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I love reading fanfics imagining myself as a baddie when I know for a fact I would disgust the fucker in real life.
Why the Customization Is the Real Selling Point
Plenty of apps let you chat with a bot. Very few let you author the person you're chatting with. On SweetDream you decide her appearance, her personality, her quirks, her voice, and the backstory that makes her who she is. That authorship is why she ends up feeling like yours.
And because the platform is genuinely high quality, your choices actually stick. The chat stays in character, the photos match the look you designed, and the voice you picked is the voice she calls you with. If you want an AI girlfriend who came from your imagination, sweetdream.ai is built for exactly that.
Just thinking about Down Bad Mattheo Riddle. ╰┈➤<readers gender not specified>
Down Bad Mattheo Riddle! Whose sketchbooks are absolutely filled to the brim with sketches of you over and over, just trying to perfect your face and get it to at least half of the beauty of the real thing.
Down Bad Mattheo Riddle! Who can’t help but stare at the back of your head in class until he gets accused of intimidation from the teachers.
Down Bad Mattheo Riddle! Who insists on carrying your bag and books in between classes. It doesn’t matter if you’re in different classes entirely he can be late, the teachers are used to it by now.
Down Bad Mattheo Riddle! Who grins on the inside when you doodle on his pages or his arm. He purposely keeps his leaves rolled up to his elbows in hopes you want to doodle. I mean that and the hope you thirst over his popping veins but I digress.
Down Bad Mattheo Riddle! Who hugs a pillow with one of your shirts as a pillow case just to ease his mind when going to sleep. He sometimes uses one of your cologne/ perfume bottles on it just to help.
Down Bad Mattheo Riddle! Who can’t help but crack his knuckles and glare when he catches other guys looking at you, especially the griffindor assholes.
Down Bad Mattheo Riddle! Who won’t hesitate to get on his knee to tie your shoe. Doesn’t matter where you are or what he’s holding, he has no hesitation whatsoever.
Down Bad Mattheo Riddle! Who asks you to read to him. Reading was never one of his strong suits but he still loves the stories and hearing your beautiful voice illustrate the scenes for him is truly magical.
Down Bad Mattheo Riddle! Who writes poems for you, or well attempts to. He’d never tell you he does, he’d rather jump into the black lake and drown then admit he does shitty poetry. especially if its dedicated to you
Down Bad Mattheo Riddle! Who can't help but talk about you. You're always on his mind and he loves to share what he's thinking about. So obviously you come up for at least a sentence in every conversation he has. Whether it be a mention you'd like something or a place he plans to take you next you always come up.
@kodaswrld for the divider!!
A.n.gang should I start a tag list for this fandoms fics?
Soft launch
Slytherin boys texts genre: crack warning: none note: i would eat these up, ngl Navigation Masterlist
Taglist
@klimovatereza-blog , @lafrone ,@enfppuff , @rafegfs , @frogtape , @lovelyygirl8 , @catiwinky, @leeleecats , @ghostgardn , @reverse-soe , @ultramarinetovelvet @jazz-berry , @justatadbonkers , @partnerincrime0 , @schaebickel , @deluluassapocalypse , @adreamingpendulum, @imobsessedwitholiviarodrigo, @happydragonfrog , @harvey-malfoy , @helendeath , @caffeine-addict-slug , @mrvlfanman , @pink-heartz , @feistyfox47 , @nickspotatoesalad , @elltheawkward , @wnbweasley, @shespeaksinsongs , @africancracker , @broadwaybaby123, @stardustsymphony , @romantasyreader28, @chelawrites , @catching-fire-in-the-wind , @hecate-frenchfries
‘HEARTLESS’ — MATTHEO RIDDLE
word count. 1.1k
pairing. mattheo riddle x fem! reader
♫ — 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐒 ❝ somewhere far along this road he lost his soul, to a woman so heartless. how could you be so heartless? ❞
tom thinks his girlfriend is dead asleep beside him. hilarious, 'cause he has no idea she's only seconds away from getting caught with his younger brother.
Sex with your boyfriend is always good. You love the way he presses into you, every movement sending butterflies fluttering through your tummy. Every thrust pulls a moan from your lips, every pullout leaving you whining for more. Tom loves making you feel this way beneath him, and you love every second of it.
He would've been a perfect man if there just wasn't this one little thing he couldn't quite satisfy.
Mattheo feels like a prideful little idiot when you step outside. He's floating in the manor's pool, the earlier sound of your sweet moans mixing with Tom's, still stuck in his dirty mind. The second you stepped closer, Mattheo had immediately caught his brother's scent on you. He could tell, just by the way you smelled, exactly how Tom had you. ‘nd when his eyes roamed over your neck and chest, he knew exactly how Tom claimed you. He almost wants to ask who's better-- though he already knows the answer. Cockiness isn't a good look, is it?
With your legs wrapped around his waist, his cock sliding in and out of you, he mirrored the same movements you had just shared with Tom, but with Mattheo, it feels different. Every stroke, every pleasure he gave your body, was a euphoric kind of sensation.
So fuckin’ good. Your back is pressed against the edge of the pool, legs instinctively tightening around his waist as your pussy continues to suck him in with every sweet, delicious snap of his hips. You are always so loud with him. “Augh! Ah!… ahmm” he couldn’t help but chuckle at how every drag of his dick seemed to make you melt. “Yeah? Right there? That sweet spot?” he teased, enjoying the way your words tumbled out with each pump, your body practically trembling around him.
You writhe, gasping & moaning as Mattheo pinches your breast through the soaked white shirt-- not even yours, but Tom's. His thumb circles over your other stiff bud, teasing it until it hardens beneath his touch. "Fuck. Fuck! You're so hot."
Your hands, wrapped around his shoulders, tangle into his hair as you pull him closer, your lips hovering just over his in a desperate attempt to kiss him. But before your mouths can meet, he pulls back, a mean smirk stretching his pink lips. With a strength that sent shivers down your wet spine, he spun you around. The water swirled around your legs as he guided you toward the edge of the pool, your fingers clutching the rough cement for support.
Your back pressed firmly against his chest, feeling every curve, every inch of him pressing into you. His hands didn’t stay still, roaming over your sides, sliding up and down. He pressed his lips to the back of your neck, the ticklish friction making you let out a soft giggle. You craned your neck to the side, catching the blown pupils of his dark eyes as they dipped lower, following the line of his cock, hovering at your entrance.
The moment he starts to ease the tip in, your back arches perfectly, every muscle in your body tightening around him. You reach behind you, your fingers tangling in his messy hair as you pull him into a deep, desperate kiss from that angle.
His tongue slips past your parted lips, tasting you as he kisses you deeper. He swallows every breathless sound that escapes you, never once pulling away. To heighten the pleasure, you began to ride him back, grinding and fucking into him with every shuddering thrust. His needy grunts spurred you on, making it impossible to slow down. He felt so good, every inch of him pressed perfectly against you.
You want to feel like this forever. Mattheo slides a hand down to your knee, lifting your leg and guiding it up until you're hugging it tightly against your chest, never breaking his rhythm. Oh, God. Here you are, wrapped around your boyfriend's younger brother, losing yourself to him only minutes after you'd lost yourself to Tom. The thought alone makes your head spin, your breath comes out quicker, and every instinct screams not to stop.
“My Love?”
Tom’s voice was heard from the kitchen, drifting across the pool. He had called out worriedly, unaware that if he slid open the glass door just a few steps away, he’d be met with the sight of his brother’s cock buried deep inside his girlfriend.
You and Mattheo tore yourselves apart instantly, the loss of him leaving you clenching around nothing as you quickly swam a few feet away. The water rippled violently from the frantic movement, but you managed to settle far away just as the sliding glass door slid open.
Tom stepped outside, his eyelids barely holding themselves open in his sleepy state. He looked so drowsy and completely unaware that only seconds earlier Mattheo had been buried inside you from behind. Making you let out noises you never thought were possible. “What’re you two doing?” Tom mumbled, rubbing lazily at his eyes. After fuckin’ you into his bed earlier, he’d passed out almost instantly, too tired to notice much now. “It’s around two in the morning--” If he’d been paying attention, he would’ve seen the crooked shirt on your body, your lips still swollen from Mattheo’s kisses, and the tremble in your arms from being fucked so good against the pool’s edge minutes ago.
“Relax, big bro,” Mattheo said, climbing out of the pool quickly. He adjusted his boxers, water dripping down his chest as if nothing had happened. “We were just swimming. It’s been hot as fuck lately, or nah?”
Tom nods, still too sleepy to really give a shit, agreeing that the summer heat has been pretty ass. His guard is down, too tired to notice the way Mattheo's smirk slowly grows as his eyes drift back to you, still floating in the pool, your chest rising and falling as you try to steady your breathing.
“Night, dick,” Mattheo said finally, dripping water across the deck as he reentered the manor.
Cupcake Kisses
summary: your new lip gloss has sent mattheo into a frenzy. characters: bf! mattheo. reader. mentions of slytherin boys. warnings: none just fluff :) word count: 831
It had been an ordinary Saturday morning-soft sunlight filtering through the enchanted windows of Hogwarts, warm enough to melt the frost from the grass, but still kissed with winter chill. You’d bundled up in your favorite coat and scarf, Mattheo trailing behind you with his usual confident swagger as the two of you wandered through Hogsmeade.
the holy trinity.
side note: how can i tag the entire slytherin boys fandom?
he's seen worse
i just finished watching the new season of monsters on netflix and i was like wow do i wish mattheo was with me to hold me tight rn sigh
summary: watching serial killer shows with mattheo warnings: none word count: .8k song rec: moonlight - ariana grande
“so you like… enjoy this crap?” mattheo asks, stuffing a handful of popcorn into his mouth before you can answer.
“yeah, it’s interesting. muggles call them serial killers, say the times they lived through were the darkest in history, and yet, they make dozens of movies about them. and on top of that, mattheo, they cast super attractive men to play these psychos.” you shrug, fishing around for a red m&m.
“attractive,” he mutters under his breath, more to himself than to you. something hot and sour stirs in his chest, but he pushes it down, pretending it’s nothing.
you’re both huddled under a blanket in an abandoned classroom. the floor is littered with snacks, the air smells faintly of dust and chocolate, and the two of you are sitting close, but not close enough. this has become a weekly ritual ever since you started tutoring him in muggle studies.
he used to swear off anything to do with muggles. music, movies, art... all of it. but then there was you. and somehow, you made even the strangest, most mundane things feel bearable. interesting, even. he’d never say that out loud, though. instead, he just watches you. the way your face lights up when something twisted happens on screen. how your body jumps when you get scared. he’s come to enjoy watching you more than whatever’s playing.
being who he is - the dark lord’s son - mattheo’s seen things far worse than these documentaries. real things. things that never cut to credits or fade out to black. the images flickering across the screen are child’s play compared to what’s burned into his memory. still, somehow, sitting here with you feels like a kind of peace he’s never known.
“anddd i’m no longer hungry,” you mutter, wrinkling your nose as ed gein appears wearing what looks like - a mask? a head? mattheo isn’t really paying attention anymore.
he’s watching you instead. you, biting your lip, eyes wide but bright. he thinks it’s almost funny; that you of all people are into this kind of thing. if you knew half of what he’s seen, you’d probably never sleep again.
“does this make you, like, uncomfortable?” you ask softly. “i just realized i never actually asked if you wanted to watch this stuff.”
the nervous way you glance at your hands almost makes him smile.
“nah,” he says, trying to sound casual. “it doesn’t bother me. or scare me, for that matter. honestly, (y/n)… it’s nothing i haven’t seen before.”
the words slip out too easily, too honest. embarrassment hits him right after. he clears his throat and shifts, pretending not to notice the flicker of uncertainty in your eyes.
“good,” you finally say, tugging the blanket higher around your shoulders.
he sinks lower beside you, the glow of the screen casting both your faces in cold light. after a few episodes, you start inching closer. maybe because it’s cold, or maybe because you’re nervous, he can’t tell. but he feels every movement like static crawling under his skin.
he wants to reach for you. to pull you in. to stop pretending he doesn’t care. but wanting things too much has never ended well for him. so instead, he sits there, fists clenched in the blanket, until your arm brushes his.
“fucking freezing in here,” he mutters, mostly to cover the silence.
“here,” you whisper, draping your blanket over his and shifting down so your head rests on his shoulder.
his whole body goes still. if you could hear his heartbeat, you’d probably laugh at how fast it’s going. then he lets himself breathe, lets his head fall against yours.
your warmth seeps into him. and for once, he doesn’t want to ruin it with words.
but he can’t help himself.
after a long pause, he murmurs, “so… you only watch these shows for the attractive psychos, yeah?”
you smile without looking at him. “maybe.”
“right,” he says quietly, a smirk tugging at his mouth. “guess i’m in good company then.”
before you can roll your eyes or say something back, he leans in; slow, hesitant, until his lips brush yours. it’s quick, barely there, but it leaves him dizzy all the same.
he lingers close, his breath warm against your lips. “funny… i’ve seen monsters my whole life, and you’re the only thing that ever scared me.”
his lips press against yours, and you don’t stop him, you couldn’t, not when this was always where you were headed since the day he asked for your help.
