punched out every time you met the frantic rolling of his hips.

Mattheo had never felt anything like it and it was dangerously close to annihilating him completely.

There were wicked bolts of something animalistic, a feral rush of desire, threatening to send him spiralling and you gasped in surprise, hands clenching tight at his arms, when he pulled out and reared back to kneel before you. Desperate hands shoving your knees against your chest before he buried himself back inside you again.

It changed the angle that he speared into you with and with the next thrust that came you were sobbing for him, seizing up like he’d plunged into the heart of your pleasure and pierced it - letting it flow out to the farthest reaches of you until you were curling into the solid press of him against you. Fingers scraping down his arms and back arching like a bow.

“Mattheo,” you whimpered and fuck, you sounded just as overwhelmed by it as he felt. Shaking in his arms as the heat wrapping around you both grew and grew. “Oh–god–”

It made him choke on his tongue, eyes rolling back at the way you were clenching around him as his thrusts became deeper, greedier. His cock harder than it had ever been whilst you made a mess of his stomach and his thighs and Mattheo couldn’t get enough.

He was so close to losing his mind, so close to devouring you entirely and begging you to ruin him because every sound you made, every sweet little uh,uh,uh that tumbled past your lips was unlocking something wild tucked deep inside him that he was helpless to rein back. That had him babbling praise, incoherent words that dripped down on you like scalding hot honey.

“So good for me– so fucking perfect– just look at you, fuck, you're beautiful.”

And then he was folding himself over you to latch his mouth to your nipple. Relishing the way you jerked as he flicked his tongue, scraping his teeth across the peak until you mewled before trailing a path of fire up to your collar bones and then higher again to the tender skin of your throat. Sucking a kiss there that had you keening and shone like a bruise when he drew back to meet your burning stare.

“Show me.” Mattheo asked roughly, more than a little desperate because you were so tight around him and he was so fucking close. Stomach quivering and flooding with golden heat. “Show me how you've touched yourself all those times you thought about this, how you made yourself come thinking about me.”

You nodded slowly as if dazed by the request, lips parted and eyes gleaming dark. But you were quick to comply. Quick to grasp his hand and drag it down to where he was fucking up into you, to the place where you were soaked and aching.

And once you were there, you pressed his fingers against you and manipulated them to draw quick, messy circles over your clit that had you throwing your head back with a loud cry of his name whilst he watched, lust drunk and in awe.

“Shit, shit shit.” Each word that bubbled its way up your throat was ragged, edging on breathless as you writhed. “Mattheo, oh my god, I’m gonna–”

He surged up before you could finish, his other hand tearing away from your leg to tangle itself in your hair so he could drag your mouth to his and kiss you as you came. Holding you fiercely in place and groaning against your lips, swallowing down your own noises whilst your cunt fluttered around him, convulsing over and over until his movements grew frantic and messy. Warmth pulsing brightly in his groin and his stomach and his too tight chest.

“That’s it, fuck–” He grunted into your mouth, lungs heaving. “Cum for me, baby– make a fucking mess of me–”

It was too much - he was bordering on delirious, wound so tight that any moment it felt like he’d explode. Burst apart like confetti.

It took every ounce of strength he had to stave off his own release so he could extend yours by letting the frantic rhythm of his snapping thrusts morph into a slow, intense grind that stole the breath from your chest and made it feel like he was melding himself to your body.

Like you were burying into each other so deep that you would never truly be able to remove the imprint of the other afterwards.

There was a flash of pain from your nails scratching down his scalp and across the broad sweep of his shoulders, teeth scoring the softness of his bottom lip whilst shudders wracked your frame and it startled him, the low, starving noise it drew from his mouth.

Knocked him flat when you drew the stinging flesh into your mouth, flicking your tongue against the marks you had left behind, and began to press your hips into his that little bit faster despite the way he could feel the muscles of your thighs trembling around his waist.

And when you cupped his cheeks, eyes burning with a wicked hunger whilst you whispered against his mouth, Mattheo was utterly lost.

“C’mon Matty, let go,” you encouraged him, voice wrecked. Desperate. “Want you to cum– want you to fill me up–make me yours–”

He fell apart for you then, crashed into bliss with his arms wound achingly tight around you and let it wrench him open as his hips stuttered and then came to an almost stop, twitching desperately and fused unyieldingly to your own. His vision going dark and your name like a prayer that he gasped into your skin over and over.

And when it all eventually calmed, the crashing of his heart beating against his ribs and your chaotic breaths, the exhaustion had him collapsing into you. Both of you tangling in a heap of slack limbs on the floor before he managed to lift himself on weak arms to the sound of your startled laugh.

The way you were looking up at him when he raised his head was making his chest ache, filling his lungs up with an adoring kind of wonder, the kind that created sunshine and sprouted wildflowers in even the darkest parts of him.

It made it impossible for him not to ask. “Can I kiss you?”

And if he thought that you would laugh at him considering everything that had just happened, that only moments ago he’d been buried inside you, then he was delighted to be proven wrong. Because you were beaming at him the second the question rushed past his lips, eyes sparkling in the near dark of the small, narrow hallway.

“Of course you can.”

So he kissed you like he’d always craved to but never dared to hope for, slipping his fingers through the messy tangle of your hair to cradle your head whilst his lips pressed sweetly and almost shy against your own.

It unfurled like it held its own magic, the type that could stop time and make him feel like he was floating, tingles rushing all through his body until he was lightheaded and needed to draw back before he lost his breath to the irresistible pull of it all.

He never wanted to leave this moment. There was a contentment settling in his bones that he’d never experienced before and you, you were glowing again.

It radiated from you and he wondered if he had been painted in its loveliness the same way, if his happiness was as blatant to you as yours had always been to him.

If the adoring way you were looking at him counted for anything then he thought that it was.

“You're incredible.” He murmured, snaking his arm to rest as a pillow under your head and curling the other around your waist. Folding you into him. You wound your own around his neck in return and smiled, fingers dragging softly through his hair and slipping down his face. A reverent touch.

“You’re pretty amazing yourself, Mattheo.”

He melted at that, pressed little butterfly kisses to your cheeks and your nose and your hair until his throat no longer ached with how tight it had become.

He wanted to say that he felt it, when his voice no longer seemed like it would crack.

That here in your arms he didn't feel like he was less and he was no longer afraid of being a disappointment to you. Not when you refused to make him feel like he had to destroy himself to match expectations created by someone else, like he fell short just by being him and not them.

He had always been enough in your eyes and he didn’t know how he had ever managed to deny loving you when it had been right in front of his face the whole time.

You made him glow.

And he would love you for it long after he had turned to bone.

[lov3notts]

"you what?"

ᥫ᭡Theodore Nott x F!Readerᥫ᭡

summary: accidentally drinking a lust potion, you asked your best friend Theo for help.

warning: smut, cursing, unprotected sex, size kink maybe? cream pie.

word count: 2.4k

18+only; minors don’t interact

Navigation; masterlist; request rules

“You what?” Theo’s eyes widened, you wanted him to do what? He wasn’t sure if this was a dream or not but if it was he didn’t want to wake up

Earlier that day , you had accidentally drank a lust potion. 

How, you might ask?

Well the boys (Enzo/ Mattheo) thought it would be funny to prank Draco by giving him a lust potion as payback for pranking them earlier that week

At lunch the 2 boys were there first, taking their usual spots they slip the potion to a bottle of Draco's favorite drink and placing it on the spot were Draco usually sits

One by one the group gets to the table ,leaving you and Draco left. 

Soon both of you walk in, but you seem to be in a rush

“Sorry guys I can’t stay and chat, I have to get back to studying, i’m just here to get some food to eat while studying” grabbing random things and the only drink you see left, you quickly stuff it in your purse

“Wait y/n!” Enzo saying frantically, giving Matt a worried look

You look up at Enzo as you start to zip up your bag. “Yeah?” 

“We were actually saving that for Draco, um- were having practice later and that’s his favorite”

“Omg I’m so sorry! Here-“ as your opening you bag Draco comes behind you , going to sit down 

“I actually got my own drink, y/n can have it” Dracos says while pulling out his drink from his bag,

Enzo’s and Mattheos’s eye widen.

“I- um, but we got it for you” Matt says with a bit of a shaky voice 

“Its fine, I don’t need it” as he waves his drink showing the 2 boys

“But-“ 

“Omg thank you Draco, I really have to go now guys see you later” you say as you're walking away before the boys have a chance to take away the drink.

Both Enzo and Matt try to call you back but you’re already gone, both freaking out inside. praying you don't find out what they did.

While studying in your dorm you couldn’t focus for more than 10 seconds. Thinking you might just be tired from all the studying you took a break. Getting up from your desk you head towards your bed. Laying in your bed you start to space out

At first it was all innocent thoughts, school, weekend plans but then they started to shift The only thing you could think of was pleasure. Thinking of a certain boy made your cunt throb, making your body hot

Your hand slowly creeps down to your shorts. Slowly playing with yourself imagining it was Theo’s fingers rubbing circles on your clit.

“Oh god Theo” you moaned 

but no matter how good it felt you couldn’t reach your climax. You were so needy and nothing was working. The rising heat from your body only made things more uncomfortable.

“God what is wrong with me, and why is it so hot” getting up from your bed you walk towards your desk, trying to find your drink, in hopes of it cooling you down . You picked up the bottle and before you can finish the drink you saw something written on the bottom of the bottle

“Payback- Enzo and Mattheo”

Your eyes widened with confusion. 

What?

Then you remembered how the drink was meant for Draco. 

everything started to make sense

This is why you were like this

You couldn’t even be mad at them, Your mind was clouded with the urge to get any satisfaction you could. all you wanted was any sort of pleasure but nothing was good enough. it started to get painful and a sudden thought popped in your head. Theo

he’d help right? He was really the only one you can go to. 

Your heart was racing at just the thought of Theo agreeing to help you out, being best friends all these years you had developed a crush on him, of course you never acted on it because you didn’t want to ruin your friendship 

Pacing back and forth your room, you finally decide to ask him for help. Nervously picking up your phone, you open Theo’s contact.

“Theo?”

“Hey Bella, what’s up?”

The nickname itself making you get butterflies.

 “Um- I need a favor, can you come over?”

“Of course, i'll be over in a few”

“Okay see you” hanging up the phone, your thoughts begin to consume you

What if he says no?

What if he laughs at your face and runs off

What if…

What if he says yes… 

Before you can continue, there was a knock on your door. That must be him. Slowly walking to your door, palms sweaty, you turn your door knob

“Hey, what did you need help with?” Theo goes in to give you a hug

Hugging him back, your nose is infused with his cologne  

God why does he always smell so good

He lets go and looks at you closely, he moves a strain of hair behind your ear to have a better look at you. His eyebrows frown, noticing your face is flustered and incredibly warm.

“Are you okay? Your face is warm” resting his hand on your cheek

“Yeah, um actually funny story-“ Quickly leading him to sit on the edge of your bed, holding his hands as you begin to explain

“Please just hear me out. I know it's odd ,but I have no one to go to,- just please-“ falling to your knees, begging.

“Hey hey, breathe. You know I'm here if you need anything. Now tell me, what’s up?” Theo's eyes looking at you with worry.

“Please I- I need you to fuck me” you blur out

That was the last thing Theo thought would come out of your mouth. 

You wanted him to what???

He was speechless, absolutely at a loss of words. jaw wide open

“Please, I'm sorry for asking you for this, I know it’s a lot and we’re best friends. But please I can’t take it anymore. I accidentally drank something that wasn’t meant to me and it had this effect on me. I’ve tried everything but nothing is working. I need your help please” your face heating up from embarrassment . I mean you only ever had the biggest crush on your best friend for years, but what you didn’t know was that so did Theo.

Theo had dreamt of the day he got to be with you.

How’d he spend hours pleasuring himself of the thought of you under him, on top of him and how good you’d take him in your mouth. God, was he hard the second you asked him to help you out.

How could he say no? 

Without another thought he picked you up from the floor. Sitting down back on your bed while you straddled his lap.

Looking into your eyes, moving a piece of your hair behind your ear, resting his hand on your cheek, he leaded in.  

Your soft lips on his, both whimpering into the intense kiss. Licking your bottom lip asking for access. You gladly gave it to him. 

Slowly rocking your hips on his clothed boner, trying to find any friction to satisfy you.

Slowly laying you down your bed, taking off your clothes until you were left in nothing but your matching black lace set. 

“Don’t worry Bella, i’ll take good care of you” Theo whispers as he starts to leave a trail of kisses down your body

“Theo please~” you pleaded, needing to feel something, anything.

“poor thing, you’ve must of been so uncomfortable for such a long time, don’t worry i’m here now”

He stopped to look at your lying body, face all flustered, messy hair. 

“God you’re so beautiful” he wasn’t lying, he’d always thought you were the most beautiful person he’d ever seen. Always jealous of your ex boyfriends because they got to be with you. But now it was his turn and he was going to give you the best you’d ever gotten, he was going to ruin every other guy you’ve been with. 

Slowly pulling your panties off, dick throbbing at the sight of your wet glistening pussy. Trying to ignore his throbbing cock and focus on you, he gives you a sweet smile. 

“You're soaking wet, so ready for me” leaving little kisses around your pussy, teasing. finally burying his face between your legs, painfully slow licks as he takes it in, savoring every moment. 

As soon as you felt his tongue, you became a whimpering mess.  

“Theo~ oh my god yes” moving your hand to his hair, giving it a little tug. 

Theo couldn’t hold it in anymore, he started to devour you. eating you out as if he’d never get this opportunity ever again

“You taste so fucken good” he groaned against your dripping core. The vibrations sending you waves of pleasure 

“More please, Theo! oh my god~” it felt so good, his tongue making you feel things you’ve never felt before with anyone else

“So polite, even when your so needy” Theo smirked as he sees how much of a mess you were for him

He starts so pump one of his fingering into you while eating you out. Soon enough you felt the feeling you were craving for

“M-so close, fuck Theo i’m so close”

He stops what he’s doing, getting up grasping on his zipper and undoing the button. Tugging his jeans and boxers off. 

“Theo? Why’d you stop? I was so close” you looked at him with teary eyes. you were so close, god why did he stop

“Sorry princess, I wanna be in you, want you cum on my cock” godddd was he hot

His cock strung out his pants hitting his stomach , you were lost for words. In no world was Theodore Nott small, he was big- huge even. you’ve never taken anything close to his size.

Theo noticed your starring

“Like what you see?” A smile tugged the corner of his lips

“Don’t worry you can take it, I know you can”

You nodded at his works 

He lined himself up to your pussy, tracing himself up and down, teasing you.

“You have no idea how long i've been wanting to do this for” 

“Fuck ,Theo please, please fuck me” you whined 

“Anything for you, love”

he slowly pushed himself into you. You both let out a loud moan. 

“fuck, your so tight” Theo was out of breath.

You felt so good around him that he never wanted this moment to end.

“fuck Theo your big” you said panting 

“You think you can take more?”

More???

“There’s more??” Looking at Theo with a disbelief face

He chuckled “i’m only have way”

“Don’t worry you can handle it, can’t you baby?”

“Mhm- yes yes, I can take it”

Pushing the reset of himself into you. bottoming you out. heavily breathing, getting comfortable with the feeling of him stretching you out. 

“good girl ,You’re doing so well for me, are you ready?”

“Yes! fuck-please move, please” you begged

Brining your legs above his shoulders and laying them there. Gripping your ankles to keep you steady as he started to thrust into you. Both a moaning mess

“Fuck fuck fuckkk, Theo-” your eyes roll back, arching your back.

“You feel so good Bella, oh god-“ panting 

“Your squeezing me tight- fuck”

One of his hands moving to your waist. fucking you harder now, unable to stop. His cock was so fucking good, hitting your g-spot every time.

“Fuck Theo just like that, don’t stop, don’t stop please!” Your hands holding onto your bed sheets as he rocks his hips.

“You like that huh? You like it when your best friend is pounding into you, god you look so beautiful, taking all of me like a good girl” he groans while leaving kisses on your ankle.

Your walls clenching at his words

He groaned again as he felt your cunt throb at his praise. 

“Oh you like being called a good girl don’t you?” letting go of your ankle to grip your jaw to make you look at him.

“Who's a good girl are you?” Theo says as he speeds up his thrusts

Looking at him with half lidded eyes “Yours, all yours!!~“ you moan

“That’s right all mine, no one can ever make you feel this good, isn’t that right love?”

 “Mhm only you, ah~ i'm so close”

“Cum for me baby, come all over my cock”

You were absolute bliss, god you’ve never seen fucked this good, yeah you’ve had other hookups but nothing can compared to this, to Theo

You moaned loudly, shutting your eyes as you reached your orgasm “im- im cumming!!” Your body shaking from the overwhelming feeling

The way your walls clenched from cumming made Theo on the verge of spilling. He continues to thrust into you through your first orgasm. He didn’t expect you make such a mess all over his dick, your cum spilling out of you as he thrusts into you

You felt Theo twitch inside of you, knowing he’s close you moved his hand from your waist to your breasts.

“Mmm so soft…” Theo whispered. leaning down, putting his tongue on your nipple, swirling it around. “Mmm Theo that feels good” throwing your head back from a little act. Theo was soon approaching his climax.  

“Fuckk- can I cum inside of you? please oh god I can’t hold it anymore, please? Fuck-” Theo begged as he tried to hold it in, waiting for you response 

“Yes!! fuck Theo cum inside me” you practically screamed as you felt you stomach tighten.

He let out a loud moan as he spilled his cum inside of you. You screamed as you felt his warm cum spilling in you, triggering your second orgasm.

Theo’s thrusts became sloppy, riding out both your highs. He pulled out and laid beside you. Dizzy and breathless, taking a moment to catch your breath.  Finally when you both got steady, you look up at Theo

“Thank you Theo, really”

“No need to thank me Bella, you can come to me for anything anytime” smiling at you.

crawling onto his lap you whispered into his ear “stay the night? I don’t think the drink has worn off just yet~”

This was going to be a long night for Theo.

ᥫ᭡reblog's & comment's are appreciatedᥫ᭡

a/n: Thank you for reading my first ever fic!! a special mention to @leona-hawthorne for being an angel and giving me feedback on my first rough draft. It helped a lot:)!! another honorable mention to @nottsangel!! Im that anon who mentioned writing their first story, hope you like it^-^ thank you both, your blogs have inspired me to start writing. xoxo

©lov3notts ,do not copy, translate or claim any of my writing or works as your own.

[dearmisshoney]

pitch a (his) tent

synopsis. when your brother mattheo brings his new girlfriend on the annual boys-only camping trip, you're invited along to balance out the dynamic. everything’s fine... until your old tent gives out, forcing you to share one with the only person staying alone — theo nott. insufferable yet maddeningly hot theo nott. let’s just say… they should be making warning signs of him too, not just of bears.

pairing. brother's bsf! theo x reader

content/mdni. fem! reader, brother’s bsf! theo, very mean! theo, switch! theo energy (he's losing it), pent-up! theo, pussy-drunk! theo, messy-eater! theo, enemies-to-lovers tension,  allusions to male masturbation, handjob (assisted), clit stimulation, oral (f receiving), dry-humping, cum play, allusions to overstimulation, allusions to edging (m receiving), dirty talk, pet names (amore, good girl), p in v implied but doesn’t happen, smut with ton of plot, one freddy fazbear joke

word count. 4k

a/n. hello, honeybuns! as promised, i came back to theo, specifically brother’s best friend! theo. this fic is also part of the first week of @acourtofchaos ’s event (although i am late oopsi). let me know what you think about this theo piece! feedback and reblogs are deeply appreciated!

the harmonious sounds of the crickets were the only hums spilling over the camping grounds. the joyous laughter and the ongoing chatter of daylight toned down little by little, falling prey to nighttime, vanishing entirely.

four tents were pitched around a put-out campfire, all jet black and covered by a thick layer of drowsiness. one lonely tent was perched farther from the cluster, partially hidden behind a sturdy tree.

a glowing beam of light emerged from one of the four tents, hauntingly hovering — fast yet quiet — towards the isolated one.

some might say that was a forest spirit, making its appearance at midnight to prowl around the mortal word.

some, against such meager fairytales, would suggest the yellowish orb to be but a tiny firefly, aimlessly flying around the camping grounds.

you would confirm that it was actually the light of your portable lamp, dangling from your hand and swinging according to the whim of the forest’s chilly wind. and the trajectory was not arbitrary — even before you’ve emerged from your tent, you decided to stick to the quickest route towards nott and his secluded shelter.

your feet, clad in simple flip-flops, crushed the dry dirt of the pathway, stepping with swiftness through the cold air of the night. the distance between the tents was not that far, yet your pajamas and your almost bare feet were not enough to protect your body from the temperature change.

hurrying your pace, you finally arrived before nott’s enclosure.

no inside light pierced through the thick material of the tent, a clear signal that theodore may be asleep. soft murmurs could be heard here and there, but you were not sure those came from inside.

you stretched out your arm by reflex, pushing the lamp forward, closer to the tent, trying somehow to see what theodore was up to. however, the additional light did little to nothing, making only the dirty green colour of the tent more vibrant; the inside was still a mystery.

“n–nott?” you whisper-yelled his name, testing the waters, still hoping he was awake.

it would make your life so much easier.

your call and the silence following it made the entire moment feel eerie. you were suddenly more aware of your singular existence in the middle of a sleeping forest.

the air felt harsher, cutting into your lungs. the light of your lantern was suddenly too bright, blindingly so. urgency spiked throughout your body, making goosebumps appear all over your skin.

fuck it, you will wake him up.

reaching out your free hand, you tightly gripped the outside slider of the zipper. and, with a final intake of air, you dragged it in the opposite direction, slowly revealing the entrance.

but it immediately flew away from between your fingers, fastly separating half the length of the zipper’s teeth.

“what the fuck is wrong with you?”

theodore's voice boomed in your ear, hitting you before his dishevelled appearance did. his voice sounded exhausted, although he did not seem to have been sleeping before your intrusion. yet, his visible grimace and his hand shooting upwards to shelter his eyes from your stupid lantern gave away the fact that he has been staying with the light off for a while.

“umm, i-”

“put that shit away, will ya’?”

his words were harsh and rude, thrown at you with no second thought. that's usually how he is when it comes to you; your brother’s best friend barely holds back, and if he must restrict his vocabulary, he colours his speech through intonation.

intonation showcasing annoyance and displeasure.

“yeah, yeah, my bad.”

you mumbled a half-hearted apology as you flipped off the switch of the lamp, the light slowly dimming in your hand until there was no more.

your surroundings were yet again swimming in darkness, and your eyes — not yet accustomed to the lack of brightness — seem to betray your disadvantage in the face of nott.

“what do you want?”

you could barely distinguish his silhouette, the contour of his body slightly blending in with the shadowy insides of the tent. you could see, however, the way his tent was partly open, a sign you were unwelcome in his vicinity.

that and his venomous words. he clearly wanted you gone.

you sucked in a breath, hammering down your ego, and carefully answered theodore.

“my tent’s ripped. didn’t notice until now–”

“and? the fuck do you take me for? bob the builder?”

oh, his patience was wearing thin. with your vision slowly adapting to the darkness, you registered the way his hand dragged the slider back down by a quarter of the length, wishing to separate the two of you for good.

“wait, wait.” panic surged into you and your hands jumped out instinctively, clutching theo’s fingers, stopping his movement altogether. your lantern long forgotten, dropped somewhere on the dirt path. “i can’t sleep there.”

“oh, please. you think a ghost will eat you?”

theo bit back at your reasoning, poking fun at the silly horror stories the group told right before bed and mocking your childish fear.

you can insist all you want, he doesn’t care.

his other hand ushered yours away to prove his stance, pulling the slider further down.

“you’re so ugh–” you were using all your power to stop yourself from kicking the supports of his tent and have it collapse over him.

“BEARS. i am scared of bears. actual animals that are in this forest.”

“just har har back at–”

“can i please stay in your tent?”

please. you never say please to him. please, thanks, and sorry are three words you’d never redirect at him unless you were extremely desperate.

and, shit, you seem to be needing to share his tent by the way you’ve swallowed up your pride and begged.

“fine. hop in.”

he does it for mattheo, he convinced himself as he pulled back the slider, revealing the full width of the entrance for you. he does it so your brother won’t rip his skin off if something does happen to you in your ripped tent.

yeah, that’s the only reason.

you slowly crawled into the tent, careful not to touch anything in your wake; theo seems to be in a bad mood, and you did not want to aggravate the situation further. so you propped yourself at the opposite side of him, sitting with your legs crossed one over the other, observing how he zipped back up the entrance.

you were now irrefutably stuck in a small tent with theodore nott.

after securing the slider, theo turned around to locate you. and when his eyes landed on you, all stiff and unmoving, he just sighed and slapped his forehead with his own palm.

“i hope you won’t stay like that all night.”

“like what?”

“like a creep, watching me sleep.”

“a creep? what do–”

“just lay down and sleep.”

theo issued his command and moved away from the topic at once, crawling back to his sleeping bag and sliding right in. ignoring you. even if you tried to continue the discussion, him turning his back towards you was enough evidence he did not want to interact with you more than necessary.

“okay, okay.”

you still answered him, sighing with exasperation at his bitchy attitude.

why was he so irritated tonight? indeed, theodore nott was not a big fan of yours, but his patience was never this fragile. maybe you angered him during the day? you don’t really remember talking to him at all though, more interested in spending time with mattheo’s girlfriend away from the boys.

the reasons behind his shitty behaviour will remain a mystery, as theo seemed to be adamant to go to sleep. you conceded too, finally laying down, closer to the edge of the tent, taking a similar sideway position as him.

the tent was warmer than yours, no rupture disturbing the temperature of the insides, yet the lack of covers did make your body curl into itself and seek more warmth. you did so for a few minutes, twisting and turning from side to side, searching for the optimal position.

theodore seems to be aware of it all as a long exhale emerged from his side of the tent. all loud — exaggeratedly so — and purposeful, acting as a warning, as a replacement for a verbal complaint.

you bit down on your bottom lip, hoping you were just reading too much into it, and shifted the position of your legs again. the loud whoosh sound of your pants across the tent material resonated around the entire shelter.

“move one more time and i am kicking you out.”

he spat the threat at you in a heavy tone, seriousness latched onto every word of his. he even betrayed his initial position and turned around to prove it, facing you for a third time that night.

“i am not doing it on purpose.” you hissed back at him, encircling your arms around your torso and pushing your knees further into your stomach, hoping he will realise cold was making you so restless.

“oh, so your body moves on its own?”

sassiness. mockery. rage.

“i am cold.” you blatantly stated, more of a whisper than a fully articulated sentence.

this will soften his resolve, right?

“not my problem.”

no.

you huffed out a shaky breath, curling tighter into yourself. your body was visibly shivering against the cool air, air that was sneaking underneath your pajama and pinching at your skin. you did not dare to spoke another word to him, certain his coldness will only worsen your situation; so, trembling into yourself deeper and deeper, you hoped your body will just heat up on its own.

silence stretched between the two of you, heavy and palpable. you paid theo no mind, completely averting your gaze from his emotionless face and closing them with an unspoken wish for sleep.

“­fuck, fine. c’mere.”

your head snapped immediately at his words, your eyes locked in on theodore in an instant. “what?”

“you won’t sleep otherwise, right?” he muttered, reaching for the edge of his sleeping bag and pulling at the zipper just enough so you could slip in. “just– get in.”

your heart stuttered, nerves, confusion, and something else colliding inside you. carefully, you inched closer to him, joining him into the sleeping bag as instructed.

it was cramped. too cramped.

it was obvious the sleeping bag was made for one person only. yet you couldn’t complain. wouldn’t complain.

your thighs shifted against his, pajama pants brushing against pajama pants, and your chest pressed against his arm. the space between you two was almost non-existent, your bodies mushed under the too-small sleeping covers.

it was so strange, but it felt so good.

a sigh of pleasure slipped past your lips as your body soaked in the warmth of the sleeping bag and of theodore’s body. unconsciously, you even drew closer into him, dipping your head towards his clothed chest and–

“back off, weirdo.”

his hand emerged from underneath, pressing against your forehead and regaining some distance between the two of you. your upper body might have been pushed away towards the edge, but your lower body was strongly opposing theo by latching your legs to his own and keeping your ground.

“but you’re warm.”

“i don’t offer cuddles, so stop– ugh”

his complaints were interrupted by a deep loud groan. you would have said you hit a nerve with your forwardness, and that was his reaction.

but no.

you hit something else, something in the nether regions — your knee aimlessly nudged between his thighs in your attempts at trapping him, brushing against his cock.

his hard cock, if you were to be specific.

“oh my god, is that–”

“i told you to back–”

“is that why you’re so bitchy?”

you suddenly had a moment of epiphany: theodore nott was so irritated by your arrival because you ruined his jack-off session.

“you’re so weird, geez– ah.”

you kneed him again, this time applying more pressure to his cock. you did it to stop his mindless ramble, but also to see that raw reaction again. to see how his lips parted, quivering in pleasure, to see his annoyed eyes roll back at the slightest touch.

to feel how his shaft twitched against your leg.

“were you mid-stroke?”

oh, you were so taking advantage of his weakness, taunting and humiliating theodore for his previous actions. yet, your knee never stopped its ministration, shifting around his cock and applying just enough pressure to take theo’s breath away.

“and because of me, you didn’t finish?”

“f–fuck.”

his hand dropped completely from your head, slipping down your body and sliding right over your problematic knee. and with a harsh thug, he removed your leg altogether, forcing it in the opposite direction.

any sort of control you had over him disappeared.

“i really hate you, y’ know?”

he was angry. really angry. his hand on your knee was strong, pushing at your leg hard enough to hurt. the muscle stretch indeed burned, but so did his eyes. they were focused on your face, part of his gaze wishing to light you on fire and turn you to ashes, part of it to ignite a similar flame within you.

“give me one good reason why i shouldn’t throw you out, hm?”

his beautiful orbs betrayed him, but his tongue still spoke in lies.

he managed to captivate you fully, and for a moment you did not register his question. you only stared back into his eyes, forming a link with the hidden yet burning desire in them. that blazing lust was pouring out of his gaze straight into yours, only to slowly expand all throughout your entire body.

you were submerging in undeniable arousal, and his big hand pressing into your knee was keeping you underneath it all.

“i can help you out.”

so charmed by your own unwavering stare, theo did not registered the movement of your own hand, slowly creeping down his pajama top and sliding downwards to the band of his pants. your fingertips, still cold from theo’s negligence, dipped underneath the waistband in no time, only stopping their trail when reaching his cock.

“s–shit, fuck.”

his cock was heavy and hot in your palm, trembling at the mere contact with your cold fingers. his hips jerked upwards instinctively, his cock slotting deeper in your grip. it was all wet and sticky, covered in precum and what you assumed was theo’s own spit from before, so his shaft glided along your palm nicely.

“so cold, damn.”

a shaky exhale joined his remark, puffed against the crown of your head, as you slowly started to stroke him.

“told you so.”

you merely retorted, smirking against his clothed chest, allowing your hand to pick up a lazy, teasing rhythm. now it was the perfect time to torture him, carefully twisting your wrist and applying more pressure to the underside of his cock, or shamelessly thumbing at his weeping slit.

theodore couldn’t even complain, his tongue caged by a plethora of grunted moans and nonsensical babbles. his incoherence betrayed him, and so did his hand, leaving your poor knee alone and slapping itself on your ass.

with fingers spread out across your pants, he grabbed with vigour your left buttcheek.

“shut it.”

he growled low in his throat, all his pent-up frustration and need vibrating through both of your bodies. his hand was becoming greedier and greedier, groping and squeezing your ass at every harsh tug on his cock. and you had no mercy, sliding your hand up and down his shaft, with so much dexterity.

but when you dipped your other hand lower to his balls, fondling them at with a gentle touch, he too dipped his fingers into your pajama pants.

“oho, what do we have here?”

his warm fingers dragged downwards along your skin, smacking your ass one last time and, finally, dipping lower to your cunt. the tip of his digits pushed underneath your thong, all slutty and wet against your pussy, parting your sloppy fold with a single calculated stroke.

“dirty fucking girl.”

you moaned against his chest loud, unrestricted, taken by surprise by theo’s lack of hesitation at exploring your messy cunt. you could feel his fingers brushing up and down your slit, swimming in your arousal and collecting as much of your wetness as possible.

“all this just from jerking me off?”

he was taunting you, grinning like a little devil into your hair, somehow forgetting how needy and touch-starved he behaved just minutes ago.

you would have reminded him, really, but you couldn’t form one single coherent word as his fingers pressed down harshly on your clit.

“so so needy.”

tight little circles followed soon, his fingers toying with your little bundle of nerves to his heart’s content. theo finally found your irrefutable weakness — as long as he played with your quivering pussy, you were less annoying.

“i kind of like you like this.” theo mused, humming against your head as he peered down at your face. “look at me.”

you were less annoying and more obedient. you immediately listened to his command, raising your gaze up to his eyes, looking at him with your glassy orbs, so full of lust and desperation. your lips were caught between your teeth, already bruised and bullied in the process of quieting down.

but your tiny whines were loud enough for his ears to pick up.

you were so fucking cute.

“is that what it takes, huh? all i have to do is toy with your cunt to keep you in check?

his hand sped up, flicking your clit with the pad of his fingers. your hand on his cock stilled a while back, so overwhelmed by your own pleasure, but theo seems to not care about his release right now.

“what if i eat you out, hm? will you be a good girl for me?”

“theo! good god, yes.”

and here it was, your beautiful cracking voice, finally making its appearance after a good period of only moans and whimpers, accepting theodore’s proposal in a heartbeat. your pleading eyes were a nice touch to it all, making theo conform to your wishes without additional fuss.

“no takebacks.”

it’s all he says, like a warning, before retracting his palm from between your legs. and what he does next makes another glob of arousal gush out of you.

theodore nott removed his hand and directed it towards his mouth to lick it clean.

to lick it clean.

your wetness was all over his lips and tongue as he diligently lapped up all the stickiness from his hand.

“please, god. pleaseplease–”

“yeah, amore, i got you.”

pulling his fingers away from his mouth with a squelching pop, theo then completely discarded the covers of the sleeping bag, throwing the piece somewhere to the side.

“on your back, let me see that pretty pussy.”

you conformed to his words immediately, plopping yourself on your back and even discarding your pants and panties in the process. the garments joined the forgotten covers, the ones you’ve craved since the beginning of your intrusion.

but warmth was no longer important now, as you were practically burning with lust underneath theo’s predatory gaze.

his hands joined your knees again, applying enough pressure to part them away and create a passage for him and his hungry mouth. and no great effort was needed, your legs complying and allowing theo to finally see the mess between them.

“fuck, you’re soaking wet.”

his voice was gritty, disbelief laced with something darker, something feral. he was no longer mocking you — his gaze was locked between your thighs like a starved man, as if the gates of heaven have opened at the same time as your legs.

theo pushed your knees a bit more, just enough for him to slot himself between them. and you gasped as you felt his warm breath fanning over your pussy, your hole twitching in anticipation.

“spread wider for me, amore.”

you didn’t hesitate — again. your thighs stretched further apart for him, your muscles burning yet again from the pressure. but this was something you could handle for the sake of ultimate pleasure.

“fuckin’ perfect.” he muttered briefly and then–

his mouth was on your cunt.

his slippery tongue licked a long stripe from your pulsing entrance to your hard clit, savoring every drop of your arousal just like he did with his hand. your hips jerked upwards into his face, chasing his mouth — yet his arms immediately snaked around the upper part of your thighs, locking you in place and making you take every single flick of his tongue, every single kiss to your swollen pussy.

and when he sucked your clit in his mouth, between his plush wet lips? you sobbed.

“theo– that feels so good, fuck.”

your fingers clutched at his hair, tugging at his messed-up curls, needing something to hold onto as pleasure washed all over you. and that only made him delve into your cunt more, groaning in between your folds and making such vibrations travel straight to your clit.

your enjoyment was clear from miles away, but so was his. if you got extremely wet from fisting his cock, theo also got excruciatingly horny from licking your pussy. his hips were grounded into the sleeping mat, humping the surface in desperation as he lapped at your core.

he has been edged for quite some time now, and he was no longer patient.

he too needed to cum.

“always wanted to eat this pussy.”

theo was so pussy-drunk, god. you would have never in a million years expected theodore nott to announce between slurps and kisses how much he’s dreamed about your cunt.

“y–yeah?”

“yeah. i knew you’d have the tastiest fuckin’ cunt.”

his clothed cock was moving faster against the mat, the wet squelches of theo messily making out with your pussy being joined by the swish-ing sounds of the two materials colliding.

he was definitely close, and so were you.

“this” and he placed a kiss right against your clit. “haunted me all day.”

“shiiit… w–why?”

“your dress was so goddamn see-through, and fuck–”

theo was already picking up the pace, his tongue working harder to make you cum at the same time as him. his fingers even joined in, pulling your pussy lips apart for him to feast better on you, while his nose continued to poke and prod at your bundle of nerves.

“had a boner all fuckin’ day.”

and there it was. the full story on why theodore nott was jacking off before bed and why he was so irritated by your mere presence in his tent: he was affected by you all day and you had no idea.

“‘m sorry, ‘m sorry, ‘m so– ughh.”

you had no time to give him a warning, retorting to weak apologies as you creamed all over his face and tongue. thighs clamming around his head and convulsing from the immense pleasure.

theo, your brother’s best friend, just made you cum in his tent, on a camping trip with all of your close friends.

and that wasn't all.

“ah, shit, wait, wait.”

he didn’t stop.

no, no, no.

theodore continued to lap at your pussy, slurping up all of your release as he continued to jut his hips into the sleeping mat. and, finally, after a couple more seconds, with a guttural moan, he too came, spilling his release inside his boxers.

filthy, pathetic, and so so hot.

he pulled away from your pussy only after his own hips stabilized, moving up from the ground and away from between your legs. his face was wet, incredibly so, yet he was smiling bigger than ever.

with glistering lips and blown-out eyes, you expected theo to say something meaningful about the entire ordeal.

but alas, he was still the idiot friend of your brother.

“someone did eat you. but it wasn’t a bear.”

“oh, shut up.”

you were so done with him and his idiocy. if it weren’t for your shaky legs, you would have kicked him in the shins by now.

“what? you make a tasty meal.”

“nott, stop! you–”

“come tomorrow too.”

oh?

“i will steal condoms from mattheo and fuck you all night, amore.”

your breath hitched.

“… and the next night.”

your legs instinctively parted.

“… and the next night.”

your cunt was already pulsing with need.

 “… but only if you want to.”

“how could i refuse such an offer, nott?”

©dearmisshoney 2025. do not copy, translate, or claim any of my writings or works as your own.

tags: @downbad4reid, @cafechichay, @lov3notts, @nottslove

[riddlesbunny]

rumors

summary: Mattheo and Theo put an end to the rumors they might be attracted to each other one drunken night, but not in the way you’d expect.

pairing: Mattheo Riddle x Reader x Theo Nott

word count: 1k

warnings: Explicit smut, Poly!Slytherins, oral (m & f receiving), MLM!!!, p in v sex, creampie, cum eating, squirting, 18+ MDNI

note: for my sweet angel @nemesyaaa <3

There was no denying that Slytherins loved to gossip– you had even found yourself engaged in a rumor or two. However, when it came to your boyfriend having the hots for his best friend, you were taken by complete surprise. You had even yelled at Millicent for implying such a thing. They didn't like each other like that, they couldn't... could they?

At first, you dismissed it. They were best friends, always together, always in sync. But then you started noticing things. The way Theo’s gaze lingered a little too long when Mattheo wasn’t looking. How Mattheo’s smirk softened whenever Theo was near. The fleeting touches, the stolen glances.

And then came that night.

It started as a joke. A drunk night in the Slytherin common room. The rest of the gang were out at Hogsmeade, but the three of you stayed back. You were sprawled out on the couch, Theo sitting beside you, Mattheo lounging across from you both, his usual cocky grin in place.

Someone—maybe it was you, maybe it was Mattheo, you can't remember —threw the idea into the air like a careless spark.

“What if all three of us… you know?”

The air shifted instantly. Theo went still. Mattheo’s smirk deepened, but his eyes—oh, his eyes—held something different. Something darker. Something real.

You expected laughter, maybe teasing. But instead, there was silence. A charged, heavy silence that made your stomach tighten. Then Mattheo leaned forward, elbows on his knees, eyes locked onto yours.

“Would that be a problem for you?” he asked, his voice lower than usual, almost testing.

Theo exhaled slowly, dragging a hand through his hair. His jaw was tight, his throat bobbing with something unsaid.

And that’s when it clicked. The rumors weren’t just rumors.

You looked between them—Theo, who suddenly wouldn’t meet your eyes, and Mattheo, whose smirk was still there but softer now, like he was waiting for your confirmation.

You had no idea what you’d just stepped into. But you were about to find out.

Now you’re on your knees infront of Theo, nothing new, except now you’re accompanied by his best friend. 

Matty takes the lead, his warm hand wrapping around Theo’s cock. He looks at you, a wicked grin on his lips. “I know how much you like to suck him off,” he states before gesturing towards Theo. That bastard must have been talking about you. Oh well, it didn't matter now.

You lick your lips as you lean forward, sliding your tongue along the tip of Theo’s cock as Mattheo continues stroking him. You wrap your lips around his tip, tasting a bead of precum that forms at the head. Matty guides your movements gently, slowly fucking your mouth with his Theo's cock. Your throat relaxes as Matty controls his pace, salvia pooling out of your mouth, dripping down your chin.

Theo’s eyes flutter shutas a loud groan erupts from his chest, pushing himself further down your throar, causing you to gag. Matty leans into you, whispering, “do you want me to take over?” 

Your heart races and wetness pools at your core as his words register. Nodding, you pull back, leaving Theo slick with your spit. 

Matty smirks at you, “such a good girl,” before taking Theo’s cock deep into his own mouth. His cheeks hollow out as he begins to suck hard, earning a ragged moan from your boyfriend. 

Theo is whimpering as Matty bobs his head, his curls bouncing up and down., you use your free hand to tug at Theo's balls.

Without any warning to Theo, Matty pulls away; a string of saliva connecting the two of them.

"I want to watch you fuck her" Matty tells Theo and you smile at him, wiping the corner of your mouth with your thumb as you sit back on your heels.

 "I guess we should give our boy what he wants,” you purr and Theo helps you to your feet, his gaze filled with lust. He takes charge, guiding you toward his bed with Matty close behind. With a gentle push, Theo lays you down, your body sinking into the soft mattres before hiking your skirt up and ripping your panties off.

"Spread those pretty legs for us," Mattheo commands, his voice hoarse with desire. Theo grips your ankles, pulling your thighs apart until you're fully exposed to them both.

Theo leans between your open thighs, pressing his throbbing cock against your slit. 

"So wet already, you like watching him suck me off, huh? Such a dirty girl," he groans, grinding against you, your arousal coating his shaft.

Theo guides his hardness along your entrance, teasing you with a few slow strokes. Then, with one fluid motion, he plunges into you, making you gasp as your body stretches to accommodate him.

Mattheo stands next to you in the bed, pumping his cock in his hand vigorously. Your gaze shifts towards Matty,, his grip tight and fast as he tugs himself. Theo slams into you hard, pushing you further onto the bed.

“Good boy," Matty moans and your eyes widen, “fuck her just like that.”

Mattheo's breathing hitches as he watches Theo slide in and out of you. The wet sounds of his skin slapping against yours fills the room, punctuated by your occasional whimpers of pleasure.

Theo's thrusts become more urgent, driven by an intense need to fill you completely. "Your pussy feels amazing wrapped around my cock," he groans, his pace quickening.

As Theo pounds into you, Matty leans down and claims your lips with his own. Your mouths mash together, teeth clashing briefly as you moan into each one another.

"Fuck, I'm about to cum,”  Theo grunts.

"Cum inside her," Mattheo groans.

As if the sound of Mattheo's voice turns him on, Theo lets out a final guttural groan as he spills into you, his pulsating cock shooting load after load deep inside your pussy.

As hefinishes, his cock twitching within you, Mattheo wastes no time to push him out of the way. Kneeling before you, he hooks your leg over his shoulder, revealing the hot, sticky mess between your thighs.  He dives in, his tongue lapping eagerly at your slippery folds, collecting the combination of your juices and his best friend's seed.

Mattheo's tongue flicks wildly, painting your inflamed clit with Theo's hot cum as he hungrily devours the remnants of your release.

As Mattheo feasts on your swollen pussy, you feel another orgasm coiling inside you.

Your fingers tangle in his hair, gripping it tightly as he licks you. Your hips buck uncontrollably as Mattheo sucks at your clit, his expert tongue sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body. You cry out, "Oh god, don't stop!"

The coil within you snaps and Mattheo pauses mid-lick, his eyes widening as he feels the sudden flood between your legs. The force of your orgasm sends warm liquid spurting across his cheek, wetting his face and filling his mouth.

Theo chuckles in awe, you watch him carefully as he gets himself dressed.

“See what a good girl she is?” He asks Mattheo— who is speechless, wiping your cum from his chin. 

[nemesyaaa]

no because this man should stop being such a proud whore like omg ???? but this is exactly mattheo fucking riddle 😫 and i cant get enough of his sick attitude. but also love how you write it !!! i can't stop readdddding !!!

They know exactly what they’re getting involved in. He’s not one to hide behind a sweet facade like his friend Berkshire might. Mattheo lays it all out on the table, every little intention, and it’s by your own free choice whether you agree to continue on with the ride. — LMFAOOOO ENZO STRIKE 🤣🤣🤣

His fingers slide behind the barrier of your panties, and he speaks again, enjoying teasing you. “Is that what you're here for? To beg me to fuck you?” — so clever 😴

His hands make haste to caress your waist. “Aw, you're feeling pathetic coming back?" — that's m'y guilty pleasure

“You're pathetic, not deaf, sweetheart.” He retreats his fingers briefly, letting his thumb continue the torturously slow ministrations, relishing in your whine, as he waits for an answer. — « you're pathetic, not deaf, sweetheart » screaming 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 (this is me.)

As he lights his cigarette, he turns to bid you adieu, knowing he doesn’t have to change a single thing about himself. It won't be long before you'll get that desperate tug, like a signal sounding you, the distant call of the carousel that never ends. Continuing to drive hope and delusion into you, desperate for the attraction that is Mattheo. — i will TOTALLY comeback to him. i dont care.

CARAOUSEL

everyone’s a slut for mattheo...and he's well aware

warnings, nsfw 18+, fem!reader, degrading dirty talk, fingering, piv. an: sorry its been so long, so enjoy this 2.7k feral thought, I am posting from the car 🤍

Mattheo collected girls like trophies. They accumulated to him easily as breathing, flocking left and right, eyeing him down the halls with hopeful glances, their mouth salivating like he’s baiting them.

A fish swimming too comfortably, teasing the rabid pack of piranhas. Waiting to sink their teeth into the meal that he is, and maybe he’s sick - for thriving off it, the competition, the blood-thirst, but he can’t help who he is.

The same way he knows they can’t help their desires, defenceless against the sinful temptations that lure them towards him, he knows exactly what effect he has on women. It doesn’t matter how he treats them after the deed is done, discarding them like candy wrappers. They’ll still see him as a god. They still return despite leaving his dorm with a fresh load of shameful baggage.

It’s inevitable, truly, crawling back to him like a dog begging for that last bone. Mattheo knew it and, undoubtedly, so did all the rest. Because every girl is the same, so very predictable - even the ones you might doubt at first end up proving him right, eventually. Because every girl is living with a secret of pile of pure and utter filth buried within and Mattheo’s plenty happy to reveal it to you.

They know exactly what they’re getting involved in. He’s not one to hide behind a sweet facade like his friend Berkshire might. Mattheo lays it all out on the table, every little intention, and it’s by your own free choice whether you agree to continue on with the ride.

That’s part of the fun for him, seeing the way their dignity chips away and they welcome him in, relishing in the delicious humiliation you allow him to feed off. It ignites Mattheo with pure energy, feeding off the desperate souls of eager playthings. He’s yours for the night offering you the full buffet. If not by his looks, then with the filth of his words, that’ll have you eating out of his hand and leaving stuffed.

He finds deep amusement in their fleeting glances as he distracts himself with a cigarette, already moved on from the night's activities. The way hesitancies sit on their tongues as they consider asking him for things they already know he’ll refuse. Wishing to be that one golden exception that makes him beg you to stay, to change him and his ways.

You’re no different, despite the delusion that you may be. You’ve followed in the footsteps of the fallen, walking the same carved path, right back to his den. While some came with more spritely enthusiasm, seeking another round, your head practically hangs, eyes staring down at the lost dignity dragging behind you.

Shame reeking off of you potently as your hand curls into a fist, almost hesitating, pondering the stupid idea that this was. But, nevertheless, you knock with a sense of urgency just like the others had.

He offers you a pleasant grin when he comes face to face with you, leaning against the doorframe. He knows what you're here for and yet he’ll enjoy taking his sweet time in making you wait - dragging out the smell of desperation reeking from you.

He had purposefully answered without his shirt having expected company at this hour, his hair still soaked as he drags a towel across the top roughly, leaving his curls untamed, just how he likes it. 

His eyes shine with amusement at the agitated huff you exhaled, as if he had dragged you there himself.

Arching a brow at your unpleasant expression, he clears his throat with a deep rumble. “Hey now..” He discards the towel behind him, crossing his arms, relishing in the way your eyes flicker like a laser to his bulging muscles, and he rubs his chin in thought. “I don't remember ordering a lonely piece of hot ass."

Your face drops within the second, grumping a response to his sarcastic mockery, making sure he spots your expressive eye roll. "Shut up, you wanker.” 

The sound of your grumble is music to his ears and only makes him laugh as he steps back without a fight, letting you barge your way into his room. His eyes follow your figure, looking down at the curve of your ass as he closes the door behind him, reaching to pull you back into his side.

His hands make haste to caress your waist. “Aw, you're feeling pathetic coming back?"

His eyes study the clear humiliation that lingers in your gaze, eyes that looked so bright and sanguine the last time, but the lust is still clear. It shines through stronger hidden behind the curtain of shame and it makes him grin.

He leans forward, his hands still rubbing your hips in a way that momentarily calms you, and his breath ghosts your ear, his words exhaling with mocking excitement. “It’s ok.” A small nip pinches your ear, “I'll help remind you.” 

He doesn't waste further time with chitchat, his hands sliding beneath your shirt feeling the warmth of your skin, his body; strong and eager, manhandling you up against the wall. His body cages you in a tight embrace as his lips find yours with ravenous enthusiasm. It’s all so hard to keep up with the way his lips mold with yours so naturally, encapsulating feelings of being wanted, desired, like you’re here for more than sex.

Like this isn’t just some sexual arrangement to him, but it's never more than that to Mattheo. Doesn’t matter how alluring the company is, he’s not so easily persuaded, for why only one when he can have a tonne. He’s a man of his word, at least to himself.

That's how he likes it. A man unwilling to be tied down by the chain of commitment, and it’s not like he’s having many complaints. Despite their pouty lips and regretful eyes, he knows they like it. It's why they keep coming back. 

It's why you came back. 

His hands, callous and firm, keep you right where he wants, tangling in the depth of your hairs, pulling at the strands like puppet strings. Every touch is laced with subtle manipulations that he skillfully works into every move, his tongue pushing penetrating past your lips at the constructed gasp, not waiting for permission.

He knows he doesn’t need it, never has, never will.

It’s the way you feel paralyzed on cloud nine, like you don’t mind him doing all the work. The way your body seems to know that it’s time to submit to the pleasures he’s willing to condone. It’s hard to comprehend it all, your mind buried behind a thick layer of cloud, a bog filled with desire and need, each new move leaving you lightheaded.

His hands fondling everywhere and anywhere as he pleases, your hands only able to fist the waistband of his shorts, trying to stabilise the intense arousal burning under your skin. The air greets the tops of your thighs, your skirt whisked off with the utmost speed, making you recall what the gossipers always say; ‘you’ll be naked with just a blink.’ 

Eyes tinting with a lustful overcast, darkening the softer brown to a near complete fullness like there's nothing behind them but pure, carnal need. Mattheo’s fingers dance up the exposed skin, his lips seeking solace against your neck, licking and sucking, creating long-lasting marks. A branding - a reminder he wants you to take away with you, to keep you stuck looping on the longing memory of tonight.

The pad of his thumb presses, rubbing antagonizing slow circles on your clothed clit as if remembering that he has time as long if only to tease you. His kisses grow sloppier, urgent and merciless, trailing higher to those sensitive spots he has memorized, behind your ear that have you whining, your hips bucking up against his hand pathetically.

He grins, flicking his tongue to slither the shell of your ear, the deepness of his voice rumbling out in a chuckle, “just as desperate as last time…it's like you’re begging me to appease that pretty little cunt again.”

His fingers slide behind the barrier of your panties, and he speaks again, enjoying teasing you. “Is that what you're here for? To beg me to fuck you?”

A delicious gasp spills from your swollen lips at the push of his digits, heat flooding your bloodstream at his degrading questioning. Your mind is struggling to seek a clear thought, too focused on the pleasure pulsing through your cunt, his knuckles scraping your walls perfectly.

He watches the way your mouth drops paused in exclamation, eyes fluttering shut, the tilt of your head banging into the wall. It's absolutely euphoric and Mattheo knows this moment is going into his mental folder. For every whimper, moan, plead you offer him stays with him as a medal, a keepsake for his services. 

“You're pathetic, not deaf, sweetheart.” He retreats his fingers briefly, letting his thumb continue the torturously slow ministrations, relishing in your whine, as he waits for an answer. Your body shines with a humiliating glimmer translucent to him and he licks his lips, dipping his head to meet your eye, his free hand resting beside your head casually.

You don’t want to beg. You’re definitely not that desperate. Right?

He raises a brow, sliding his fingers back in between your folds and increasing the pace of his thumb, the sounds of your soaked pussy filling the room. “Mm, no?” He asks sarcastically, continuing his taunting among your whines that are increasing in frequency.

“Fucking wet and for what? A quick fuck? Couldn’t just go to someone new could you...” He laughs, shaking his head, his fingers curling, thrusting faster, “no, because your body belongs to me and it knows it, doesn’t it?” 

Your eyes have since closed during his degrading speech, but you nod rapidly, feeling on the verge of your orgasm, readily willing to do whatever he wants for the trade. 

His laugh echoes his dorm with a deep husk at your pitiful answer, “I know, sweetheart. Gonna be a little slut and make a mess in your pretty panties?” He watches you wither, your hand gripping his arm, denting your nails into his skin as your knees weaken, your climax bursting, coaxing a wave of attainment fulfilling you.

He removes his hand, licking the remnants of your arousal off his fingers and reaching for his shorts. They're off in a second, followed by his briefs, your chest heaving still from the release. You barely get a glimpse at his cock, sitting upright against his abdomen before he spins you, his fingers nudging your back that makes you lean into the wall.

The saturation of your wet panties makes you squirm, arching your back, trying to seek any friction, not even caring anymore how whiny and needy you’re begging. He’s right, it's why you're here after all. Mattheo revels in the sounds that you let loose so uncontrollably. There's no room for secrets. Just raw, unconditional truth.

With firm hands, his fingers knead into your skin like dough, holding your body to ground him as he grinds his cock against your covered pussy. Your bodies slick together in a tight compression of heat and hunger, the dampness coating his length and he rests his chin on your shoulder listening to every breathy whimper and moan you utter. 

“I love girls like you.. who pretend they’re better than the rest.” You're all just the same, slutty, desperate, greedy things wanting him and that's ok. He won't respect you, but he won't judge you, at least not in a way you won't enjoy.

He kisses behind your ear, beginning to push your panties down off your hips - his eyes drifting down to watch in mirth at your immediate response to finish taking them off for him. “Impatient aren’t we.” 

“Please.” 

“Oh, now, the begging starts.” He chuckles lowly, pulling himself back, nudging your legs further apart, he presses a hand to your back, and you instinctively tilt forwards for him. “Atta girl, gonna take me with no complaints, yeah?”

The desperate nod has him smirking, how adorably naïve he hums the thought to himself. With ease, the tip of his cock nudges inwards, pushing between your folds, lathering him fully in your earlier arousal. It's warm and tight like you really haven’t been able to seek anyone else and he groans, a deep hoarse sound at the possessive thought. 

The feel of his cock grazing the depth of your walls makes your head drop, as well as your arm feeling the need to hold yourself at the pressure building.

And then he moves. Hard, forceful thrusts drilling back in repeatedly as you moan out in intense pleasure, unable to keep yourself quiet. His hands squeeze your sides tighter, his lips covering your neck with a litter of bites, the carnal adrenaline coursing through him needing an extra way of release. 

“Fuck–Mm,” He snarls, his voice straining as he configures a sentence from the feeling of your cunt clenching around his cock as if unwilling to let go. “Fuck-shit that’s it.. that’s it squeeze my cock like your life depends on it, like you ain’t enjoying being fucked by me, like this won’t be the last time.”

The way he’s not afraid to be vocal, every groan makes you feel impactful that you’re doing something right. Maybe you could change him and his ways if you just do everything he wants. Your mind consumed with delusion behind every hit of his cock against your cervix, every mocking, belittling degradation, sending a pulse of arousal to your core.

Thrumming waves of desire flow over your body as you whimper, loving everything he gives you; you want to be used by him and it’s only under the touch of him you feel unashamed.

His hand finds familiarity in your hair, tugging on the makeshift reign, and your eyes meet his. Desperate, raw, completely wrecked already, it's a sight worth capturing.

He grins mercilessly, picking up the pace, keeping his eyes locked on yours, threatening to roll back. “Are you happy now? You got what you needed?” His tone is smug and condescending, cockiness reeking off of him with every grunt. “Course you are.”

He knows you're enjoying it and can hear it in every pleased reaction you make. In the way, your eyes close, fluttering like you're falling into a sweet dream. Your hand is right on his wrist as he squeezes you and takes a hold of your throat, relishing in the hitch in your breath.

He knows there will be another time, and that once he shatters you in a moment's time, you’ll leave like you did last time with a stubborn, bitter mutter shamefully admitting what a bad idea this was. But you'll come back.

“Come on… cum for me.” He chants encouraging you, “make me proud like the desperate slut you are.”

His hand squeezes tighter, the airflow suffocating, just enough to the point your head spins and leaves you weak and compliant. Your second orgasm rushing over you like a tidal wave, and you whine a breathless scream before oxygen replenishes back into your lungs. His grip settles back on your waist as he tenses holding you steady as his own hips jerk, his muscles convulsing before he groans out a release.

A shiver runs down the length of your spent body, legs quaking from the bliss still consuming you. Mattheo stays rested on your back for a mere second before he’s pulling out, wanting to detach himself from any accidental acts of intimacy.

He’s polite enough to redress your underwear, but only for the lewd thought of his cum dripping through your panties, sending you packing warm and with a lasting memory that'll have you ready to come his way once more. 

For he knows it doesn’t matter that his back has already turned, disregarding you, his attention now on his permanent vices. He smiles to himself at the sound of the predictable insult your mumble beneath your breath.

As he lights his cigarette, he turns to bid you adieu, knowing he doesn’t have to change a single thing about himself. It won't be long before you'll get that desperate tug, like a signal sounding you, the distant call of the carousel that never ends. Continuing to drive hope and delusion into you, desperate for the attraction that is Mattheo. 

Navigation. Masterlist. Mattheo masterlist. Ty for reading! And Ty to my wife ily!! @amongemeraldclouds divider found here!

[shakespearean-simp]

mattheo and y/n explaining why they got into a fight the other day:

y/n: yeah, well, at least we made up after...

draco: jeez, you got all bent out of shape for that?

mattheo: shit...were we too loud?

draco: ...what? *overprotective brotherly eye-twitch bc y/n is like a sibling to him*

[simp-for-love]

Party game

Mattheo Riddle x fem!reader Nott

Your birthday at Hogwarts takes an unexpected turn when a party game locks you in a closet with none other than Mattheo Riddle—your brother’s best friend. He’s cocky, charming, and far too good at getting under your skin

Warnings: mdni!, smut, oral (f!receiving), fingering, slight exhibitionism (public risk), swearing, Dom-ish Mattheo energy

Word Count: ~2k

A/N: a bit late buuuuut! Happy birthday, @pizzaapeteer ! Love you, cutie patootie 💕

The dungeons were glowing with lights, Slytherin common room thrumming with music and laughter as students spilled drinks, flirted, and played stupid games in celebration of your birthday. You were freshly eighteen, finally of age, and your brother had decided to throw you a party that was half sincere, half his own excuse to drink firewhisky and show off.

You didn’t know whose idea it was. Probably Pansy’s. She always had a flair for dramatics — and just enough recklessness to revive Muggle party games at a Slytherin dorm celebration.

"Seven minutes in heaven," she declared, a wicked glint in her eye. "Birthday girl goes first."

The room roared in approval. Bottles clinked, someone yelled “strip beer pong after!” and Blaise quietly snorted into his drink. You raised your hands in mock defeat, cheeks already warm from all the alcohol and attention.

You cast a glance across the room. Theo was lounging on the couch, half-drunk and grinning, shrugging his shoulders slightly as if saying it's up to you. And just beside him, sprawled back with a glass of firewhisky dangling from his fingers, was Mattheo Riddle.

He was lounging on the velvet couch, dark curls mussed, smirk stretched across his lips as he watched the chaos with sharp, hooded eyes. You’d caught him looking at you three times already tonight. Four, if you counted the moment he tugged on a lock of your hair and told you, “You clean up nicely,” before vanishing toward the drinks table.

Your brother’s best friend. Your personal nightmare. Your—Merlin, you didn’t even know what he was to you anymore.

He was wearing black again. Of course. Sleeves rolled up, hair a bit messier than usual. That same lazy smirk on his face like he knew every dirty thought you’d ever had about him. And maybe he did.

But he was Theo’s best friend. That should make him off-limits. But unfortunately, it made him even more bloody appealing.

"Alright!" Pansy called, clapping her hands as she stepped onto a table. "Let's make it interesting"

A chorus of cheers echoed through the room. You groaned, rolling your eyes, but someone was already grabbing a hat and stuffing names inside.

"Fine, fine. Let fate humiliate me on my birthday" you said with a chuckle.

But your confidence wavered as your fingers dipped into the hat and pulled out a slip of parchment. You unfolded it and nearly choked.

Mattheo Riddle.

You glanced up. He was already looking at you, one brow arched in amusement like he knew exactly what was on that paper.

"No fucking way," Theo said from across the room, clearly having caught a hint.

"Rules are rules, mate," Mattheo said smoothly, standing and downing the rest of his drink. His smirk didn’t budge. "I’m a man of honor."

You were trying not to laugh at his words as someone opened the door to a small broom closet tucked just off the corridor.

Mattheo turned to you, gesturing inside. "Ladies first, Nott," he murmured lowly.

You shuffled inside, brushing past the hanging cloaks and spare brooms, and nearly tripped over a crate of Quidditch gear. Mattheo slid in after you, closing the door with a casual click that echoed like a gunshot in your chest.

It was small. Stupidly small. You barely had room to shift your weight before Mattheo’s chest was brushing yours.

"Well," he drawled, voice low and maddeningly smug, "this is cozy."

You crossed your arms tightly, trying to shield yourself from the sudden proximity. "Don’t start. Try anything and I’ll hex your dick off."

He laughed, the sound rich and far too attractive for his own good. "I haven't even started. Now that’s how you start a birthday celebration. Violence and threats. Very on brand, sweetheart."

You hated that he was right. You also hated that it smells like him in here — cigarettes and something warmer, darker. Like worn leather and trouble. And it clouded your mind more than any alcohol.

"I can feel you staring," you muttered quietly.

"That’s because I am staring," he replied without any shame. "You wore that dress just to make me suffer, didn’t you?"

Your eyes narrowed in the dark, trying to adjust to the lack of light and see his expression. "You’re not supposed to be looking."

"Oh, sweetheart," he said, leaning in until his lips brush the shell of your ear, "I’ve been looking for years."

Your breath hitched. That wasn’t what you were expecting — not teasing, not flirting. Not that. You shifted back, but there was nowhere to go in the small space. His hands were on either side of your hips now, caging you in, though he wasn’t touching you. Not yet.

"Theo’s going to kill you if he finds out," you reminded him. Or yourself. You weren’t so sure anymore.

"Then I guess we better not do anything worth killing me over," he murmured velvety. His breath ghosted over your skin, making you shiver in anticipation. "Unless... You’re the birthday girl. Which means I should probably give you a present."

You scoffed slightly. "And what, exactly, do you think I want right now?"

His grin turned slow, dangerous. "I think you want me to kiss you."

You exhaled sharply, feeling hyperaware of his proximity, of this whole situation. "Mattheo, we are not making out in a broom closet," you tried to say firmly, but failed miserably.

"You sure?" he teased softly. And you could swear he was smirking right now. "Cause your heart’s beating like you really want to."

You lunged to shove him — playfully, just to push him back and win some space to breathe — but in the dark, your hand landed against his chest. Solid muscle. Heat. And his fingers caught your wrist before you could pull away. He didn’t let go.

"You always this feisty when you're turned on? I like it," he murmurs lowly.

"You think very highly of yourself." Your cheeks were burning now. And you didn’t quite know whether it was from embarrassment at the truth in his words or from the heat in the stuffed closet.

"No," he said, gently tugging your hand to his lips, brushing a soft kiss over your knuckles, "I think very highly of you."

Silence fell between you — tense, electric.

"I’ve seen the way you look at me,” he added, voice a bit rougher now. "Always when Theo’s not looking. Like you want me to pin you against the nearest wall and ruin your perfect little birthday hairstyle."

You should’ve slapped him. You should’ve hexed him. You should’ve marched out of this closet and pretended this never happened. But your body wasn’t listening.

Then Mattheo leaned in and kissed you. And it was nothing like you expected. It was slow at first, teasing — his lips just barely ghosting over yours, like he was testing you, giving you the chance to pull away.

You didn’t.

You kissed him back, hands fisting in the front of his shirt as heat coiled deep in your stomach. He groaned softly into your mouth, one hand sliding to your waist, the other tipping your chin up so he could kiss you harder, deeper.

It was filthy. Desperate. Like he’d wanted this for a long time and didn’t trust himself to stop. He tasted like firewhisky and sin, tongue pushing past your lips as you opened for him.

"Fuck," he breathed out, pulling back just enough to look at you in the dark closet. "You’re going to be the death of me, you know that?"

You smirked slightly, dizzy from the heat, from the intoxicating taste of his lips. "You started it."

"Yeah," he said a bit roughly, not being ashamed even a little, "and I’m gonna finish it, too."

He kissed you again, deeper this time, tongue sliding against yours as his hand dragged slowly up your thigh, hitching your dress higher, sending shivers up your back. You couldn't help but let out a soft gasp against his lips.

"We’ve only got a few minutes," he murmured heatedly. "Better make them count, don't you think?"

You should’ve told him to stop. You should’ve reminded him that anyone could open the door, that your brother was just across the room, that this was reckless, and wrong, and—

But when his fingers slid beneath your panties and grazed over your already-wet heat, the only thing that came out of your mouth was a soft, broken moan.

Mattheo chuckled darkly against your neck. "Fuck… this is what I get for being a gentleman all these years?"

You were about to respond — something sharp and smart — but then two fingers slid between your folds, and your whole body jolted, leaning into his touch.

He groaned again, low and wrecked. "So fucking wet already. You want this as bad as I do, don’t you, sweetheart?"

You nodded. You had to, because your mouth wouldn’t work. Not when his fingers were teasing circles around your clit, not when his other hand was slipping the strap of your dress off your shoulder to expose the swell of your breast.

He bent down and took your nipple into his mouth, hot and demanding, sucking softly while his fingers rubbed slow, torturous patterns between your legs. You gasped, arching into him. "Fuck, Mattheo."

"Say it again," he murmured lowly, biting your nipple gently. "Say my name like that."

"Mattheo," you repeated breathlessly without a second thought, being too lost in the sensations, and he groaned like it was the most beautiful sound he’d ever heard.

He dropped to his knees in the narrow space, lips grazing your inner thigh in soft kisses as he slid your soaked panties down. "Best party game ever," he said, and before you could process his words or the wicked gleam in his eyes, his tongue was on you.

He licked you like he was starving, like he’d dreamed of this exact moment for so long — and fuck, maybe he had. You weren’t sure when your back hit the wall or when your fingers desperately tangled in his curls, but you couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t do anything but roll your hips into his mouth, wanting, needing more.

He moaned against you as he was enjoying it as much as you did, tongue flicking fast and filthy against your clit, two fingers thrusting inside you deep and slow, curling just right.

"You taste like sin," he muttered, voice muffled against your heat. "Like the best fucking mistake I can ever make."

One of his hands slid up your waist beneath your dress, possessive, comforting, his. Mattheo ate you out like it was all he’d ever known, like the party outside didn’t exist, like your brother’s voice could never echo behind the door, like he’d stay on his knees for you until the world burned down around him.

Your legs started to shake. You were getting close, so fucking close.

"Come for me," he said hoarsely, voice muffled against your cunt. "I want to feel you fall apart on my tongue."

And when he sucked just right and stroked that spot deep inside you— You shattered. Your moan was raw, almost desperate, your thighs squeezing around his head as your orgasm crashed over you, white-hot and absolutely overwhelming.

He rode it out, licking you through it, not stopping until you were gasping his name and pulling at his curls with shaking fingers.

He stood up, licking his lips with a smirk, eyes dark with heat.

"Happy birthday," he whispered roughly and smugly.

You let out a breathless laugh, still completely dazed from the intense climax. "If you tell Theo, I’ll kill you," you mumbled raggedly.

He grinned like you said something amusing. "Tell him? Sweetheart, I’m trying to figure out how to do it again without him finding out."

A sharp knock cut through the haze.

"Time’s up!" Theo’s voice, way too close. "If I open this door and you’re in a compromising position, I swear to Merlin—"

Mattheo leaned in, pressing a final brief kiss to your jaw.

"Compromising?" he murmurs with a grin. "Never. I was just giving the birthday girl what she really wanted."

[bellatrixscurls]

group activities ii

part one here

pairing : fem reader x slytherin gang x golden trio.

warnings : SMUT. slight choking, nipple play, reader is a virgin, oral (f receiving), dirty talk, teasing, pet names, reader almost has a panic attack, talk of virginity and sex. lmk if i missed any! :)

summary : the slytherin boys have their way with you, but what about those who get left out?

a/n : i hope this is what you expected, feedback is greatly appreciated and needed.

────── ☾ ──────

the next days were a blur. you were not ignoring your friends any longer, but you could tell that they were treating you rather differently.

first, ron started to hold the door for you, theo brought you extra sweets from honeydukes and draco would give you his homework without you even asking.

what was happening? you were almost positive you knew the reason behind it all. so, whilst in transfiguration, you slipped hermione a note.

“can i see you after class?”

she looked at you, a confused expression on her face, but she nodded nonetheless.

you smiled appreciatively and went back to listening to professor mcgonagall, not remotely aware of the pairs of eyes following your every move: tom, mattheo and blaise.

they were concerned. well, they did have a reason to be - you weren’t ignoring them any longer, but you were acting rather differently, not really giving them the time of the day either.

“what do you think she wrote?” blaise nodded his head in your direction, nervously playing with his feather.

mattheo looked up, his eyes focused on the back of your head as if he could read your mind. but seeing that it was no use, his head dropped on the desk. “if only we knew someone who’s learned the art of occlumency.”

“she’s wondering why you lot are acting so unusual since that day” tom hummed, rolling his eyes as he neatly put his notebook back in his school bag. “and it’s legilimency, idiot.”

blaise winced incredulously as he looked back at his friend. “us? i’m sorry you wanna be picked so bad that you’re willing to act nonchalant and humble about it.”

“it’s a skill” he smirked, finally standing up to leave as professor mcgonagall dismissed the class.

“you know, sometimes i feel like we’re so alike” mumbled mattheo happily, earning a dangerous glare from his brother.

watching them whisper to one another, you shook your head - mattheo shoved his brother, who, as unbothered as ever, brushed a hand over his robes while exiting the class.

and you could bet you knew the reason.

“ready to go?” hermione’s soft voice pulled you out of your thoughts, her smile bright as she looked at you.

“sure” you returned the smile, ushering her out of the room with a hand at the small of her back. and once you were positive you were out of earshot, the other students already heading towards the great hall, you spoke up. “listen, i know how this might seem, but you’re the only girl in the group… what’s gotten into them?”

she sighed, using her middle and pointer finger to rub at her temple; this was a discussion she thought she’d never have to have again, not with another girl anyway.

“they… they want you to pick them. each of them wants to be the one to claim your virginity. to claim you.”

“to claim me?” you were beyond confused, you really didn’t think your virginity was such a big deal. at least to you it wasn’t. “have they done the same to you? when you were- you know.”

she laughed softly at your nervousness, gently rubbing your back through your robe. “have you met them? of course they did. but- well, yes, they did.”

your ears perked up at her hesitation. “but?” you questioned rather alarmedly. “but what, mione?”

she took a deep breath before speaking, and you hated how that made your stomach churn. “they were not as possessive back then. they weren’t aware how much it meant. because whoever it is that you choose to do it with, it creates a special bond between you. it’s the first person you feel comfortable doing these things with, the first who gets to kiss every inch of your skin, explore your body” it looked like she was in a haze, daydreaming of the day she’d lost hers.

“oh, i understand” you nodded slowly. “so… who took yours?” you asked even though you could already guess.

“enzo” bingo. and how could you not guess? they were practically always together, always looking out after each other.

humming, you fell deep in thought. how could you ever choose between them? they were all your friends, and you’d never forgive yourself if your decision would hurt any of them or make them feel left out.

so you shook your head, toying with the ring on her finger as you leaned back against the wall. “i could never choose, mione. i don’t want to. i don’t want this to be such a big deal, i just want to get it over with so we can move on and fuck unlimitedly.”

your words made her burst out laughing, softly biting on her lip as a few students passed, and she took your hand in hers, guiding you to to the great hall too. “if you want to be a part of this, you will have to choose. but they won’t pressure you, if there’s one thing that they hate is feeling like they pressured each other into doing something, especially sexual… you have time.”

you nodded and finally, reaching the table, you sat down between draco and tom. “good morning” you greeted softly as you started filling your plate, your mind wandering.

“hey, y/n/n” theo reached over the table to squeeze your hand, a sincere smile on his lips, before draco kicked him under the table, the older boy hissing as he glared at him.

you didn’t really notice that though, you were too busy trying to figure out what you were gonna do.

but the boys seemed to notice that. the way you, so absentmindedly pushed at your meal with your fork, the boiled eggs smashing and the yolk leaking out of them. “woah, what have they done to you, sweetheart?” enzo’s voice was teasing, but in his own soft, characteristic way.

you looked at him, and he frowned at the confused, almost lost look on his face. then back at your eggs, your meal positively looking like a crime scene. “sorry” your voice was soft, barely audible. “m sorry, i’m not even hungry. i don’t know why i even took them.”

your nerves were growing and everyone could sense that, hence why they all shared concerned glances and only tom dared to speak. “can you focus on me? look at me, please” his voice was not like anything you’d heard before. it was soft and gentle, and he placed a hand on your arm, his slender, pale fingers squeezing loosely.

looking up at him, you tried your best to focus on his eyes. his eyes were so beautiful, a gorgeous shade of a deeper blue, and you could swear that you saw the ghost of a smile on his lips, but he quickly regained composure. “do you want to go back to the common room? lay down on your dorm maybe?” he asked and you nodded, arm curling around his own as he stood up, taking you with him.

🤍

you all but threw yourself on the bed, the boys sitting around you - tom and blaise were sitting on the rug by your bed, theo on your armchair, all while draco, enzo and mattheo shared the couch.

“i’m sorry” your voice made them perk up, their expressions almost unreadable, but one thing was for sure - they would do anything to make it better.

“what for, lovie?” asked blaise, his hand twitching as he almost grabbed your hand, but decided against it.

you sighed, mind wandering back to the day before. you had done the same thing : you moped around on the great hall and they had to take you back to the common room. “i’m being a baby. i just… i don’t want to choose.”

theo frowned. “choose what, dolcezza?”

“between you guys” avoiding their eyes, you started playing with tom’s family ring, his hand on the bed just by your head. “i talked to hermione today, and she explained the whole special bond thing, but i… i like all of you. i don’t want a special bond.”

enzo blushed, trying his best to hide his face by leaning his head forward, chin resting on his chest. mattheo nudged him playfully, messing up his perfect hair and causing the boy to whine.

“oh, baby” draco’s voice was soft as he approached the bed, but not before slapping enzo on his crotch. before you knew it, the bed dipped slightly and draco sat by your side, looking down at you lovingly. “we’ve been stupid, making you feel like you had to choose one of us to be your first. we’ve done stupid things and you’ve almost had a panic attack because of it.”

you didn’t say anything, just looked up at him, and the boys all seemed to had gotten closer too. “i don’t want any of you to feel less important. i’ll gladly let you all fuck me.”

you hadn’t realized what you said before it was too late, and even you were shocked. the boys all looked at you like you’d grown two more heads, and you flushed furiously, cheeks now a deep crimson.

“is that right, sweet thing? look at her, boys” mattheo’s voice was taunting, his signature smirk widening as he took a few steps closer to you. “i believe this poor thing only wants us all to feel good, to be able to feel her tight pussy for the first time ever. how sweet is that?”

“so sweet” theo’s voice had turned a lot deeper, need present in his tone. he had that look on his face. the one you’d seen before, directed at you.

“whenever you’re ready, angel, and whoever has you first…” blaise grinned, his hand coming down to caress your voice, your chest rising up and down rapidly. “this pussy’s not going unruined.”

your breath got caught in your throat and you almost choked at the intensity of it all. heat pooled in your tummy as they looked at you, hunger evident in their prying eyes.

“i want it” it was a soft whisper, a breathless, needy confirmation. and when tom’s eyes found yours, you knew you were in for it.

he was usually the most composed one, but in these past couple of days, he’d shocked you. he could be loving, caring and could even lose his composure around the right people. you’d seen glimpses of it before, but never like this, never so vulnerably.

his eyes seemed to twitch, so subtle that you almost missed it. he finally standed, making you feel small under his gaze. “how about we get her wet first, boys? oh, wait-” you didn’t expect it, but in the blink of an eye, tom had pulled your skirt up over your hips, curling two fingers around the hem of your panties.

you were drenched. you couldn’t even get out the gasp that was hanging in your throat, because his fingers just felt so good on your throbbing clit. everyone was silent as he worked on you, spreading your wetness over your slit and holes. “she’s so wet already. what’s gotten you so wet, baby?”

finally managing to gasp and whimper needily, you looked up at him, and he smirked at your helpless state. you looked limp and he fucking loved every second of it.

“answer tom, pretty. he might just stop making you feel good if you don’t” mattheo came to stand at his brother’s side, one arm resting against tom’s shoulder, and for the first time, he didn’t push him away or make a snarky remark. “you know how he gets.”

you whimpered out a soft ‘you’ and that instantly made tom’s eyes sparkle. in a moment of weakness, his thumb started rubbing your clit, and before you knew it, mattheo started massaging over your hole with two fingers. it was a feeling that you could not describe. nothing that you’d felt before.

their fingers felt so good on you, far better than all those time you had gotten off on your own. “t-tom- matty, please” you cried out, your legs begging to shake from the pleasure you were receiving. the way tom was pressing against you, and how mattheo was so close to making you scream on his fingers - it made you dizzy.

“ow, angel” draco was still sitting beside you, his eyes watching you and studying your reactions very carefully. he raised his hand and started stroking your jaw, his cold fingers making you shiver as the boys continued their assault on your cunt, causing you to jolt when tom would occasionally press too hard on your clit.

you looked up at the blond, growing more desperate to have all of their hands on you, your nipples getting harder and achy by the minute. he saw the way you shifted, and when your hard nipples pressed against your white top, the corner of his lips tilted upwards.

“you need my hands, y/n/n?” his hand slowly made its way down your neck, squeezing at the base of it for merely a second before it slid lower. you shivered in anticipation and he carefully pulled your top down, freeing your boobs - you were not wearing a bra. he groaned. “fuck, what are you doing to me?” and he looked into your eyes as if he was really waiting for an answer, but unfortunately you couldn’t give it to him if you wanted.

truth be told, you had not planned any of this. it all just worked out in your favour.

he brought both his hands to cup your breasts, squeezing gently as he watched them bounce back to their original shape, nipples looking eager to be - licked, bitten, tortured - by him.

draco wanted to tease you, he really did. but you looked way too delicious, so he didn’t hesitate and started sucking greedily on your nipple, one of his hands squeezing and pulling at the other one. you could hear him, even if your ears were ringing due to tom and mattheo’s attempts to make you lose your mind. draco was panting, not wanting to pull away from your boobs for one second. it really was a sight for sore eyes.

“feels g-good” you moaned loudly and tangled your fingers in his hair, your attention finally turning back to the boys between your thighs.

mattheo cleared his throat and when you looked at them, tom was wearing an annoyed expression. “didn’t forget about us, did you?” he asked pointedly, and retracted his hand, leaving you squirming for more.

but before you had the chance to blurt out an apology, mattheo spoke up. “i think you’re wet enough, sugar.”

but he didn’t continue, he didn’t make you feel like you had to do something more than that. he left it up to you.

“i want enzo to eat me out” your voice was small and said boy looked at you in shock, that it almost made you take your words back. but before you could do it, he was already on his feet - ready to do anything you pleased.

hermione had told you that enzo was good with his hands and mouth, and you were doing nothing but trying to test that theory.

he looked beyond excited as he looked at your cunt. it was glistening with wetness and a bit of sweat, and your clit looked mouth-watering; it was so swollen and hard.

“you are beautiful” was all enzo said before he buried himself between your legs, his hands holding you as if you were made of glass. “so so beautiful, you look divine” his voice was breathy as he nosed at your clit, pressing a soft kiss there.

draco, on the other hand, was grazing his teeth against your sensitive buds, making your toes curl and your pussy throb at the sensation. his mouth was perfection.

sponging a wet kiss on his temple, a broken cry was ripped from your throat as enzo slipped two fingers inside you, much too easily. his tongue sucked at the bundle of nerves that was your clit, sometimes exploring your sopping folds. “so sweet” he mumbled against you, his mouth not once leaving your heat as he curled his fingers inside of you, hitting a spot that made your eyes roll back into your skull.

“thank you, thank you, thank you-” tears were streaming down your face as you watched the other boys through blurry eyes.

mattheo and tom were jerking off, their cocks red and looking painfully hard, whilst blaise was watching the scene in front of him intently, and you did see his fingers twitching, probably needing to grab at you, but not daring to.

“kiss me” it was a broken plea that earned you quite a few confused glances, even enzo looking at you curiously from between your legs, not once resuming his work. “blaise- baby, kiss me” you whimpered, and kissing you he did.

he pressed his lips against yours, his hand gripping your jaw and holding you in place as he dominated the kiss. he tugged at your bottom lip and you whined, chasing his mouth. “so fucking needy” he groaned and smashed his lips against yours again; the kiss was messy, all tongue and teeth, spit glistening on your chin. “you just need us all, don’t you? you need us to please this desperate, perfect body of yours.”

his teeth sank into the underside of your jaw and you yelped in pain, your fingers digging into the back of his neck. “yes, yes i do!- i’m- i need all of you, i need you to make me feel good.”

“atta girl” mattheo spoke up as he tugged at his cock, his eyes moving from your cunt to your bare chest. “are they making you feel good, angel?”

you hummed and felt the knot in your belly about to snap, enzo now sucking harshly and bullying his fingers into your cunt at a pace that had your legs trembling uncontrollably, but fortunately draco was there to catch you. he placed a firm hand on your thigh, grounding you as he kept sucking and biting at the tender flesh.

“m gonna cum” you choked out and started shaking again, this time not even draco’s force being able to help calm you down. “please, please- i need to cum” you asked for permission, but you didn’t even know who was it that you were asking.

enzo used his free hand to caress your belly, his sweet eyes looking up at you. lost in them, you didn’t even notice when theo stood and walked over to you, his fingers forcing you to look up at him as he spoke lowly, his voice firm and steady. “look up at me when you do” he demanded and you nodded fervently, biting at your bottom lip.

in a matter of seconds, you were cumming. your heart was racing - so much so that it felt like it was trying to get out of your chest - you were sweating and your hands were gripping at anything you could find - draco’s shoulders, enzo’s hair, the sheets.

your walls spasmed around enzo’s skilled fingers, your clit fluttering as he sucked on it, refusing to let go as he moaned against you, his eyes rolling back as he started humping the bed. your cum was heavenly - the taste, how it dripped down his fingers, everything was pure perfection.

and what was even better? theo’s eyes were analysing your every move. how your lips pursed, how your muscles tensed - the way your eyes watered as you struggled to keep them open.

“you’re just perfect, principessa. you did so good” he praised as he leaned in, placing a soft kiss on the tip of your nose.

you breathed out a laugh as you tried to recover from your orgasm and the overwhelming sensations you had gone through, but you had little to no time to do that, because the door flung open and revealed the golden trio.

harry was more pissed than ever judging by the look on his face and his clenched fists, ron was just red with fury, and hermione just looked disappointed, her brown eyes seeming more dull than ever before.

“and what the fuck do you think you lot are doing?”

────── ☾ ──────

[nottswitch]

— if you’ve been nice, you get…

────────────────── 𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐫. ──

summary: your boyfriend’s return from one of the meetings with his father is always a gamble, a shot it the dark. this time, he simply needs you close.

pairing: mattheo riddle x reader

cw: 18+ smut, established relationship, fingering, oral (f receiving), p in v, unprotected sex, creampie, body worship, cockwarming, praise, cursing

wc: 1.8k

a/n: soft smut with mattheo always has a place in my heart <3 enjoy!

⟡ navigation ; m.lists ; mattheo m.list ; kinkmas 2024

────────────────────────

A knock on the door of your dorm in the middle of the night was not a surprise – ever since Mattheo left a few hours ago, you’d been waiting, waiting and waiting. He did tell you to get some sleep, as usual, and as usual, you didn’t listen; not that you deliberately tried to go against him, you just couldn’t sleep at all. You never could – not when he was possibly being hurt by his maniac of a father while you were comfortable in a warm but very lonely bed. So, when a quiet thump echoed through the room from the other side of the door, you felt your heart fluttering and dropping to your stomach at the same time.

Mattheo was back. But you didn’t know if he was back in one piece.

You nearly bolted out of the bed, hurrying to open the door – the last thing you wanted was making Mattheo wait. As soon as you turned the handle, he stumbled into the room, his arms wrapping tightly around you. You could almost feel the anxiety radiating off him, evident in the slight tremble of his hands caressing your back, in the shaky exhales fanning the crook of your neck, in the way his foot punched the door close behind him with way more force than needed.

“Baby,” you murmured, your own arms sliding up to embrace him as well. You felt up his back and sides, unconsciously searching for any signs of wounds or bruises, your ears tuned to hear the faintest hiss that could potentially escape his mouth. When you, thankfully, didn’t hear anything like that, you allowed yourself to pull away a bit, searching his face with a relieved yet still worried look in your eyes. “How–”

Mattheo didn’t let you finish, crashing your lips together in a kiss filled with nothing but pure desperation, as if he was trying to reassure himself that you were real, that you were physically there, in front of him, in his arms. You closed your eyes, letting him feel your presence and enjoying his, your hands soothingly moving up and down his back and shoulders. His right hand cupped your cheek as the kiss started losing its intensity, the movements of his lips mellowing out into tenderness.

“Need you close, princess. Please,” Mattheo whispered into your mouth, continuing to kiss you right after. You didn’t need words to understand him at the moment, but his pleading voice painfully tugged at your heartstrings, and you immediately understood everything he was trying to say.

“You have me, baby. I promise,” you whispered back, keeping the tremble out of your voice as best as you possibly could. Mattheo couldn’t do that, letting out a shaky breath through his parted lips. His hands moved down your body, a firm touch remembering each and every single inch of it, before he lifted you up, squeezing the back of your thighs. He carried you towards the bed, his steps urgent yet soft at the same time, gently lowering you onto the sheets.

His fingers hooked under the edge of your sleeping shirt, pulling it up to bare your skin – the contact Mattheo craved like a starved man would crave a crumb of bread after years of famine. His lips moved from yours down your jawline, latching onto your neck in a second, his tongue flicking out to taste the sweetness of it. He wasn’t leaving marks this time, like he usually did, as if he didn’t have enough strength to do it – he simply needed to know that your skin was still there, available for him to taste, that no one had taken away the privilege of being this close to you yet. His hands caressed your stomach, your waist, your chest, kneading the soft flesh of your breasts as if it was the last time he would be able to touch them. He was constantly afraid that it would be, especially right now, which made him savour each moment spent doing what he loved most in this world.

“My beautiful girl,” he whispered, lavishing your collarbones with wet, sloppy kisses. His eyes flicked up to your face for a moment, and you saw desperation still written all over his features, manifesting in the time he took to make sure not a single millimeter of you remained unloved. “The sweetest little thing in this entire fucking world.”

The trail he left all over your body, down your torso, to the waistband of your pajama pants made you shiver from anticipation. You wanted him in more ways than one, but you knew that he needed to feel all of you, which made you hold back on begging him to take you already. Although you couldn’t suppress the moans and whines that left your lips in a delightful string, the sound being angel’s music to Mattheo’s ears. He needed to hear you, to have proof that he was the one making you feel good, giving you pleasure – the only state he wanted to see you in that moment, lost in him and his touch.

Your pants were pulled down and discarded in a gentle yet somewhat hurried manner, Mattheo’s lips instantly attaching to your inner thighs. He kissed his way up, nuzzling his nose into your already dripping pussy before diving in. He had no intention to tease you right now, his aching heart screaming for him to be buried between your legs, the place he was sure he belonged in; and you were letting him, your needy sighs and pretty moans filling the quietness of the dimly lit dorm. It was all he asked for, and he got even more than that – your fingers tangled into his curls, your nails lightly scratching his head, making him moan right into you. Mattheo felt your wetness dripping down his chin and onto the silky sheets, but it didn’t matter – nothing mattered other than being completely and utterly consumed by you.

His fingers eagerly slipped into your entrance, curling and pressing into the spot he knew made you moan louder, relishing the feeling of your walls squeezing him – a sign that you were close, close to coming undone because of him.

“Need you to cum for me, sweet girl,” he murmured against your folds, his voice muffled, desperate, wanting. He felt a burning need to make you his, even though you already were, in every sense of the word – but he needed to reaffirm that.

“God, Matty, I-” Your words died down, turning into a whimper when he started pumping his fingers faster, his tongue swirling around your throbbing clit. Your release was accompanied by a tug at his hair, which nearly made him sob – he lapped everything up, slurping sounds riling you up all over again.

The path of Mattheo’s lips up your body, straight to your lips, was marked by your juices trickling out of the corners of his mouth that he made no effort to wipe away. You tasted yourself when he kissed you once more, one of your hands wrapping around his shoulders to pull him close. Mattheo pulled away the tiniest bit, just enough to take off his sweatshirt and pull down his jeans and boxers, tightly pressing against your right after. The skin-to-skin burned into both of you, your body still warm from lying in bed before he came, and his being the flaming heater it usually was.

“Please, love,” he muttered, his voice hoarse after everything he was doing just a minute ago. You felt his cock pressing between your thighs, the slight overstimulation of your sensitive pussy making them clench around his hips and lift up, searching for the friction you never had enough of. “I need you so bad.” His voice cracked at the last word as he felt your heat against him, his length twitching at the contact.

“You have me,” you whispered, reassuring him once again that you were his, and he could get what he so fiercely wanted. He took in a sharp breath as you shifted beneath him again, urging him to finally take you – and he was more than willing to show you how important you were to him, how he’d give you everything he had and then some.

Mattheo’s cock slid inside of you in a slow and gentle way, filling you up inch by inch until his crotch was firmly pressed against you. You gasped, pulling him down for another kiss, and he easily obliged, his lips moving against yours in a gentle but eager way. He started thrusting his hips back and forth, your walls squeezing him in a way that made him groan into your mouth, the satisfaction of being buried in you making its way to his brain and heart.

“Love you so fucking much, baby,” he nearly whimpered out, the air growing hot between your faces as both of you panted, the pleasure enveloping you in a warm, tingly blanket. “I can’t lose you. Ever. You hear me, sweet thing?”

“You won’t– Ah, fuck…! You won’t lose me,” you replied in an equally wanton voice, your words breaking up as the tip of his cock hit the spots that sent your mind into the kind of overdrive that chased all thoughts away, leaving the feeling of him, just him. Mattheo cupped your cheek, gazing at you with that intense affection that only he was capable of, his deeply brown eyes vulnerable, unable, unwilling to hide the entirety of his emotions, the love he felt just for you.

“Never letting you go, baby. Never in my goddamn life.”

You came together, the moment a manifestation of the connection you shared, the climax bringing you closer than ever, which was barely possible. Mattheo lowered himself onto the bed next to you, wrapping his arms around your waist and bringing you to him, his hands mindlessly tracing circles on your back. You felt his cock softening inside of you, but he made no effort to pull out, drops of his release seeping out and onto your inner thighs.

“Can I stay inside? Please?” he asked, his eyes pleading as he looked at you, searching your face for, hopefully, an agreement. “I’ll wash the sheets tomorrow, just… please, love?”

You smiled, not entirely surprised by his request – it wasn’t the first time he needed to be as close to you as possible, which meant being inside of you in the most literal sense.

“Of course, baby,” you replied, giving him a small kiss on the lips. How could you deny him anything when he was looking at you like that?

Mattheo let out a satisfied hum and snuggled up to you, burying his face in your hair. As you dozed off, he felt his anxiety melting away just a bit – it never truly left, but at least in that moment, he could feel your warm body next to him and know that he got to love you and keep you.

[muntitled]

COULD U DO MATTHEO X F READER DURING HER OVULATION WEEK AND SHES SUPER NEEDY AND HORNY? (Pls I’m ovulating and craving ur fics so bad babe😭🙏🧎🏼‍♀️)

I love how feral this is lmfao -

𝐍𝐨 𝐓𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐇𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐬 | 𝐌.𝐑.

Mattheo Riddle x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Established Relationship, Dark Fic, Violence, Language, Mention of drugs and alcohol, Slight fluff, Public Affections, Possessiveness, Smut (+18), Dirty Talk, Touch starvation, Fingering, Humping, Grinding, Whining, Sub/Dom Undertones, Blood Kink, Fighting Kink?, Squirting, Major Degradation, Praise Kink, Breeding Kink, Slight Humiliation Kink

The night is deep, and the dungeon is dim as a few sunken eyes peer curiously at you while you make your way through the crowd. Seeing you emerge from within the walls of your private dorm room was a rare and curious sight for everyone involved. It was especially rare for you to embed yourself amongst your fellow pupils shenanigans, seeing yourself as above such baseless devilment.

You were not here for them.

You were scanning the crowd for him because an unfamiliar warmth had been festering inside your stomach and it had propelled your feet forward, until you reached the very centre of the Slytherin soiree commencing in the common room.

Your core is still aching with the after affects of your fingers as you manoeuvre your way through the party. You were touching yourself under satin sheets only moments ago-spurred on by the imaginings of his bloodied fingers slipping inside you, stabbing your cunt until you mewled like a useless whore and he affirmed you as such. His recklessness and delinquency cracked something vital in your brain and you felt yourself get wetter as you pushed through the crowd. You needed him to touch you, your body practically burned for him to absolutely ruin you, and you set out to do just that.

Although you had turned down a concoction of Firewhiskey from an already inebriated Ravenclaw student, your stomach burns with the anticipation of seeing him.

Feeling him.

Smelling his near constant fragrance of Firewhiskey along his lips. You were never clingy but you wished for nothing more than to be in the presence of your insufferable and clingy boyfriend.

A month into your courtship, and you had failed to bring up how much of his habits bypass all sensibilities in your brain. If only he knew how much his recklessness brought about an unmistakable moisture in between your thighs. That,coupled with his bruised and bloody knuckles, spurred on your need, especially during this time of the month.

It had been easy to maintain your composure throughout the rest of the month, effortless, even. Detachment and independence was a by-product of your personality, showing up in the way you shied away from Mattheo's public affections and always appearing uninterested in any of his verbal charms.

One such occasion; you had found him taking up purchase on your bed after an incredibly tiresome day as a Slytherin prefect.

"Make yourself scarce, Riddle. I'm not in the mood," He, of course, was delighted in your indifference- truthfully, he basked in it. Mattheo was somewhat of a masochist, craving the attention of someone so emotionally detached. The very second he noticed how unaffected you appeared with his shenanigans. He might as well have transfigured into a mermaid, because he was hooked.

"How easy you are to repel my affections," He said, letting a bandaged hand fall on his chest as he lay supine like a starfish on your Satin sheets, "How swiftly you deny my companionship-"

"Dont you have any orphans to torture?"

You mourn the past you... how indifferent she had been.

How utterly in control!

The bed dipped as he slithered closer, letting a hand rest on your shoulders as he began to knead the tense muscle there.

"Don't I get a 'How was your day, Riddle?' How did you sleep, Riddle? How did you acquire these bruises, Riddle, and I hope you looked hot doing it, Riddle" it was then that you glanced at the hand on your shoulder. Busted knuckles bred bloodied and broken skin. Riddle's hand was a smorgasbord of cuts and bruises that disappeared up his black, cotton sleeve shirt. You ignored the useless warmth knotting in your core as you continued to undo your shoelaces.

"I needn't ask you because I know you were in the centre of yet another degenerate fight," you had said, burying all the feelings of need amongst your usual, scholarly distractions.

"You love it"

"I hate it actually. It makes me question my affiliation with you.

"You say that princess, but you secretly love it"

You did love it, and right now, distracting yourself is not an option. You watch with bated breath as the object of your affections walks into the Slytherin common rooms. There are plenty of bodies swaying in the dungeons illuminated by various Ravenclaws who have casted Lumos

You see Riddle across the room, head thrown back while he nursed a cup of Firewhiskey. When his head comes back, he sees you too, he raises his cup and he pushes himself off the wall to lessen the distance between you. Your legs certainly achieve a quicker gait as you push past the swaying bodies and soon enough you're bombarded by firewhiskey, with an undercurrent of sweat and leather.

The second you’re close, Riddle lowers his cup on the desk, already having his explanations ready for the impending combat. "If you think I'm gonna let you take my freedom away again, you’re fucking crazy. I'm barely buzzed and I'm getting drunk, or high by the end of this night and there's nothing you-" But your fist is already digging into the softness of his button up shirt and your lips are open as you force them onto his.

Right there, in the open.

Mattheo is naturally stunned, possibly discombobulated.

Had he really gotten higher than he thought?

Did that fucking Hufflepuff make him a stepped on joint?

Frankly, he couldn't care less, and as the shock of it all wore down, and he could feel you begin to slip away, Mattheo slithers his battered hand around your waist and pulls you impossibly close. He smirks into the kiss, as he brings his hand up, fingers gliding across your collarbone, while the other hand lingers around your waist.

"What happened to your hand?" It is a question that threatens to burst the bubble established between the two of you. Why would you ask him this? Why would you bring him back to the events of earlier today when you were so prettily malleable in his hands right now?

"Nothing,"

"Matt..." You say, clouding your words with innuendo, which has him looking up at you with furrowed brows.

"Nott," Is all he says before he buries himself in the crook of your neck. His proximity awakens something animalistic inside of you, it pushes you to the depths of your lascivious desires and has you melting right there on the dance floor. All around you, fellow Slytherins continue to sway to the beat, letting the thrum of the enchanted muggle music speak for them. You throw your head back, gasping at the overwhelming need pooling in your core as Riddle begins to send reckless kisses down your collarbone, all while you imagine beating another guy silly. You blame your cycle. You blame your body. You blame every single hormone responsible for allowing you to emit such a wanton moan so openly in the very centre of a crowd.

"Who do I have to kill in order to get this reaction out of you everyday?" Mattheo is panting, with his hazel eyes dilated (whether from pleasure or substance, you might never know). Who do I have to curse in order to get you to be this slutty for me every single day?" His breathing is shallow and audible, even through all the noise. Mattheo's mind is foggy and the party guests are reduced to a memory. The only image he's able to conjure up is his lips between your wet folds - his tongue eager to find the source of your need while you moaned above him and kneaded your own breasts in a slutty haze.

"I need you, Mattheo," it was fucking infuriating to admit but the wetness has completely soaked through your underwear and a fresh scar is present in the corner of Mattheo's eye. There's a slight red smudge under his nose, and his knuckles are red and angry at the best of your neck, cradling your head close to his.

"Say that again-"

"What? No, I will not fucking-"

Mattheo's grip on your neck immediately unhooks and he detangles your limbs but before he ventures any furthers you're pulling him down to you and with your lips to Mattheo's greedy ears you angrily mutter, "I fucking need you. I need you really badly,"

He stares in your desperate, dark eyes with wonder and awe before letting your wrist be enclosed by his iron grip. Soon, you're being dragged through a Slytherin party with a boy adjusting the front lf his pants and barking orders at the drunken strangers to move before they fucking died.

Just as you succeed in cutting through the crowd a voice stops both of you in your tracks.

"I'm going to fucking kill you, Riddle," the voice booms from over the thumping bass of whatever muggle music was enchanted over the dungeon. Mattheo's gaze cuts away from you, but before he turns completely away, a slow Cheshire cat grin curls at the ends of his lips.

"That threat has grown so unimaginably tedious after years of overuse, Theo but I can't do this right now-" His sentence has already been cut short by an audible blow to his lower jaw. Theo Nott blocked your path towards the darkened hallway, leading to your dorm room and you're left wholly unsatisfied as Mattheo is sent barreling backwards. He lets go of your hand, stopping to wipe the wetness at the corners of his lips and checking to see if it's blood. It is. And something scratches inside of you.

The Prefect inside you wants to intervene but an even darker part of you tells you not to.

Theo is livid, and his wide chest rises and falls as he descends on Mattheo,

"Why the fuck am I being told by Draco of all people, that I can't play Keeper because I'm stuck in the hospital wing-"

"Theo, I really don't have the time for this-" Mattheo begins, but Theo cuts him short,

"Are you trying to steal my fucking place, Riddle?"

Mattheo's voice is leveled as he raises his fingers and says, "Okay, first off, yeah, I am. Obviously I'm trying to take your place. You're a shit Keeper and secondly, I've got somewhere to be," Theo's barreling towards Mattheo once more.

A silly, borderline maniacal smirk explodes on Riddle's face before he makes the shotgun decision to charge and lands a punch at Theo's jaw, allowing for the taller boy to stagger backwards. Your shoulders jump, and you flinch at the sickening sound as you watch with a wide gaze as Mattheo nurses his hurt hand. Theo is a raging bull, but Draco appears from the crowd, with a firm grip on Theo's shoulder. A stern, quiet reprimand.

At the exact same moment, Mattheo's hand finds yours and he smirks as he stalks past Nott, wiping away at his chin as he leads you towards your dorm.

The quietness within is almost jarring compared to the noise out there and as soon as the door closes, Mattheo's lips descend on your neck, "I know, I know," He sighs heavily, as he brings his hand up to your shoulder, "I’m sorry. I just hope I haven't ruined the vibe-"

"I want your fingers inside me, Riddle." He stills at your quiet command, and you leave him standing by the door as you pad over to your bed. "I don't know why, but I just need you, okay? And my own fingers aren't quite doing the trick and I keep thinking about how fucking crazy you are and-", You sigh as you sit at the foot of the bed. Lifting the skirt of your dress, Mattheo watches in the dimness of your room as you venture your fingers under your dress and hook them into your panties. He walks towards you, propelling the wings of the butterflies in your stomach.

All he says is, "Which hand?" He doesn't know why he asks, but he does and his voice is barely above a whisper as he hopes you pick the right answer. His cock twitches in his underwear at the thought of seeing his blood on your skin.

Mattheo stops in between your legs, causing the fabric of the dress to rise while a breeze drifts over your soaked pussy. You bend forward and reach for his bloodied hand.

"I want your fingers inside me,"

Mattheo's resolve immediately snaps and his hands grip tightly at your hips, pushing you backwards and exposing your wet core to him.

"You're fucking dripping through the sheets like a slut- you're a fucking slut,"

Excitement. It rushes through you like a wave of magma at the neediness in his own voice.

Matheo rushes to rid both of you of the excess fabric, casting Evansco, until all he can see is your warm, glistening skin.

"Oh my fuck-" Mattheo's voice cracks as he stares down at your aching cunt, his fingers almost instinctively rubbing over the wetness.

"Touch your breasts," He commands, "I wanna see you do it,"

Your eyes pierce into his dark ones as you bring a shaky hand up towards your puckered nipples. The smallest brush elicits a violent streak of pleasure which would have occupied your entire mind were it not for Mattheo's long fingers already stabbing into your dripping cunt.

"Fuck, you're so wet," He whines, unconsciously burying his hips into the sheets at the foot of your bed as he watches. He is utterly transfixed by his middle and ring finger disappearing into your cunt. Every time they sink deeper your mind gets filled with images of Riddle's unrest and violence. You're utterly wrecked with the thought of his bloodied fingers being inside you, touching the most private parts of you.

"Pick up the pace, Riddle,"

"Shut the fuck up," He mumbles as he takes his time in exploring the very depths of you. Your voice soars to higher octaves as you feel your first orgasm cresting quite literally against your will. How utterly embarrassing, to cum so quickly.

"You're fucking squeezing my fingers- fuck-" You're desperately humping at his hand, hoping your hips might achieve the feat of sinking his fingers further into you. "You're humping my hand so fucking well." His cock aches as he continues to grind it into the sheets, in tandem with your swollen cunt taking his fingers.

"Are you seriously going to cum so soon? Are you that desperate to get fucked-" Your cunt spasms around his fingers and you're moaning as you squeeze your sensitive breasts, already soaring to the heights of your orgasm. Your screams rival the music outside but Riddle never tells you to keep quiet, instead he watches with hungry eyes as your body melts into its orgasm.

"Look at what the fuck you've done," Mattheo's words have you slowly coming back to earth, but not quite... his voice is heavy with lust as you raise yourself by your elbows. Your stomach sinks as you watch Mattheo, he's frozen in front of you, with his head lowered and his gaze on his palm.

"I-I'm sorry-" Your sheets were soaked with your release, leaving a visible damp spot. You squirted everywhere.

"You're gonna do that on my cock," before you can comprehend your words Mattheo already has his cock positioned at your wet folds.

"I'm going to fucking cum inside you and you're going to take it, yeah?" The serious shadow in his darkened eyes hold no room for negotiation, you'd never seen Mattheo quite this serious because seriousness just didn't run in his bloodstream. However, he's utterly ruined by your neediness, needing to take advantage of your compliance before it slipped through his fingers.

"Oh my fuck- Mattheo!"He pulls your hips towards the edge of the bed and his cock forces itself through your folds, until Mattheo is quite literally fucking you with reckless abandon.

"Matt- I can't-'' You're still riding on the sensitivity of your previous high and you think Mattheo could be a little mindful of this but his goal, it seems, is to leave you overstimulated.

"You can," he mumbles, with his eyes squeezing shut before he quickly opens them, wanting to see every emotion flowing over your face.

"You're a slut but you're not a useless slut, are you?" You tits bounce with every movement of Mattheo's hips, and you're shaking your head despite the fog. Your cunt is squeezing the life out of his cock and you feel him pushing at a very sensitive part of you.

Your head is buried in the pillows as your back arches and you swallow him deeper.

Mattheo bends forward, his hips quickening into a needy, restless rut as his teeth sink into the skin around your nipples.

"FUCK-" The pain bleeds into pleasure which streams into your next orgasm. Riddle moans around your skin, suckling at your nipple while he fucked you like he is as touch starved as you are.

"I'm cumming, Matt-" The fact that you're still able to form words is a complete and utter mystery because, not a second later, you're exploding around his cock. A gushing, clear liquid rushes through you while your lips chant his name like a prayer.

"I'm going to fucking breed you, baby- oh fuck, you're so pretty squirting around my cock-" the cracks in his voice; the desperation laced on every word has him cumming inside you, pushing his hips with every spurt of warmth.

You're still shuddering when Mattheo slumps over you. You're both huffing and puffing and basking in each other's release with his cock still very much inside you. "You're getting a contraception potion from Madame Pomfrey tomorrow," you can do nothing except nod as your satisfaction settles.

"I'll come with you," He says.

[mattyriddlesbitch]

Now here me out… Mattheo Riddle x fem!reader x Theodore Nott jealous threesome, where they try to hog all the attention of the reader while visiting the Eiffel Tower (look it up)

Anonymous Flowers

Mattheo Riddle x F!Reader x Theodore Nott!

Warnings: threesome, cussing, oral(male and female receiving), fingering

18+ Minors DNI!

Oh, honey, this Eiffel Tower is my absolute favorite. Doesn't it look great this time of year?

It wasn't a secret that both Mattheo and Theodore liked you. However, you didn't want to choose between them and they respected that. Mostly. They'd still shamelessly flirt with you. And try to win your affections with gifts and gestures. But they always reassured you that you didn't need to choose or make things awkward.

Things were going smoothly between all of you, no mean comments to each other, no signs of jealousy minus the occasional glare when the other touched you. 

Until you got anonymous flowers sent to your dorm and texted both of them about it to see if either of them sent it. After about 5 minutes, they both showed up at your dorm. Both knocking loudly.

You opened the door with an annoyed look at how loud they were being. “What?” You asked them loudly. They both pushed past you and into your dorm, looking at the flowers. “No, come in. Make yourselves at home.” You said sarcastically as you closed the door.

You could hear them arguing as you moved to sit back on your bed.

“I didn't send these.” Mattheo said.

“Stop fucking lying.” Theodore said back to him.

“I'm not lying! Why the fuck wouldn't I want her to know I sent them?” Mattheo was getting angry.

“I don't know! I don't know your fucking logic!” Theodore was getting just as angry.

“Guys!” You said loudly to get their attention and they both turned their heads to you. “Neither of you would send something anonymously like that, we figured that out so far, geniuses. That means someone else sent it.”

“Who in the hell would send flowers to my girl?” Mattheo said as he picked up the flowers and inspected them.

“Your girl? You know damn well she's not just yours.” Theo said, taking the flowers from him and inspecting them himself.

“Can you guys stop arguing? I'm not either of yours’ girl.” You say, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Oh, you hear that, Theo?” Mattheo said as he looked over at you.

“She doesn't realize she's ours.” Theodore said as he looked at you too.

“Maybe it's time to show her who she belongs to.”

“I think she could use the reminder since she's getting flowers from some other dickhead.” Theodore said as he put the flowers down and they both walked over to where you were on the bed.

“What?” You asked as you kept looking between both of them.

“You're letting other guys give you attention, darling.” Mattheo said as he grabbed your chin and leaned in close to you.

“That's our job, principessa.” Theodore added, running a hand through your hair.

“It seems you need to learn that, though.” Mattheo trailed his hand to your cheek.

“Are you giving other guys attention? Trying to give other guys what's ours?” Theodore asked, moving his hand to the side of your neck.

Their touches were almost dizzying. “No.”

Theodore tsked. “I think she's lying.”

“It's fine. She won't be for long.” Mattheo gripped the back of your hair tightly and pulled your head back, kissing you suddenly. You gripped at his shirt in surprise.

“You can't just do that, Matt.” Theodore said, pushing Mattheo back from you.

“Oh, but she tastes so good.” Mattheo smiled wickedly at the other boy.

Theodore was close to saying something when you reached up and pulled him down by his shirt to kiss you. He groaned at your bold move as Mattheo moved to sit behind you on the bed, kissing at your neck. As much as both boys hated sharing you, they hated everyone else more than each other. They both worked together in getting you naked, Mattheo working on your blouse and Theodore made quick work of your skirt and panties.

He kneeled between your legs in front of the bed and started kissing and nipping at your inner thighs. Mattheo managed to get your blouse off and quickly got your bra off too, using his hands to tease your nipples. The boys each had a pretty good view of what the other was doing and it only seemed to spur them on more.

Theodore finally licked at your sweet cunt, groaning as you moaned above him, his eyes fighting to watch your face and Mattheo's hands on your boobs.

Mattheo was kissing and biting at your neck as he pinched and pulled at your nipples. He, too, was flicking his eyes between your breasts and Theo lapping at your pussy.

You were so busy feeling everything, you didn't really notice the tension between the two men at the moment. You were moaning and whimpering, one hand in Theodore's hair and the other on one of Mattheo's arms.

“Does that feel good, princess?” Mattheo asked behind you. “Am I making you feel good?”

“I'm making her feel better. And you taste fucking amazing, cara mia.” Theodore said, pushing two fingers inside you.

“Oh, god, you both are so good.” You moan, leaning your head back onto Mattheo's shoulder.

Mattheo groaned and you felt it against your back. “Let me fucking taste her.”

“Not until I got her cumming on my face.” Theodore said with a smug smirk.

“You think I'm letting you make her cum first?” Mattheo said and moved to pull you further onto the bed, completely away from Theodore. He laid you back on the pillows as he settled between your legs, attaching his mouth to your clit.

Theodore was seething, but climbed up next to you guys. He pushed Mattheo over slightly so he could slide his fingers back into you.

Your eyes rolled back as you now had Mattheo's mouth abusing your poor clit and Theodore's long fingers pumping in and out of you. “Holy fuck, shit.” You moaned, one hand flying to Mattheo's hair and the other to the sheets beside you, which Theodore saw and held your hand. He moved to kiss you for a moment before kissing and biting at your chest, his fingers never faulting. Mattheo groaned and reached a hand up to play with one of your nipples as he looked up at you between your thighs. You let out an involuntary moan at the sight and feel, already overwhelmed from his mouth and Theodore's fingers.

It was all too much and they had you cumming with a loud cry, trembling as your legs were trying to close on Mattheo's head. Mattheo relented once he noticed you relaxed a little and leaned up to kiss you again. Theodore removed his fingers too and rubbed your thighs soothingly. 

“You did so good for me, cara mia.” Theodore said.

Mattheo pulled back and glared at Theodore. “For you?” He scoffed "No, princess, you did perfect for me.” Mattheo said as he looked back at you.

“Let me feel your pussy wrapped around me.” Theodore said and brought his free hand to your cheek.

“That's not fair.” Mattheo snapped at Theo.

You touched his arm and said, “I have an idea.” They both looked at you now, ready to hear it. “One on each side. One of you gets my mouth, one gets my pussy. Then maybe switch if you want.” You say, cheeks burning at the suggestion.

The boys looked at each other for a moment.

“I want her pussy.” Theodore said.

“I'll get that pretty little mouth then.” Mattheo said as he looked at you with a smile. He helped you up onto all fours suddenly.

The boys wasted no time stripping, eager to get their hands back on you.

Theodore came up behind you, pressing soft kisses to your back before lining up at your entrance. As pushed into you and you both moaned. “ God, you feel heavenly, principessa.”

Mattheo was in front of you within seconds of that. He brushed your cheek softly for a second. “Open up, baby.” He said, interrupting the soft moment with his cock tapping your lips. You opened your mouth and he pushed in, timing his thrusts with Theodore.

“You talk like a dick.” Theodore said from behind you.

“Did that bother you, love?” Mattheo asked as he looked down at you. You moaned around his cock and he smiled, letting out a soft moan himself. “She said it’s fine.”

“She’s probably too fucked out on my dick to even pay attention to you.” Theodore said. “Isn’t that right, amore mio?” He asked you, giving you a light spank and you moaned loudly in reply around Mattheo’s dick.

“You keep moaning like that and I’m gonna cum down your throat, princess.” Mattheo said to you.

“So quick?” Theodore teased.

You really weren’t paying much attention to the conversation with the way Theodore was thrusting inside you and Mattheo was hitting the back of your throat.

“You would too if you felt her mouth.” Mattheo said, groaning when you gagged around him.

“My cock’s a bit busy stretching out her pussy right now.” Theodore said.

Your orgasm was building this whole time and the way Theodore suddenly angled his hips had his dick hitting that sweet spot in you, making you cum within seconds, trembling and moaning around Mattheo’s cock.

“That’s fucking it, principessa. Make a mess of my cock.” Theodore said as he helped ride out your high.

“Christ.” Mattheo muttered as he slowed his thrust to not overwhelm you.

“I got what I wanted, let me feel her mouth.” Theodore said, pulling out of you and helping you get your mouth off of Mattheo before flipping you over onto your back, moving you so your head was at the edge of the bed.

“You can’t fucking take her like that.” Mattheo said, but made no complaints about the new position.

“Please.” You whined from the loss of contact from either of them.

“I got you, amore mio.” Theodore said as he pushed into your mouth, the angle letting him hit a little deeper in your throat as you gagged and teared up.

“Don’t worry, princess.” Mattheo reassured as he settled between your legs and pushed in your puffy, sensitive cunt.

You were already so sensitive from your last orgasm and the boys were so close already as well from the last position. Both boys toyed with your breasts, praising you for taking their cocks so well. You came first, it only took seconds once Mattheo started playing with your clit.

“Fuck, angel. You feel fucking perfect.” Mattheo said with some strain right before he came inside you.

Theodore didn’t last much longer as you moaned and cried around his dick. “You’re so good for me, cara mia. So fucking good.” He said as he came down your throat.

The boys pulled out of you and both argued with each other as they fussed over cleaning you up.

Whatever problems this may cause was definitely not a concern in your head at the moment as you watched your two boys cleaning you up together.

[spectorgram]

the letter

theodore nott x f! reader summary: you get a letter from a secret admirer who wants to confess. your best friend is none too pleased. notes: jealous! theodore nott >>> word count: 1.4k

You would think for a magical school, Hogwarts would have better heating or some heating spell, but the Slytherin dorms are frigid as usual as winter creeps up. You fasten your robe clasps and draw it tighter around you, simultaneously trying to tug your skirt down in a futile way to heat yourself up more. Your knee-high socks only do so much and you pretty much give up on the endeavor as you climb up the stairs and head for the Great Hall. 

You’re immediately greeted by the cozy warmth of the hall, spotting your friends, all swathed in green and silver robes and knits. Theo spots you first, sliding over and nearly knocking Blaise off the bench. “Blood hell, mate,” Blaise grumbles as you approach, kicking Theo’s leg lightly. 

You slip into the space created for you, right in between Theo and Enzo. You stifle a yawn and ask, “Can someone pass the eggs and bacon?”

As Enzo reaches for both platters, Theo’s eyes zero in on your legs. “How are you not cold?”

You frown. “I am,” you reply, piling your breakfast onto your plate, “but Pansy’s demon cat apparently thought my winter tights were toys and decided to scratch them all up.”

Pansy sighs, “I’ve ordered you new ones, calm down.” 

Theo drapes his robe over your legs and you smile gratefully at him. He smiles back and your heart flips. You don’t think you’ll ever get over how beautiful he is — all dark caramel curls and long lashes that frame those devastatingly blue eyes. He’s been your best friend since you started Hogwarts and you knew you loved him at first sight. The longer you’ve known him, the more you’ve fallen for him. 

It’s a tale as old as the world itself: you’re hopelessly in love with your best friend but you value your friendship far too much to do anything to jeopardize it.

“Mail’s here,” you hear someone say down the table. You look up to the ceiling, which has been enchanted to look like a sky that’s about to break open and drop snowflakes from its clouds. Owls soar in through the openings at the top of the walls, diving down towards their intended recipients. 

“Maybe your new tights are here,” Enzo says. 

Pansy adds, “I hope so. Then you’ll stop complaining about it.”

You snort, reaching up to grab a letter dropped by your family owl. You feed her a piece of scrambled egg as she takes off back towards the owlery. You tuck your parents’ letter into the inner pocket of your robe just as another owl swoops overhead, dropping a pale blue envelope on your lap. 

“Who’s that from?” asks Pansy. 

You shrug, using your butter knife to open it up. As you do, Draco grumbles at Mattheo: “For the love of Salazar, stop hogging the pastry basket.”

You skim over the letter addressed to you. You tilt your head in confusion and Blaise asks, “What’s it say?”

Enzo peeks over your shoulder and his face breaks into a smirk. “‘Meet me at the Astronomy Tower at midnight tonight. Signed, Your Secret Admirer.’” he reads.

“What?” Theo suddenly snatches the letter from your hand. You watch in confusion as his eyes dart back and forth. His shoulders tense and his mouth purses into a thin, hard line. 

“You doing okay there, Nott?” Matthew asks, shooting a simpering smile at his friend. Theo sends a glare back but doesn’t say anything, the letter’s paper crinkling under his grip. 

Pansy asks, “Are you going to go?”

You hesitate, surreptitiously glancing at Theo, startled to find that he’s gazing at you with an intensity you’ve never experienced. You pluck the letter from him and fold it neatly. “I think so,” you say. “I’m interested to see who it is.”

“Be sure to bring your wand,” Draco says. “Just in case.”

“Obviously,” you deadpan. The conversation shifts into whether anyone was prepared for midterms coming up. 

You fiddle with the letter in your lap. Theo’s silent for the whole conversation. 

You chew on your bottom lip as you reread the same sentence in your textbook for what feels like the hundredth time. The letter has stuck in your head the whole day. It crosses your mind that it could be a prank or a set-up — it’s not a secret that Slytherin isn’t the most popular House among your classmates — but you know you can handle yourself. You’re more worried about how Theo was acting at breakfast. He didn’t say a word the rest of the meal, not even when Enzo and Mattheo tried looping him into the conversation. He just sat there, sullen and gloomy, and his mood seemed to worsen more when you handed him his robe back and said you had to get to class.

You sigh heavily, trying to play out every possible scenario that could happen between you and the letter writer. You check the clock in the library: 11:45; you need to head over to the Astronomy Tower. 

You groan, gathering your things, sliding them into your bag, and making your way back to the Slytherin common room to drop off your things in your dorm. “Cacophony,” you supply to the portrait, which swings open to let you in.

The common room is blissfully silent when you enter, a welcome contrast to the mess of thoughts in your head. You’re about to head down the hall to your dorm when you collide against someone. You huff an apology but when you feel their hand on your shoulder, you look up to see Theo. He looks intense, eyes wide and glinting with sharp determination and his mouth still set in that frown from earlier. “Sorry, Theo,” you say. “Didn’t see you there. Where are you going at this hour?”

“I was going to find you,” he replies. 

“Oh,” you say. “Well, here I am. Sorry, I’ve got to drop this stuff off and then—”

“Head to the Astronomy Tower,” he finishes for you, “to meet your ‘secret admirer.’” 

You don’t like the way he sneers at the last part of his sentence or the way he uses air quotations. You’re about to respond when he says, “Don’t go.”

“What?”

“Don’t go,” he repeats.

“Why not?”

He pauses before saying, “What if it’s someone just having a laugh?”

You bristle, hurt, and you feel your temper flare. “Is it so damn hard to believe that someone might actually have a crush on me?”

Theo laughs, razor-sharp and incredulous, as if he can’t believe that you’re saying something so outrageous, “No, it’s not.”

“Then why shouldn’t I go?”

“Because I don’t want you to!”

“For Salazar’s sake, Theo, you can’t tell me what to do!”

“I know that!”

“Then are you trying to tell me not to go?”

“Because I bloody like you!”

Your heart stutters to a stop. You can only hear the sounds of both of your labored breathing and you suddenly can’t meet his eyes, trying your best to wrap your head around the fact that your feelings are reciprocated. “How long?’ you ask softly, holding your breath.

“Since first year.”

You blink. “Really?”

He rakes a hand through his hair and sighs heavily, “Mattheo’s right; you’re so oblivious.” There’s another beat of silence and he asks, a little shyly, “How do you feel?”

You can’t stop the smile that spreads across your face. “I like you too, Theo. I’ve liked you since first year as well.”

He echoes your “Really?” and it makes you giggle, “I guess we’re both oblivious.”

He joins your laughter and you let your forehead rest on his chest as your shoulders shake. When it dies down, Theo shifts you off him and lifts your chin with his forefinger, any semblance of coyness gone. You gaze into his ocean blue eyes. Salazar, you could drown in them. He offers a charming smile and he leans close, just a few centimeters away, and says, “Can I kiss you?”

Your eyelashes flutter and your voice comes out barely louder than a whisper, “I’d be disappointed if you didn’t.”

Your lips meet, fervent and desperate, years of yearning releasing like water through a broken dam. Theo hooks his arms around your waist, pulling you as close as possible. You wind your arms around his neck, fingers toying with the hair at his nape. He walks you backward, slipping his tongue into mouth as he crushes you up against the wall. He deepens the kiss and your knees go weak. 

Theo moves your bag off your shoulder and drops it on the floor. The letter that rested at the top of the pile of possessions falls out, laying forgotten on the ground.