In which the slytherin boys (Mattheo, Lorenzo, Theodore, Draco and Blaise_ and their famous girls (Y/N, Daphne, Astoria and Pansy) aren't just the deadliest friend group...but also a friend group that fucks each other on the down low.
(Please note it begins as suggestive mentions of smut and more group dynamic, but it WILL be going into smut soon and I will write beside it if it includes actual full-fledged written smut. Reader will have more of a liking to theodore (like fully confesses love type liking)
PART1- INITATION NIGHT - Where Y/N sits with the friend group at a party and begins her initiation with Theodore (who knew it would be so easy?) (SUGGESTIVE)
PART2- WORDS BEHIND WALS- It's been two months since Y/N joined the group, let's see just how she's doing...and just how easy miscommunication is when she thinks the boys are talking about her behind her back! (HURT/COMFORT)
PART3- NO NUT NOVEMBER- The boys partake in no nut November, the girls are determined to break them. (SMUT- THEODORE)
PART4 - SUPER RICH KIDS - In which Y/N finds it hard to keep up with the rich hobbies of her group. (SUBTLE HURT/COMFORT)
PART5- SWEET AND SOUR - When the sweetest boy of the group gets stressed and doesn’t want to bother, you make sure to relieve him (SMUT- LORENZO)
PART5- THE YULE BALL AND THEODORE NOTT'S BROKEN HEART- Every year for the Yule Ball, the girls go with the boys. Even before they turned into what they are now, as good friends they’d all go. Now that you’re here, you think Theodore might ask you, but the girls tell you he’s never asked anyone. So, you end up going with Cormac, but this won't end like you expect it to, nor does anyone else.
PART6 (CONTINUATION TO PART 5)- NEVER FUCK WITH US OR OUR GIRLS - When you get back together with Cormac, and Adrian Pucey and Astoria fall in love, the group deals with their betrayal, and Theodore and Draco realize they have lost their girls. However, a certain trio thinks something is off...
PART 7- SUPER SOAKER- When Lorenzo makes you squirt for the first time, the other guys decide to step up their game. (SMUT- ENZO AND MATTHEO)
PART 8- BEST OF BOTH WORLDS- Once again, you and Lorenzo are studying for your exams, just your in a state of not giving a shit and cuddling with Theodore while Lorenzo suffers in his dorm. That's when Theo decides you'll BOTH relieve Lorenzo... (SMUT- THEO AND ENZO)
PART9- JEALOUSY, JEALOUSY- You get asked out to a party by none other than Draco's enemy, Harry Potter, and after discussion, you decide to secretly go, but you weren't as secretive as you thought you were. (SMUT- DRACO)
PART 10- WHO WOULD THINK OF SNAPE?!- When the group first started, the boys told you the safe word was Snape- because if your mind EVER went to Snape during sex that's clearly saying how bad it was. You've gone almost a year strong without using the safe word, but everyone reaches their limit.
PART 11- BIRTHDAYS SUCK ANYWAY- The group seemingly forgets your birthday
PART 12- SHARING IS CARING- Mattheo and Theodore are best friends, they share everything, and often, that means you and Daphne. (SMUT)
PART 13- PURITY (TABOO)- When the boys find out your a muggleborn, you begin to think it's over- what would they want to do with a dirty mudblood like you? But to them, the only difference is you just don't have enough pureblood cum in you, and lucky for you, your boys are all purebloods.
PART 14- OWNED- The boys tease Enzo for always being so desperate for you, so Y/N shows them that she could realistically ruin any of them by ruining the dominant of the group- Mattheo.
PART 15- MOVIE NIGHT! - You all have a movie night in the common room, but with Blaise and Theodore at either side of you, this won't be a normal night under the blankets.
PART 16- GAME NIGHT- It's the end of the week, all the stress from tests and homework and stupid essays leaving your bodies as you all spend time in the common room. Then Blaise suggests a game of UNO that turns the night around VERY fast. (special because it's an orgy. NO DAPHNE)
PART 17- JUST THE VIBE! - The girls and you must go an entire school day with vibrators attached to your pussies that the boys control.
PART 18- Brat taming with Draco and Blaise
PART 19- Theodore and you wonder who fucks Lorenzo the best? And when he can't choose, you both spend a whole week ruining him.
PART 20- How each of the slytherin boys do aftercare
PART 21- How Slytherins party, (or more how freaky the boys get with you and the girls by taking shots off you all)
PART 22- You get jealous seeing a girl flirt with Theodore all night long, and instead of thinking about sex (for the first time ever) you begin to wonder about your relationship with Theodore, especially once you both graduate (FLUFFF, some hurt/comfort)
PART 23- Christmas at Hogwarts but everyone chooses to go home- except Mattheo, given Potter killed his dad during the second war just a year ago, and you, since your parents don't give a shit about you. Wonder how that's gonna go (ANGSTT, hurt/comfort, realized reader and mattheo don't have a lot of normal scenes)
✧[Summary]✧ You have an enormous crush on Mattheo Riddle. Although, you're way too busy pushing your nose into books and being an angel for such a popular guy to look your way. That never stopped you though, your little 'harmless' ways to stalk him around hogwarts has gotten way more ridiculous than ever, as if your eyes lingering on him for way too long wasn't enough. But as time passes by, you slowly notice his figure disappearing within your sight. That's when you realize.. With how frequent you observe his presence in front of you, you never acknowledged watching behind you.
✧[Content]✧ Mature Content, nerd!reader, stalker!reader, fem!reader, stalker!mattheo, obsessive!mattheo, jealous!mattheo, pervert!mattheo, size difference, masturbation, oral sex, unprotected p in v, overstimulation, praising, swearing, teasing, smut with plot, no use of y/n, mattheo loves to tease you because you're always such a goody two shoes, but little does he know what he's about to find out..
✧[A/N]✧ Y'all need to speak up my inbox feeling real lonely 😔 Anyways, my second fic with a different guest, I hope it hits all the right buttons in your complicated brains. Luvlubs, cherubs!
✧[WC]✧ 4.4k
"He looks so ethereal." A random girl practically moaned out 'whispering' to her friends in the quiet library while pointing a long manicured nail at Mattheo Riddle leaning at a bookshelf laughing with his friends. Fuck these girls, why is he so damn popular?
Not that you don't agree with them. Ethereal? Hell yeah he is. He was carved by the finest sculptor of all time, it seems. His effect being on level with the past, present, and future. The image of him lingering with failed restraint and the presence of his name fluttering your heart, but the thoughts of Riddle scattering the inner walls of your brain was expertly masked by a sharp minded perfectionist every academic achiever fears.
Ironed uniform, ends of the white button up neatly tucked underneath your dark pleated skirt, tie securely wrapped below the collar, black robes folded somewhere in your dorm—the summer heat really got to every student, including him, seeing as you weren't the only one without it. Riddle had his black robes off long before he strode in the library—the fabric hanging on his shoulder. His tie loose, top few buttons were undone, shirt untucked, sleeves rolled up, both hands in his pockets, looking fine as ever.
You didn't bother to lower your shameless stare as you sat a few tables before him, books stacked left and right, a couple laid opened in front. To be fair, you were actually studying, but that was until he had to disturb your peaceful study session and decided to walk in. Why is he here anyway? Especially around this hour when he just chatters and jokes around with his group of friends. The hallways are dead silent, why not be there like he always does?
Whatever—you study at this specific table daily right after classes, surely it's fine if you finish a little early and take a break. And when you mean break, you mean staring a little more. You know his whole week schedule like the back of your hand, as if it was yours, but lately he's been missing a few classes, rarely shows up at the great hall to eat, and doesn't go on little smoking trips at night that much anymore. You hate how you notice—it's ridiculous. Your eyes trail as he takes a look at the expensive watch wrapped around his wrist and exits the room—perfect. The clock near the doorway signals that it was time for his quidditch practice (and when your study session ends).
When you arrive at the quidditch stands, there's no greater thing to have than a good guy friend that plays quidditch in the same team as Riddle—Graham Montague, whom you were partnered with once in class. Which also meant you get to watch them especially Riddle every single practice at fridays. It was known by everyone that Graham obviously had interest in you, but being too much of a 'goody two shoes', you were too oblivious to see and ended up pushing him into friend zone more than a couple of times. He was a known heart breaker anyways, he doesn't have any right to deserve you in any way, but you were always too nice to everybody, unknowingly spiked his hopes up with your kindness.
You sat with a book and two water bottles beside you—one for you and one for Graham. He always insists you bring it to him after the practice, but you bring it during just in case anyway. Being the good friend that you are, you occasionally give the sweetest smile man has seen and wave your hands at Graham every time you make eye contact—missing the way Riddle's stare flickering between you and your little friend who is smiling back a little too happily for his liking. His glare was firm, yet behind it, he couldn't hide the jealous storm rumbling within.
"Montague!" He yelled out from a distance, broom flying closer—your eyes switch from Graham's to his. "I chose you to be on this team to play, not to magnet attention. Back on track, c'mon." He patted Graham's back, leaving behind slightly before flashing you a grin with teeth before trailing back to the team. Your heart stuttered violently, thankfully you were sitting down because your knees weakened, as if coordination itself abandoned you.
It went on for couple minutes, and while sipping on your water, you couldn't help but glance more than just a few times at Riddle's focused face as they practice. His brows slightly furrowed, sweat slicked skin, and messy hair. You also noticed him being a little rougher when it comes to giving Montague directions.
Right after the last whistle at sunset—which indicates that their time on the pitch was done, you stood up and rushed down the creaky stairs to give Graham his water that was still ice cold (thanks to magic).
"Thanks, I really owe you one." Graham smiles while panting before he chugs his water down in seconds, some dripping on the sides of his mouth to his neck. You respond with a small smile back, "It's no problem really—"
"May I?" Riddle signals to your bottle that's half full, breathing heavily. Your eyes widened slightly, eyebrows lifting. "Uh—sure!" You squeeked out, blood rushing to your face—he thinks it's absolutely adorable.
"Thank you, sweetheart." He grins at your reaction at the nickname—thighs visibly clenched together. He takes it and twists off the bottle cap, the veins in his hands slightly flexing. You gulp as you quietly observe him tilting his head back, adam's apple bobbing as he drinks the given water, your bottle seeming a lot smaller squeezed in his large hand. After he was done, he licked his lips and wiped his mouth with the back of his free hand, handing you back the empty bottle—fingers brushing a little longer than intended.
To be honest, your neck ached a little looking up at him, but anything for that eye contact. His gaze moving up and down to your small frame. "Hey beautiful," Graham jumped in, causing you to take one tiny step backwards. You hummed in response, completely different to how Riddle reacted—his demeanor seemed like he wanted to rip the guy in half—kind of scary, oh well. "Come with me." Graham continued before capturing your wrist and dragging you with him to the changing rooms.
You struggled to keep up with his long strides and was in the process of protesting before you two came to a sudden stop. "Wait for me, okay?" He pants, sitting you down on one of the benches right outside the showers before entering in one of the shower stalls. Oh. It's this again. Dragging you all the way here just to make you wait for him to shower. He only did this once before when Riddle was in detention and couldn't monitor, now twice. You had no clue why, but considering you weren't familiar with his infatuation with you, it was no wonder you keep up with this shit.
He does it so you can see his bare torso, with just a towel wrapped around his waist. It honestly isn't even worth it. It takes him about an hour to shower, probably doing everything but taking a proper shower. Fidgeting with the hem of your skirt and ignoring a few other teammates other than Riddle roaming around, half an hour passed—only Graham's shower stall still running water. You hear a snicker and looked up, seeing Riddle leaning against the doorway. Shirtless. He only had a pair of grey sweatpants on, hanging low right where his v line ends, hair still damp from showering. Muscles flexed as his arms were crossed. Your cheeks burned at the way his eyes playfully narrowed at you as he caught your eyes wandering a little too low—he didn't mind at all.
He stepped closer, leaning down until you could feel his minty breath on your face. You tried to scoot backwards in your seat—heart beating faster when your back meets the wall and his face gets even more closer. Just when he's only centimeters away is when he stays still—eyes forcefully burning into yours, down all the way to your thighs that are clenched shut, then back to your flushed face, to which you can see that his pupils had dilated.
"What's a such good girl like you doing in the men's changing rooms, hm?" He spoke lowly, but clear enough so you could hear. You parted your lips to respond, but he cut you off, "Or maybe you're troublesome unlike what everyone portrays you to be." He teases, smirking.
"I'm just waiting for Graham." You huff, voice betraying strength. "Well, Graham can wait for himself." He knew Montague's tricks all too well—it wasn't the first time he's used it on someone. He softly grabbed your wrist, bringing you outside.
As soon as your face hit fresh night air, you sighed, relieved. "See what I mean?" He chuckles softly, "Montague isn't worth your time."
You give him a cheeky smile—cute. Moments of comfortable silence and occasional jokes and giggles passed before you both hear Montague's distant voice.
"Guys?"
⏤͟͟͞͞☆
After you both separated at the dorms, offering each other goodnights and doing your before sleep routine, your mind went crazy and your heart threatened to jump out of your chest as soon as your back hit the bed. Although your brain is absolutely about to burst out of excitement, your body can't help but slump against the bed as it's exhausted. It's Friday, understandable. You flutter your eyes closed, sending you to dream world where all dreams happen.
Next thing you know it's morning. Despite it being summer, you've been met with the very cold morning breeze. Rubbing your eyes, it regains focus specifically on a window that's ajar. So that's where the cold wind came from. You stretch for a good second before standing up to shut the window properly—your owl out of sight, it probably escaped, wasn't the first time that happened. Checking the small clock on your nightstand, you should probably dress for—
Oh.
It's Saturday. Damn it. Whatever, you always go to hogsmeade on Saturdays anyway. Whether its to buy clothes, food, read books on a really cold or really hot metal bench, or just walk around, it's basically a part of your weekly shit.
Rummaging through your clothes, you couldn't find single pair of one of your favorite underwear. You swear the number of it is decreasing by day. Finally deciding on a good pair with decent clothes, you took a quick shower, brushed your teeth, changed, and went out for breakfast.
As you passed by the great hall doors, you took some steps back for a sneak peek to check if Riddle was at breakfast.
Dang it—he's not there.
You wonder where he might be during his times of disappearing. Actually, you didn't have to as you walk in a straight line to smash your face right against his chest—thump!
You almost fell, but the image of embarrassing yourself this early in the morning makes you mentally retort and immediately take small steps backwards to balance.
"Looking for someone?" Riddle smirks down at you, "You should at least know by now that Montague sleeps in at Saturday breakfast, no?" His smirk fades away, blinking when he realized that you were probably checking up on your friend after leaving him unresponded yesterday.
"I wasn't—" You closed your lips shut, if you had said that you were totally not peeking through to check up on Graham, all your efforts of being 'sneaky' down the drain. "Mhm, yeah right." Riddle mutters and walks right past you like he never said a word.
What's his problem?
One minute he's taking long heavy strides down the halls, then leaning against a wall smoking a cigarette. He stills for a bit, thinking, you were on your way to hogsmeade by now. Maybe if he runs fast enough he could catch up like he always failed to do.
He shakes his head as if saying no to the voices in his mind. He thinks it's ridiculous, but really he shouldn't be saying anything when he stole a handful of underwear right next to your sleeping self and shoved it down his pockets last night. He shuts his eyes at the thought. He should really give those back, but he didn't—actually he found doing that pathetic, you're not getting those back.
He couldn't care less as he jerked himself off with it. He was absolutely fond of the idea of your underwear covering your cunt all day, the way the fabric fits in all the right places. His dirty fantasies doesn't stop there. Just a glimpse of your big curious eyes looking up at him has him crazily aroused. Oh and that smart mouth of yours has him wondering what other stuff it can do other than speak about complicated potion recipes, how warm your soft lips probably feels when it wraps around his—okay maybe he should stop there. He snaps himself awake from his little imaginations and walks straight to his dorm before he gets caught red handed with a boner.
Later that evening you had a hard time sleeping than usual. Just flipping and tossing around in your bed, eventually giving up and laying limp with your eyes focused on the ceiling. Tomorrow's Sunday, then after that it's Monday, then Tues—ugh—time flies fast. Since sleep neglected you now, you reach out deep into your thoughts looking for something that might help the boredom.
Ah, perfect—Mattheo Riddle.
You remember the way he stared in a specific way at you in potions, the way you made eye contact with him during his practices, the way his veiny hands were buckling his belt when you were peeking in his window while he was getting ready for school, the way his face was so close to yours yesterday at the shower rooms—what if you just leaned in?
His soft lips against yours, that would've felt heavenly. You sigh, this wasn't really the worst thing you've done, so why not? You decide as your hand reaches down to your clothed heat and pressing down on the sensitive area.
You push off your shorts and panties in one go, fingers dragging the dripping arousal right on your little bundle of nerves. Hair disheveled, eyes closed, lips parted as soft moans and whimpers escape, your fingers deliberately circling on your clit. Despite your perverse doings, you looked like a fucking angel.
That's exactly what Riddle thinks—as he shamelessly watches you masturbate and occasionally whisper moan his name through that same window he came in and out of last night.
Fucking hell—his mouth literally waters at the sight. He never knew such a sweetheart like you could ever be touching herself to someone that he thought you had no interest in.
Such a naughty girl, fuck—the way you squirm under your own touch. Such a cute little pussy too, just like how he imagined. Who knew his night could turn around like this just because he wanted to return your stolen underwear while you were—what he thought was sleeping.
As much as how badly he wanted to climb in and help, knowing he's exactly your target, it was wrong of him to do so. That doesn't mean it won't happen, now that he found this little secret of yours, it won't be the last time he gets to see you like this.
While your eyes were shut, desperate to chase that coiling feeling at the pit of your core, Riddle took a ripped piece of paper from your desk with the use of magic and burnt it with the tip of his wand to write on it. With a precise flick of his wand, the stolen relic was returned, neatly placed on your bedside drawer along with the paper.
Although his initial task was done, he didn't leave. From all the way over here, he could tell you were close. He also wishes you would call him Mattheo more often. Maybe then he'll remember this valuable piece of memory as if he would ever forget about it.
Staring intently into your fingers that had graduately sped up, he keeps on watching until at you reach your high and at the brink of gaining consciousness, he's already walking outside like he never passed by.
Fluttering your eyes open and breathing heavily, you cleaned yourself up in the bathroom and came back with a lingering sense that something changed.
Gaze darting across the room until it lands sharply on the bedside drawer. Isn't that your underwear?
How considerate—Riddle had the courage to give you one of the four panties that he stole.
"Where have you been hiding, hm?" You inspect the garment, it seems clean. As you picked it up, something slipped from the drawer and onto the floor. A paper. You picked it up.
Troublesome and naughty too? Who would've thought..? Other than me ;)
Oh fuck.
You read it for about a hundred times before throwing it across the room. You lay slump on your bed, palms covering your eyes. You just wanna fucking sleep, but how can you do that when you know there was definitely someone that saw you masturbating to someone you definitely shouldn't have been masturbating to?
Whatever this shit was, it was a dream. Yeah, a dream.
...
Please fucking wake up right now.
You didn't wake up.
Fuck fuckity fuck.
You curled up in a ball and hid under the covers. Eventually you did fell asleep, but not without having to stress yourself to death. Whoever saw you did what you did, you'll deal with it tomorrow.
Minutes later.. You found yourself wide awake under the moon. Staring at the ceiling. Troublesome? Sounds quite familiar, no? There was only one person who could've gave you that paper—and the missing underwear.
Mattheo fuckass Riddle.
What in the actual fuck was he doing in your room? And more importantly, why the fuck did he steal your stuff? Your heart thumping, you soon realized that you eventually have to confront him, now that he knows it's his name you're moaning when you touch yourself.
But at the same time, it kind of excites you. He literally stole your undergarment(s). What else did he do with them?
Only one way to find out.
After getting ready and changing into appropriate (or not) clothes, you hesitantly went down to the corridor leading straight into an ongoing party, if there was one thing to know about Riddle, it's that he never misses one.
Music blaring in your ears as you enter, glancing from person to person right until one of those eyes were staring right back at you. He gets closer till he was standing in front of you, ears blurred out the music, filling it with the quickening beat of your heart.
"That was you?" Your voice confronting, yet weak as he stepped even closer. He narrows at you, "Knew you're a smart girl, wasn't expecting you to figure it out so easily, huh?" He thinks for a bit, "Don't you think you shouldn't be the only one doing the confronting?" He smirks.
"Riddle." You gulp while looking up at him.
"It's Mattheo." He counters.
"Mattheo." You respond, the name tastes familiar on your tongue, but you never used it to actually address him.
His vision lowered down to your attire. You didn't think much of it as it was rushed, but clearly it made him think a lot more than just a short dress that barely covers anything. You never wore it out before, oh but it hugged your figure perfectly, showing the flesh of your thighs and cleavage that you swore to cover. He audibly groaned at the sight, hands finding the curve of your waist.
Even with all the bright party lights in his eyes, you knew in that moment, whatever he wanted, his eyes told you it was real.
And then it happened. Before any thought could resurface, before restrained unleashed, his lips found yours.
Raw, aching, and claiming. Both hearts thundered, a kiss that burned and drowned in chaos. It took strength to pull away, even to breathe. And once you did, it left you gasping.
His glare was harmless, but it meant something—desperate. His heavy grip, unfaltering, not ready to let go just yet. But then, he loosened his hold.
Instead, his fingers wrapped around your wrist in one swift move and leads you straight to his dorm. Except, he halted right at the door.
"I want you to tell me you need this as much as I do." He breathes, gaze softening.
"I want you." You didn't hesitate one bit.
His palms slide under your thighs and carries you into his dorm as his lips captures yours once more. You gasp into his mouth in surprise when he closes his door by pinning your back onto it.
Fingers grasping and curling against his scalp earns you a groan into your mouth that sends jolts to your core. His lips fierce, but his fingers were gently as it's securely under your thighs supporting your whole weight. He can feel warmth radiating from your body.
Still deep into the kiss, he walks you over to the bed and sits you on his lap. Removing his shirt, it cuts off the kiss. While your at it, you kneeled down on the ground in level to the unmistakable tent in his pants.
His eyes widened, "Darling, you don't have to—" You cut him off with a peck.
"I want to taste you, please..?" You beg and give your best puppy eyes, though you didn't have to, you on your knees for him was already more enough.
"Fuck, baby.." How could he ever resist you?
You watch him unbuckle his belt in full view, in all honesty, it just makes you pool even more. You impatiently pull down his pants and boxers at the same time.
He chuckles while you gawk at his size before reaching down to the ends of your dress and pulls it off as well, leaving you bare with just in a bra and panties. Slowly, your hand reaches to wrap around his length.
My goodness.
Your thumb does not reach the rest of your fingers around him. You mentally prepare your jaw before spitting to lubricate, then wrapping your warm soft lips around it. He groans, perfect.
You lower at least halfway in and do the rest of the job with your both of your hands.
"So good f'me." He rasps.
He slightly jolts in pleasure and whimpers as you swirl your tongue around his tip before bobbing your head up and down again.
You look up at him while he tilts his head back, eyes shut. He's undeniably close, but he hasn't even fucked you yet. Once you pull away to breathe, he takes his chance and throws you onto the bed.
While kissing and trailing hickeys on your neck, he slides a hand under and unclips your bra. A whine escapes past your lips as he latches a nipple into his mouth, sucking and licking and doing the same to the other.
He gradually moves down while the tip of his nose is firmly dragging tingling sensations all over your lower half. He halts right above your pulsating cunt and takes off the final piece of undergarment.
Your breath hitches as his tongue goes contact to your entrance and drags up to your clit, wasting no time. It was his dirtiest fantasy coming to life. His cock throbbing to replace his tongue, a competition, a test to Mattheo's resistance. Although his greediness won over in an instant, as he already planned out to do both.
The pulsating bud begging for air under his tongue makes him no less hungry. "Mmgh—Mattheo!" Your voice struggling to keep up with how much he's lapping you up.
One last lick before his warm lips suck on your clit. "Oh—shit..!!" You tremble as a tight rope inside you just snapped. Warmth gushing your lower half, Mattheo never stopped.
Your mind burns into flames as your eyes roll to the back of your skull. Hands gripped onto his hair, not knowing whether to pull him closer or push him away. Vision blurring, he eventually stops.
He claims your lips in a kiss and positions his tip right to your soaked entrance, collecting arousal. His head drops to your shoulder, placing light kisses as he sinks in. The stretch burning so satisfyingly.
"So perfect 'round me.." He holds your head to his chest when he bottoms out, groaning.
"Yeah—please, mhhm." You choke out eagerly, your pussy swallowing him whole.
"I know, baby.." He groans, holding his high so he can make you feel good first. The first few thrusts had you moaning so heavenly for him. He wasn't quiet either—moans so pornographic it should be illegal.
Speeding up, his cock flush deep inside, skin slapping. He supports his weight on one arm above your head, the other had a soothing thumb grinding deliciously right on your sensitive clit.
Tears brimmed, you looked at him with all your might. His eyes glued at the way his dick slides in and out of your greedy pussy that's securely around him, then up to your teary eyes.
"Yeah that's it, baby. You're doing so good." He forces his words out of his throat. You cry out his name, his steady pace getting harder each thrust.
The tight rope that broke earlier had tied itself, tighter and tighter, until it snapped, hard. Your walls rippled around him, clenching while your legs quivered.
His thrusts finally had it's moment and stutters. He groans and splutters his warm cum inside you, filling you up to the brim. Panting, he pulls out. In awe of his cum dripping out of your pussy.
"No one else ever gets to see you like this ever again." He was tired, but his words were sharp and sure.
"What does that even mean?" You pout, unsure if he's gonna keep you in the dark to have you to himself or well, nothing else.
"You'll find out."
What have you put yourself into?
Although you can't really hide that a part of you doesn't give a flying shit as long as you're in his hands.
I wonder how Graham would feel after finding out his captain fucked his girl(in reservation) 😛
summary: you know what they say about newlyweds, the honeymoon phase. but there was no one quite as obsessed with their wife than the newly married dark lord's heir, mattheo riddle.
warnings: voldemort wins au (although not focused on), mattheo being obsessed with reader, SMUT, pet names, praise, p in v, unprotected p in v, oral (m receiving) in front of someone else. (mattheo so obsessed he does not GAF). light choking, cockwarming ig (?)
authors notes: is it proofread? of course not. but it's my accounts 6th birthday so happy birthday guys!!!
word count: 3.8k
masterlist
the ball was in full swing by the time you got there. grand chandeliers glittered above your head, the ceiling enchanted to look like the night sky. the room was packed with powerful, rich pureblood men and their wives, standing beside them, smiling politely, waiting to be spoken to.
this was what life was now, after the war. lord voldemort, mattheo's father, had ruthlessly crushed the wizarding world, moulding it into exactly what he had always dreamed of. society's elite stood in front of you, participating in their little events. balls, galas, charity events, dinners. all stuff you had never cared for.
"you say the word and we're leaving," mattheo murmured, his lips brushing against your ear as you stepped into the room beside him with a nod. his hand tightened on your waist as every eye turned to you two.
it was quite the spectacle: mattheo, the dark lord's heir, and his new, blushing, perfect pureblood wife. you had married a month and a week ago today, and mattheo had done everything in his power to keep you away from the spotlight. but there was only so much privacy you could have when you married the heir of the dark lord, really.
you remembered the newspapers erupting with the news that mattheo had finally taken his wife. he had been the last of his friends to take a wife, some believing he may never take one. after all, he was incredibly busy with all his ministry work.
he had done his best to hide you, especially given you had been together since before the war. that was six years ago.
"that's her, his wife-"
"-she's a pureblood, of course."
"-very pretty, lord riddle has always had good taste-"
mattheo moved you through the crowd, giving brief introductions and hellos, curt nods as he weaved you through, his hand never leaving your back. he hated these events with every ounce of his being, you knew that.
after all, he had done nothing but complain the last two days, face buried in the side of your neck, groaning about how boring they are, and how he hates everyone that goes. about how he wanted nothing more than to board up the manor with you and never leave.
"we haven't left in over a month, matt," you had said softly, laying down on the bed with him, brushing a curl away from his forehead as he pulled back to look at your face.
"not long enough."
but eventually, he did have to make his return to society. his job and responsibilities required it. he was now basically royalty in the wizarding world, for better or for worse, and the people wanted to see their new princess. you.
you knew he didn't like these galas, but as you looked at his face, he seemed unbothered, calm. you, on the other hand, were not. you could feel every stare, every whisper prickled against the hair on the nape of your neck.
their gazes traced every aspect of you, your hair, your face, your dress. your hands curled into his sleeve imperceptibly. you let out a shaky breath, doing the only thing that made sense for you. the one thing you knew this society desired: you bowed your head, eyes trailing to the ground as you stood by mattheo.
it was graceful, perfect. like a proper pureblood wife.
his eyes flickered to you immediately, noting your position. he hated it, you hated it, but it was the only thing that felt acceptable under the weight of their gazes. from your peripheral vision, you saw the way his jaw ticked, the way his mouth opened as he was about to tell you to stop.
but he didn't get the chance. it wasn't long before you were intercepted, as expected.
"lord riddle." mattheo's gaze snapped from you to the woman who stood in front of him now, giving a practiced curtsy only years of experience in this society could give, "what a pleasure. you've been sorely missed."
she stood from her curtsy, head still bowed slightly as she awaited mattheo's response. she held a sharp smile on her face, one that mattheo did not return, "have i?"
his tone was mild, in a way that made it clear he was completely uninterested and did not wish for an answer. the woman's eyes were quick to flicker to you, assessing, calculating. her gaze wasn't warm, but wasn't necessarily cold, either. just that signature detached look all powerful purebloods seemed to have.
"you must be the bride."
"a pleasure."
"yes," mattheo spoke, his hand that had lay gently on the small of your back tightening, "my wife."
he didn't introduce you the way he was supposed to: yes, this is my wife, or allow me to introduce-. just, my wife. final. he was lucky he could get away with that, his power allowing him to bypass some pleasantries he did not wish to give.
the woman noted it, immediately. her smile didn't falter, but something in her posture shifted, her gaze flickering back over to mattheo, "well, we were beginning to think you'd abandoned us, lord riddle. such a long...honeymoon."
this time, a smile broke out onto mattheo's face. a real flicker of amusement, something normally saved for your private moments, or with his friend. his gaze flickered down to you as he spoke, "some things are more important than balls."
your breath caught. a faint blush creeped up your neck as you bowed your head again, trying to hold the smile that begged to break out onto your lips at his words.
the woman excused herself not long after, but you weren't granted much respite. it turns out, that when someone as prominent a figure as mattheo drops off the face of the earth for a month, suddenly when he returns there is much to discuss.
lords, ladies, ministry officials. all smiles and pleasantries and carefully chosen words, assessing glances trying to figure out the union between him and his new bride, the power shift it represented. that it represented that he would eventually sire an heir and the riddle line would continue.
mattheo endured it. barely. his responses were clipped, efficient, clearly laced with a perfected mixture of disinterest and calculation that reminded everyone exactly who held power in that room, even when he had been gone.
every so often, his fingers would brush your arm, his hand would tighten at your waist, his gaze would soften when it landed on you on the few seconds you got between people who seemed to be lining up to be introduced to you.
the night passed somehow both agonisingly slow and incredibly fast, a weird warp of time, until music started to build for the final waltz. the last dance of the night.
his body went rigid beside you as he watched all couples begin to gravitate towards the dancefloor. his gaze flickered down to you, a small shake of his head, "we don't have to."
you gave him a soft smile back. because yes, technically you did not have to. but it was expected. you should do it. you knew that, he knew that. your voice was soft, "it's just a dance, matt."
his posture shifted just slightly, eyes warming once more as he took a small step forward, turning around. then, he offered his hand out to you, brown eyes catching yours as his lips quirked into a small, private smile.
you put your hand into his as he led you to the dance floor, letting out a soft breath as he turned around to face you, hand settling on your back, eyes focused on you.
the music began to play, and you moved in a practiced, flawless, fluid movement. the second the music started and you began moving, all the other noise faded, the feeling of their burning gazes, the whispers, all you could focus on was the way his eyes, your husband's eyes, warmed when he looked at you.
"stop looking at the floor," he said, and you knew he wasn't talking about now, not when you two had been staring at each other like the other had hung the moon. he meant before, when he was talking to those other lords and ladies.
"i thought that's what a good pureblood wife did," you responded softly, teasingly, as he spun you, before his hand settled back onto your back.
"i didn't marry a proper pureblood wife, i married you," he said, eyes never leaving yours as his hold on your waist tightened, pulling you closer, "and i want them all to see your face, see the beautiful face of my bride."
the music swelled and came to an end, murmurs filling the room as women curtsied to their partners. you held mattheo's gaze for a second more before a smile pulled onto your features, leading down to curtsy.
mattheo was quick to lead you off the dancefloor. the gazes and whispers returned, but this time, neither of you noticed. you were too busy focused on each other.
he leaned in, mouth brushing against your ear, voice low as his arm snaked around to the small of your back again, "come on, time to go."
the second the doors to his study shut behind you, the outside world ceased to exist once more. there were no whispers, no watching eyes, no expectations.
just him.
mattheo didn't even bother with decorum, he took his suit jacket off, throwing it on a heap on the floor and his hands were on you immediately, firm at your waist as he guided you backwards a step, then another until he found his desk chair, sitting down.
"merlin," he breathed, his eyes never leaving yours, "i thought that night would never end."
you barely had time to laugh before he pulled you onto him, your hands instinctively coming to his shoulders as you climbed onto his lap without a second thought, like it was second nature. because it was.
"well i think you handled yourself perfectly, lord riddle." the name was a tease, a joke, a breathless giggle escaping your lips.
he groaned at that, head tipping back dramatically against the chair.
"don't start," he muttered softly, though there was no heat to it, only exhaustion laced with relief. his hands slid down from your shoulders to your waist, to the small of your back, "i've heard enough of that title to last a lifetime."
"mm," you hummed with a smile, fingers brushing through the curls at the nape of his neck, "the ministry seem quite fond of it."
"the ministry," he started flatly, "can survive without me for the night."
your laughter bubbled out again, and this time he smiled, a real, proper smile, eyes softening as he looked up at you.
he looked so different like this. not the heir, the feared name whispered across the country. just your husband. your incredibly handsome husband.
his thumb traced absent circles against your side, gaze drifting over your face like he was memorising it all over again. his eyes were impossibly soft as he soaked in your every move, your small, even breaths, the way your eyelashes fluttered against your cheeks, "they wouldn't stop looking at you."
you tilted your head, "that's kind of the point, isn't it?"
his jaw ticked as he looked away for a fleeting second, before his gaze shot back to you, like he couldn't stand not having you in the centre of his sight, "i don't like it."
there was no teasing in his voice now. no edge, just something low and possessive; honest.
"jealous, are we?"
"violently."
that earned a giggle from you as he leaned down and captured your lips, kiss hungry as if the few hours he hadn't been able to had starved him. a rough hand came up to cradle the back of your head, not caring about messing up your flawlessly styled hair. his other hand stayed firm against your waist, your own hands coming up to trace the curve of his jaw.
"my beautiful wife," he murmured against your lips, saying his favourite words.
he captured your lips once more, this time softer, more gentle, like he was savouring the sensation. his hand moved to your jaw, thumb caressing your cheek gently as he pulled back, brown eyes serious as he looked at you.
"we aren't going to the next one."
"mattheo-"
"i mean it," he said against your lips again, stealing a kiss before he leaned his forehead on yours, "i didn't wait this long to have you just to have to share you with those people."
his lips met yours once more, his hands roaming, exploring your body. the kiss deepened, you leaning back, pulling his lips with you as your hands traced the way down to his trousers, lightly pulling at his belt.
mattheo pulled away, brown eyes flickering to yours as he spoke, "on your knees, baby."
you do as he commanded without a word, dropping to your knees softly, your dress' skirt pooling around you on the floor. with a soft clink, he opened his belt, unlooping it and unzipping his trousers, letting his cock spring free.
you took him in your hand, his hand reaching for your cheek, his head leaning back against his desk chair as he closed his eyes, focusing on the sensation of your hands, warm, wrapped around him. he let out a breath, giving your head a gentle tug forward, letting you know what he wanted.
you didn't hesitate, your tongue poked from between your lips, licking a strip at his tip, the salty taste of his precum against your tongue. you pulled away, your breath fanning over him as you leaned down, your tongue licking from the base to his tip in an agonisingly slow movement.
his breath shuddered, his head moving back to heave a breath before looking back down at you, a breathless chuckle escaping him, "you drive me crazy, angel."
your tongue circled his head once more, taking your time, eyes focused on his face as you used one hand to pump his length and the other to steady yourself against his thigh. then, you took him in your mouth, sinking onto him as you curled your toes, taking him as deep as you could go.
"so good, so fucking good f'me, baby," he praised, hand in your hair as his thumb caressed your cheek.
you worked on him, sucking, swirling, your movements changing from fast to slow, lifting off him for air, circling his tip with your tongue before sinking back down, taking him all in your mouth. he praised you, words falling off his lips as he let out a light groan.
then, a sharp knock sounded against the door.
you halted your movements, looking up at mattheo. he looked down at you, then back at the door, before he shuffled the chair forward, forcing you into the space under his desk. you crouched your head down further, pulling your skirt to hide.
"come in," his voice morphed immediately, totally changed from how he'd spoken to you moments ago. colder, commanding, a voice that would send chills down anyone's spine, no doubt paired with that cold, dead stare that had people's knees shaking.
you couldn't see who it was, after all there was a wooden barrier hiding you from view, and you had your back to the door, mouth still wrapped around mattheo's cock.
"speak."
you tried to move back, to lift your mouth off mattheo's cock as the man who had entered, a worker of mattheo's no doubt, began to speak. mattheo did not say a word to you, did not look down, kerping his dead stare focused on the man in front of him.
but his hand, which had been in your hair, tensed as you pulled away, and it came down to immediately push you back on. you tried to swallow the gag that begged to echo through the room
"my lord, there's been some unrest in the wizengamot."
you stilled your mouth against mattheo, not moving. you couldn't, mattheo's hand was still at the back of your head, not moving either, not wanting to make any noise.
"the wizengamot?" mattheo repeated.
"yes, my lord. they're requesting authorisation to-"
mattheo's hand underneath the table pulled you further, your nose brushing against his pelvic bone as you tried not to gag around his entire length being pushed down your throat, taking him entirely. you heard the silent command: keep going.
mattheo did not let the man finish speaking, "handle it."
"han- handle it how, my lord?"
your tongue swirled around him as you sucked again, starting slower. at the sensation, mattheo's thumb stroked your cheek again, a silent praise of you continuing. your stomach clenched at the thought of your predicament: you hiding under the desk, secretly sucking your husband off as he handled business.
it was exhilarating.
"do you seriously need to ask me that?" mattheo asked from above the table, eyes narrowing. you quickened your movements, moving forwards and backwards again, tongue swirling, sucking. he didn't miss a beat, voice serious, void of the breathless it had held a mere minute ago, "make an example if you have to. what exactly is going on?"
"there is a few sympathisers-"
mattheo's thighs tensed around your shoulders, and you knew what that meant: he was close. you quickened your pace.
"there will be no sympathisers," mattheo cut him off again, "see to it."
"of course, my lord."
there was a brief silence between the two men, mattheo taking a short pause as he let out a breath. your mouth filled with his warmth, taking it all in your mouth as you swallowed, continuing to swirl your tongue up the underside of his dick.
"is that all?" mattheo asked.
"yes, my lord."
"go."
the man was quick to leave as he always was, shutting the door behind him. the second he was gone, mattheo pulled back, rolling his chair back and coming down to put large hands either side of your waist, pulling you up.
you stood in front of him, slightly out of breath as he leaned down, littering nipping kisses down the channel of your neck before turning you around.
"bend over," he commanded, and you were quick to listen to him. your cheek met the cold wood of his desk as you turned your head to the side. it was the perfect height for you to bend over, a design you were sure was not sheer luck.
his hands made quick work of trailing up your leg, bunching up the silk of your dress as his fingers pulled your panties off in a swift movement, fingers pressing against your folds.
"filthy girl all wet sucking me off secretely, hm?" mattheo spoke lowly, his fingers circling as you clenched in anticipation, thighs tensing as he moved his hand away.
you could hear him let out a breath, and then you felt his tip, hard again, ridiculously slow, pressing against your folds. he held it there, watching you bent over for him, the way you tried to back into him. a smirk rose to his face.
"matt, please-" you spoke breathlessly, hands curling against the wood.
he loved this, you knew he did. watching you writhe as he teased your entrance with his tip. the way your back arched subtly, the breathy sounds of your begs. it excited him, it thrilled him.
"only if you ask nicely, angel."
his voice held a tint of amusement, as it always did, as he pressed his tip in, then took it back out, going back to brushing it against your folds. your voice was shaky, breathless, "please, matt, i need you."
"mm," he hummed, watching you with a half-smirk, half-smile. he leaned down, pressing a kiss against your bare shoulder, voice low, "anything for my beautiful wife."
then, he thrusted in. he was not gentle, he didn't ease in by inch, no. he let you feel every bit of him, long, thick, stretching your walls. he didn't let you get used to his size either, no. he thrusted, setting a brutal pace, his hands on your hips as he drove into you.
your back arched against the desk, stomach still covered in the silk of your dress, pressing firmly into the wood. your nails scratched against the desk as you let out a moan. mattheo grunted from behind you, his fingers digging into your hips, making bruises you knew he'd kiss and caress tomorrow morning.
"my filthy girl," he groaned, hands moving to your stomach to pull you up slightly, pace still brutal, your back arching away from him. one hand stayed firm against your stomach, holding you in place, not giving you any escape from his brutal pace. the other made it's way up your stomach, between the valley of your breasts and settled on your throat.
he squeezed it, peering around to look at the sight of his wedding ring, cool against the soft skin of your neck. it glinted faintly off the moonlight, the sight of the gold placed firmly around your neck riling him up more, his pace becoming more brutal.
because that ring, wrapped around your neck, was a sign of what you were. his wife. his.
"mine," he said, "all mine."
his pace faltered a little as your back arched more, both of you reaching your climaxes. he quickly pulled out, you whining at the removal, but he was swift in his movements, turning you around and driving back in.
he liked to look at your face when he made you cum.
and he did. even though his own climax, his eyes remained open, soaking in the sight of your face, lips slightly apart as you moaned, coming down from your high. pleasure he had gave you.
he slowed his movements to a halt after you both came, panting heavily. brown eyes followed your face, the way your chest heaved, and then to where he was still buried inside you, holding his cum inside of you.
with a swift movement, he lifted you up, keeping himself firmly buried inside and sat himself down on his desk chair, you on his lap.
your head came down to rest against his shoulder, eyes shut as you caught your breath. his touch was gentle as he pushed a piece of hair out your face, soaking in the sight of you like this.
warnings: erm smut lol? mdni! heavy praise kink (whoops), slight biting, pet name galore, mattheo did not wrap it before he tapped it, tiny bit of dacryphilia (whoops again that’s on me☹️), perchance a little bit of a size kink, and SICKENING fluff.
summary: puff finally sees mattheo again after summer break!! turns out he missed you a LOT.
word count: 1,806
a/n: oh geez this is my first smut guys! don’t tell me if it’s horrible let me live in delusion LOL but i hope you do enjoy it🤍
returning to hogwarts was always like getting your first real lungful of crisp air after minutes underwater. sure, you enjoyed the break from exams and overwhelming amounts of brain-melting work, as any student would, but hogwarts was… hogwarts. branded into your soul like a moth to a flame. this summer, though, had been particularly painful. it was your first summer with mattheo, or really, your first summer without him.
after being practically being glued together all year, the sudden absence of him was enough to make you insane. you understood why you couldn’t see him over the summer with the imminent danger of his father and all, so you had to settle for only communicating in discreet letters once a week or so. still, everytime somebody said an especially funny joke or told a story you knew mattheo would love, you found yourself looking to thin air for a reaction that would never come.
many nights you would lay in bed, staring at your ceiling, wondering what mattheo was doing in that moment— wondering what he would do when you saw each other again. you didn’t expect this.
“fuckin hell,” he groaned against your neck, his lips trailing up and down and leaving open mouthed kisses wherever his tongue traced. a whimper escaped you as your hands tightened in his curls, pulling and pushing at the same time. he came back up to meet you, swallowing your sounds with his lips so thoroughly that you didn’t even notice he’d reached his hand behind you to unclasp your bra until he pulled away to lavish the newly exposed skin, spewing words like a man possessed.
“missed you so much, pretty.”
“torture without you.”
“fuck, thought about doing this so many times.”
you tried to keep up, but his mouth was running too fast and doing too many sinful things and all you could do was lie there and take it. you reached for his hand, needing something to keep you stable, to keep you here on this plane while desire was so intent on dragging you into unknown depths. his fingers curled around yours and he looked up at you with a look you’d never seen so clearly— pupils blown wide with worship and lust, cheeks flushed, curls frazzled. and with that look, that look hell bent on destroying you, he slowly lowered his face to your wrist and left the softest yet somehow most destructive kiss on the inside of it, inhaling deeply as he did.
yeah. he was definitely trying to destroy you, you thought as he tugged your panties down and your fingers fumbled to undo his belt. “need you, matty. please.” you’d like to say that it didn’t come out as a pathetic little plea, but you were never a fan of lying. “i know, baby. but my girl can’t take it yet, ‘s been too long.” and with that, his mouth met your core, and any hope of coherent thoughts was gone.
it was filthy, the way his tongue split your folds, lips slick with spit and your arousal as he sucked and nipped and traced anywhere it landed. you didn’t register the way your thighs tightened around him, trying to trap him between your legs as if he’d rather be anyplace else. didn’t register the way your hips bucked up into him as he let out a low rumble, or the loud cry that left your lips. no, the only thing you were aware of was his mouth on your cunt and his hands digging into your plush thighs.
you felt the press of his fingers coming to find your entrance sloppily, whining when he pushed two in torturously slow, the stretch stinging in the most satisfying of ways. “that’s it, honey. doing so good.” the words were muffled against you, and the vibrations of his voice, deep with thirst, had your nails biting into his shoulders. that deadly mix, the mix of his fingers pumping lewdly against your gummy walls and his tongue swirling circles around your clit, had you teetering on the edge within moments.
“matty-"
“i know, puff. give it to me, yeah?”
and then you were coming, waves of ecstasy rushing over you like a tidal wave as you instinctively tried to buck away from mattheo, legs trembling. he tutted and tightened his grip around your thighs, tugging you back onto his face with no effort. and if you let out a small yelp at the way his lips brushed over your sensitive core, then nobody would blame you.
he rubbed soothing little circles on your hips through the quivers, murmuring deliciously crude words against your skin that had it heating up once more. he pulled away after a moment, laughing lowly at the huff you released upon his departure. your mouth snapped shut real quick, though, as he pulled his unclasped belt through the loops in a swift motion, watching you with dark eyes.
his slacks fell carelessly to the floor in the growing pile on discarded clothes, and then his boxers, and suddenly he was just as bare as you, sculpted and defined and so hard it looked like it hurt. he dragged you closer to him as if you weighed nothing, biceps bulging with the movement. your eyes tracked it, and you realized with abrupt fascination that your cunt clenched pathetically around nothing.
the way he was looking at you, so heated and focused, had you shuffling beneath his gaze, eyes darting to find easy places to look. his palm tangled in your hair, pulling carefully so your stare met his.
“okay?”
you softened, nodding.
“words, puff.”
“i’m okay.”
he leaned forward, breathing in deep as he laid a kiss in your hair. “good girl.” and then he was pressing into you, warm and rigid and so unbelievably deep that you couldn’t quite understand how he wasn’t in your stomach. you could feel him everywhere, in every ridge and crevice of your being, stretching you so thoroughly so that you end would up molded, unable to match anyone but him.
“fuck, i know, baby. let me in, yeah? you can do it.” the words were choked, as if every cent of his willpower was going into not bullying your cunt open with a single thrust. just when you thought you might not be able to do it— that there simply wasn’t enough room for him in your body— something gave way and he was buried to the hilt, filling you until you could feel the head of his cock nudging your cervix.
“shit. there you go, honey- thank you.” it was nothing more than an animalistic groan, delivered panting into your ear and making goosebumps race all over your skin. you might’ve laughed, might’ve supplied a teasing you’re welcome, if you were able to relay anything more than breathy little moans and whines and the occasional, “oh, god.”
he moved slowly, testing the waters and watching closely for your reaction, pleased with the way your eyebrows scrunched together and your mouth parted in a silent cry.
“knew you could do it. you’re just made for me, aren’t you?”
“mffg.”
the chuckle he released was mocking, delivered with a sharp thrust that left you shoving your head into his chest with a mewl, gripping at his back for support. “my poor girl. just needed me to come back and make a dumb little mess of you, huh?” as he spoke, his palm smoothed your hair lightly, his cock moving to push against that one spot that had you biting down on his bicep with a moan. he hissed, trying not to come then and there as he witnessed you pull back, eyes all foggy and and blown wide as you looked down at where your teeth marks lay in his skin.
you opened your mouth, maybe to apologize, but he’d never know because he pushed you back until you were laying flat and pliant beneath him and started shoving in and out of your soaked cunt like a man turned feral, mesmerized by the way you clenched down on him and clawed helplessly at the sheets.
“soaking me, sweetheart. such a pretty little mess. fuck, missed this so much. she missed me too, didn’t she?”
“yes, matty, shit—please.”
you didn’t know what you were asking for, all you knew was that you would say yes to anything he asked so long as he kept pounding into you the way he was now, unrelenting and as desperate for you as you were for him. you could feel your gut tightening, the way the heat spread throughout your entire body like a singular nerve about to set on fire. mattheo could feel it, too, clearly, by the low groan that came from his chest.
he grabbed your hand, then, practically encompassing it in his own much larger one, and brought it down onto your lower stomach. “feel that, puff? feel how deep i am?” the whimper that left you was pure sin as he pressed down your hand, suffocating himself in between you with a curse. you felt salty tears well up in your eyes despite yourself, wrecked and overwhelmed with pleasure in the most wonderful of ways. mattheo saw instantly, softening.
“crying, sweet girl?” he wiped away a tear you hadn’t realized had fallen, thrusts not slowing. he knew what you needed, and stopping most definitely wasn’t that.
“mhm. ‘ts good.” you mumbled, sniffling as you felt your release approaching. mattheo pulled you closer, leaving a kiss on your temple and rubbing you soothingly.
“i know. come for me, baby.”
and you did, because you were nothing if not a great listener. surges of pleasure hit you as you sank into his arms, whining and shaking and scratching at his skin. mattheo followed after a moment with a broken groan and a low swear, spurts of warmth coating your walls as he held himself above you with trembling arms so as not to crush you.
you laid there within one another, sweating and panting, limbs entangled, chests pressed together as you came down. you could feel his heartbeat fluttering rapidly against your own, matching it in a beat so familiar. your eyes met his, tender and careful, and his lip quirked up.
“hi.”
you let out giggle. “hi.”
his lips met your neck, not arousing, just a steady press against the marks he’d left there, loving and meticulous. and then he was raising himself, pulling out of you cautiously and frowning at your slight wince, muttering a small, “sorry, pretty. did so good.” and then a soft, “be right back.”
when he returned a moment later from the bathroom with a wet rag and one of his oversized t-shirts, you knew for certain that there was no one else you’d rather spend your nights with.
CW: Condescension, mock sympathy, begging, rough sex, unprotected vaginal sex, creampie, choking kink, hairpulling, brief spanking, he makes her taste it, dirty talking, filthy description
Tom Riddle is not a jealous partner.
Why?
Because jealousy is shallow and juvenile- a sign that one is unable to control their emotions, and an implicit admission that they believe they are not as good as the person they envy.
As someone who receives outstanding grades, glowing praise from every professor, a former prefect, and a Head Boy with a myriad of achievements, jealousy is beneath Tom Riddle. It's a weak, sentimental indulgence he simply cannot afford. A frivolous behaviour he refuses to entertain.
So if you decide to provoke him- to test or rile him up as a way to draw his attention- he'll not give you the satisfaction of starting a scene.
He'll remain steadily calm throughout Transfiguration as he observes the way your hand purposefully lingers and grazes against Rosier's whilst exchanging notes.
He offers no objection when you choose to partner up with Abraxas instead for a Potions assignment, despite the fact that he's Slughorn's star student. He simply returns to his cauldron, stirring with measured precision whilst mentally noting how close you've drifted to the blond, playfully flicking moondust onto his side of the bench.
As the day wears on and evening settles over Hogwarts with students gathering in the Great Hall, Tom cuts at his roast beef and sips from his goblet with his usual composure. Beside him, you laugh a little too enthusiastically at Mulciber's moronic joke and drawl, "Oh Mulciber, you're too funny."
You take a bite of the food from your plate, discretely glancing sideway towards Tom who sits primly with an impeccable posture by your side. Nothing. Not a clench of his jaw or a clipped remark. Not even a tightened grip on his drink.
If he notices your transparent attempts, he hides it well. Tom merely dabs his mouth with a napkin before rising from his seat, quietly excusing himself to retire early for the night.
His departure sends a small pang of disappointment stirring deep in your stomach. Had you really spent the entire day orchestrating schemes to make him jealous...only for him to remain completely unreactive?
Does he even care at all?
By the time you return to the Slytherin common room, the dungeons are veiled with a misty blanket of pale moonlight, serene and utterly quiet with only the distant trickle of a fountain and the occasional breeze of the castle's ghosts travelling about.
At this time, most of the girls' dormitory has fallen asleep, except for the dull, incremental rhythm of a grandfather clock. You're just about to crawl into bed when you spot it.
A small note written in a familiar, elegant script rests neatly atop your nightstand: "Come to my dorm. It'll be wise to not keep me waiting- T.M.R"
Back arched in a humiliating position, smudged mascara streaks down your cheeks, mingling with a broken stream of frustrated yet blissful tears. Your face is buried in his pillows, and the firm grip he has on the back of your neck does little to stifle the string of pleading noises that slip from your swollen lips.
"P-Please Tom-" You whine with a wet sniffle, the sound slightly muffled but loud enough for him to make of your request. "Too big...t-too much"
Tom's hips snap against yours, maintaining the same brutal and unrelenting rhythm he'd set from the moment he's sunk into you. Really, you should be glad he's even decided to fuck you tonight. After you publicly embarrassed him and whored yourself around his confidants and closest friends, you've given him every reason to be rough.
He wraps your hair around his hand and delivers a small but sharp tug that pulls your head up from the pillows until you're close enough to feel the warmth of his breath hit the shell of your neck. "What was that, hm?" he asks, his voice dripping with faux sympathy as he meets you with a particularly rough thrust that draws a broken moan. Tom tuts, "Too much for you? You want me to slow down, is it?"
Just as you’re about to answer, his hand that had been gripping your hip comes down on the curve of your ass with a loud smack, leaving behind a blooming sting that makes you tense.
"Ah! Please, Tom! Please-"
"Can't hear you, love. Not over the slicked sound of you taking me so well. Don't you hear that? How wet you are for me?" Tom angles his hips, watching you closely as he deepens himself to hit that spot inside you even more intensely. Plap. Plap. Plap. You don’t think it’s possible to feel this full.
His grip on your nape adjusts to wrap around the base at the front of your neck instead, squeezing just enough to manipulate your breathing but not enough to cut off your airway entirely. You gasp at the change, especially when Tom pulls out until only the head of his cock remains before slamming back inside, sheathing himself fully and feeling as your walls flutter and struggle to accommodate him, even now.
Seeing the tears on your cheeks, hearing the desperation in your voice, and feeling the way you're squeezing around him tighter like a vice only makes him harder in a sickening way.
"No more words?" Tom taunt, "Have I fucked you dumb on my cock? Pathetic."
Another smack lands on your ass, the sound reverberating through the room he'd purposefully chosen not to cast a silencing spell on tonight. Smack. Then another. Smack. And another. Smack. Let them hear, Tom thinks. All of them. In fact, they're probably rubbing and palming themselves to the sound of you being thoroughly wrecked right now. Knowing that only he gets to have you like this fuels him further.
"You thought you were so clever, didn't you? Parading around in that short skirt, leaning across the benches and laughing at their mediocre attempts at joking." Your vision has blurred at this point, thighs beginning to quake as your lips tremble. "It wasn't cute." Tom breathes out a dry laugh. "It made you look cheap and desperate, love."
Tom tightens his hold on your hair, your scalp now slightly sore as he yanks harder until your back is pulled against his firm chest. "We're not done yet. Don't you dare black out on me." His cock drills in and out of you, almost as if he wants to mould your pussy to remember the shape of him. At this point, your words have long transformed into incoherent babbles and discontinuous noises. You can feel it- the familiar pressure of climax building and building and building between your legs.
The hours stretch and pass by in a blur, and you've quickly lost count of the number of times you've come undone on his cock. A small patch of sticky mess has formed beneath the two of you on the mattress.
Finally, seeing your limp and fucked-out state, Tom releases a low grunt and buries himself to a hilt before spilling inside you- deep, warm, and full- before pulling out and leaving a messy trail seeping out from your sore cunt, slowly dribbling down your thighs. Your body collapses tiredly onto his mattress.
Tom gathers a smeared mix of your cum, commanding a low "open your mouth" before sliding his slicked fingers past your lips and pressing it against your tongue. "Remember how this tastes the next time you decide to do something this foolish." His expression softens only slightly as he brushes away your tears and tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ears. "Never again will you test me."
The soft caress of his thumb is a stark contrast to the hours spent before as a reminder. "Nod if you understand."
Slowly, you do. A languid nod as exhaustion settles over you, making your eyelids heavy and droopy as the tension begins to fade.
"That's my girl," he murmurs, "If you want my attention, you need only ask. But you have it. Always."
Tom Riddle is not a jealous partner.
At least that's what he tells himself. And maybe, just maybe, there's a small part of him that knows it's not entirely true. After all, lying is another trait for the weak of mind.
A/N: First Tom Riddle fic bc there's a criminally low number of authors writing for him so... yeah! If it’s not the best it’s cause I wrote it half asleep
you’re supposed to just be friends – that, and nothing more. yet here you are: naked and tangled in mattheo’s bed sheets, your slick virgin cunt grinding ever so fucking desperately against his thick, throbbing cock.
he won’t push in – fuck. no, no, no, no, no. no matter how badly the both of you want it. his jaw is clenched, tight enough his teeth might just crack and his hands; warm and rough, grip at your hips to keep you sliding up and down as each drag of your swollen clit catches on every ridge, every vein, every inch.
you’re dripping. his sheets are a mess. you’re coating his cock with a wetness that mixes oh so deliciously with his precum as it smears across your thighs and hot over your folds. each move sending filthy wet sounds echoing throughout the dorm that drown out the party down the hall.
he's hard. you’re trembling. he whimpers. you almost forget how to breathe.
“matty, please..”
“n-nuh..”, he groans; voice wrecked; hips bucking despite himself as he begins to fuck your thighs.
you feel him twitch. feel him squirm. feel him shudder.
“..you’re too good for me. fuck.. too fucking good for me.”
you’re both shaking. so close to the edge. so close to breaking. this is harder than ever, you’d prefer sex, hell – but he doesn’t want to be the asshole that ruins you. so, to stay friends – you’ll settle for this instead.
stories of mattheo riddle that I love and will read for eternity. make sure to read warnings on each fic!! all the love to the authors who share their work and talent!! and show them some love by leaving a comment, reblog or both! — ps: lmk if links don’t work, if anything ‘mattheo riddle’ tag holds everything i add here as i reblog all of them!
≠ a habit not to make. @s1ater
In which you spend the night in mattheo's bed, sending straight for an interesting morning.
≠ ferrari. @/s1ater
you and mattheo have a relationship that runs on hypocrisy and toxicity.
≠ everything and nothing, part two. @/s1ater
mattheo brings along a girl none of your group is fond of, especially you and the timing of it all is horrible.
≠ dont tell. @/s1ater
mattheo can’t help but want his best mates girl and couldn’t be more thrilled when he finds out the attraction goes both ways
≠ obedience. @my-hearts-kickdrum-type-beat
Your boyfriend loves you. His friends think he worships you. You're alright with both interpretations.
≠ like real people do. @/my-hearts-kickdrum-type-beat
Your boyfriend didn't know what love was until you. Not passion, not admiration... not guilt. When he heard you split your precious knuckles over him, he ran to his love.
≠ virgin fucking mary. @heavenlybodies333
she told you she’s celibate, but she told me I can rail her shit
≠ 6-inch role. @yuunarii-arii
You and your boyfriend bet on who depends on more physical attention, so along with that bet, neither of you were allowed to touch the other. Unless you wanted to admit defeat. So, in the spirit of your little game, even Umbridge added a rule to help play along.
≠ ustulation. @gibsluv
in wich mattheo knew that the best way to piss off his quidditch rival was to fuck his girlfriend.
≠ pull my strings. @theladyriddle
"Tonight, I'm in the hands of fate, I hand myself over on a plate now, Come, pull my strings, watch me move, I'd do anything, please (I'm yours to keep)."
≠ bedtime-meow. @puddlesoffrogs
Mattheo is late for his bedtime, and your cat is not happy about it.
≠ aftermath of a fight. @/puddlesoffrogs
a lil angsty draft of my fav toxic ex trope with Mattheo
≠ silent treatment. @sadnymi
Giving Mattheo the silent treatment after an argument wasn't the best idea after all
≠ aurora, part two. @lushleona
in the aftermath of the second wizarding war, mattheo is sent to azkaban for his crimes. when released and faced with the harsh reality that you had, unbeknownst to him, had his child and had been raising her alone all these years, he falls apart.
≠ dont be scared. @/lushleona
you have no idea how to feel when you find out that one of your closest friends may have some feelings for you that go far beyond friendly admiration…
≠ he’s mine. @/lushleona
getting into the christmas spirit is proving tricky when your little sister decides your boyfriend is her new best friend, and she’s not letting him out of her sight anytime soon.
≠ @/lushleona’s masterlist for mattheo.
love her work! many fics for mattheo !!
≠ the archer. @wordsarelife
when you state starts worsening, you hope to pull away from everything without someone noticing. but mattheo notices the signs, and he won't let someone he lo— he won't let you slip away...
≠ Gryffindor fever. @papercorgiworld
While the Slytherins usually bully you, everything drastically changes when you go missing and Mattheo finds out he might have, what Pansy calls: Gryffindor fever.
≠ bloodlines. part two. @cipheress-to-k-pop
When a centuries-old vow comes into fruition, you're bound to the boy who once swore he'd never love anyone — especially not you.
≠ party of you, part of you. @/cipheress-to-k-pop
Mattheo had been losing his belongings, forgetting things, and feeling uneasy about that random girl who was always staring at him. His solution? Blame Theodore. It's always that damn astronomy tower.
≠ beauty and the beast, part two. @/cipheress-to-k-pop
Mattheo Riddle, the infamous heartbreaker, gets his heart broken.
≠ love next door. @/cipheress-to-k-pop
Your next-door neighbor in a London apartment… Mattheo Riddle? Yeah, didn’t see that coming either.
≠ amortentia. @/cipheress-to-k-pop
He smells like trouble — and you’re violently allergic.
≠ the AO3 curse. @/cipheress-to-k-pop
Next time your favorite author takes a little longer than usual to update, maybe trust your instincts. They might be stuck in a certain point of the story. And no, I don't mean writer's block.
≠ family lines series. @/cipheress-to-k-pop
Curly brown hair? Brown eyes? You must be a Riddle.
≠ lost in translation. @/cipheress-to-k-pop
Mattheo Riddle has never confessed to anyone, which is why his first attempt went so badly
≠ forever yours. @allurearia
3 times where Mattheo Riddle was a amazing boyfriend
≠ mattheo's mixtape. @prythiansprincess
≠ chicken noodle soup. @/prythiansprincess
≠ azúcar. @/prythiansprincess
≠ heart on my sleeve. @/prythiansprincess
≠ a taste of the divine. @/prythiansprincess
vampire! mattheo
≠ felix felicis. @/prythiansprincess
once is by chance, twice is a coincidence, but three times is a pattern. when he tries and fails to ask you out for the third time, mattheo riddle becomes convinced that a little liquid luck is all he needs to succeed. after all, desperate times call for desperate measures.
≠ rude boy. @/prythiansprincess
mattheo riddle is the most annoying, pompous, and egotistical wizard that you had ever had the displeasure of meeting. you couldn't stand the cocky bastard, so why did you accidentally moan his name while in bed with another man?
≠ focus on me. @/prythiansprincess
≠ play with fire. @/prythiansprincess
≠ unexpected. @suugarbabe
reg: maybe enemies to lovers, like they hate each other and then realize that they are soulmates and then have to figure out what to do.
≠ fuckcraft and rizzardry. @kittyminion
for so long, mattheo only thought of you as his friend—that he occasionally slept with—but after you invite him to your house for winter break, he sees you in a much broader light
≠ after hours. @tea-biscuits-books
everyone at hogwarts thinks mattheo riddle hates you. by day, he sneers, insults, and makes sure everyone knows it. by night… he’s at your door, bruised, broken, and clinging to you like you’re the only thing keeping him together.
≠ “but i miss you...” “hon’ i just left fifteen minutes ago.” @lov3notts
≠ honey and venom. @riddlesrizzler
your twang, makes mattheo develop a thang for you.
≠ ABC smut head canons. @artytaeh
in one word, mattheo riddle is messy. that's the way that mattheo loves the most: messy, passionate, nasty, almost impulsive. a mess of feelings and urges alone.
≠ Moth to a flame. @bivaciously
After breaking up with Mattheo and getting in a new relationship, the past should stay forgotten, right? So, why do you keep drifting back to him?
≠ veritaserum. @redeemingvillains
when mattheo drinks veritaserum on a bet, he's confident he doesn't have anything to hide... until you show up.
≠ the playlist. @/redeemingvillains
enzo overhears something about you he shouldn't have and when he tells his friends, all hell breaks loose.
≠ only for you. @/redeemingvillains
mattheo is certain he knows what affection is, until he meets you.
≠ once, now and always. @/redeemingvillains
the greatest wizard of all time has an urgent message for mattheo about his past, present, future, and your place in all three.
≠ “Appearances Can Be Deceiving” @viccyzsasz
The Slytherin boys joke about you in the common room—until Mattheo cuts through it with a smirk and a truth only he knows.
≠ A tender kind of wrong. @nottsnymph
when the night of the yule ball grew quiet and winter wrapped the world in silver light… you ended up facing the one person you weren’t ready to see again. The one person you can’t seem to stop loving, no matter how wrong it is.
≠ nerdy. @nottendo
part one: cute and a little fluffy. two nerdy boys geeking out over a stunning girl.
≠ candy canes. @/nottendo
≠ just friends. @/nottendo
≠ reputation. @/nottendo
≠ occlumency. @/nottendo
≠ sit. @/nottendo
≠ share. feat theo. @/nottendo
≠ nails. @/nottendo
≠ paris. feat theo & draco. @/nottendo
≠ divorced to lovers. @govnder
≠ mattheo riddle as a toddler father. @/govnder
moments as a father.
≠ magic mike!mattheo. @/govnder
≠ tear you apart. @/govnder
mattheo riddle realizes that he is not above the obsession that runs through the riddle family's blood.
≠ not going anywhere. @preeewrites
A bright, stubborn Hufflepuff refuses to stay away from the cold, guarded Mattheo Riddle.
≠ absolutely fine. @/preeewrites
After agreeing to a three month separation, Mattheo insists he’s perfectly fine without her. Unfortunately for him, everyone else knows he’s lying.
≠ say it again. @/preeewrites
just friends….
≠ you never asked. @powerviolent
reg: i’d love to see some mattheo riddle angst where he finds out how much he’s fucked up hufflepuff!user mentally after years of not knowing what they are to each other. i’ve been thinking about this for a while and you’re the first person i’m asking about it.
≠ He’s just nice. @faestria
Everyone is convinced you're dating Mattheo Riddle- except for you
≠ Everyone I love will leave me. @/faestria
Despite his brooding asshole persona, Mattheo hates fighting with you.
≠ Wear my name. @cloveswifey
Before Mattheo’s Quidditch match, a soft, intimate morning turns tense when his possessive streak shows over not wearing his jersey. In the stands, playful banter with Pansy is interrupted by an unwanted advance from another student, causing Mattheo to react publicly and harshly. His accusation leaves Y/N humiliated and hurt, and she walks away before the match is even over.
≠ keep quiet. @slytherinboysvip
tease your boyfriend and earn a quickie; just keep quiet
≠ jealous. @kittyyykittyyykittyyy
mattheo grows suspicious of you and theo’s relationship after you thought you smelled him in the amortentia, but is ultimately left embarrassed when he learns the truth.
≠ soulmates. @elwilliamsgf
Soulmates are a rare find. Ancient texts describe that soulmates had the ability to feel each other's pain. It wasn’t common to absentmindedly find your soulmate on the street, but what if you found yours in potions class? Given that it’s also the last person you’d expect them to be.
≠ bsf mattheo with hufflepuff reader. @slytherinboysvip
reg: Imagine best friend Mattheo being absolutely obsessed with his innocent little Hufflepuff bsf but she just can’t tell. Everyone else knows, and it is quite obvious, but she just can’t think someone like him would want someone like her. But when she jokingly says she’s gonna get Cedric to take her virginity he decides it’s time he came clean.
≠ after the storm. @girllblogging777
you can’t find your boyfriend after an argument, and the castle is surrounded by dementors
ending this with a other fic recs from these amazing people!!
≠ Mattheo Riddle fics. @sweetestsallow
≠ Mattheo riddle rec. @midniqhtt
If some of these don’t pop up, please go click on my tag of ‘Mattheo Riddle’ and a reblog will be there!!
I’m sad that I don’t read Harry Potter as much anymore so that’s why I decided to make this!! I hope someone is alive in the Harry Potter community and enjoys this! To my 13-year-old self <3 Reblogs are much appreciated !!
mattheo drapes an arm around your shoulders as you lean into his touch. he’s busy re-reading his charms essay as you scroll on your phone. a few scrolls in on tiktok and you’re already giggling. oh, this was going to be fun.
“baby, i just saw theo on tinder,” you exclaim, faking a loud gasp.
“what? as in theodore? my best friend, theodore?”
“mhm yea him,” you giggle.
mattheo throws back his head in laughter, “i thought he was still on that ravenclaw girl!”
it’s at that exact moment that the realisation kicks in. his eyes widen, shock slowly settling in his features.
“baby…why are you on tinder?” mattheo questions, frowning.
you tilt your head innocently, “what do you mean?”
mattheo sits upright completely, looking just slightly terrified now.
“give me your phone.”
except, you don’t. instead you shake your head coyly and wiggle a little further from him on the bed. mattheo only gets more frantic, inching closer and closer to you.
“baby, why are you on tinder? c’mon let me see what you’re doing on there hm?” he lunges towards your phone in a desparate attempt. only, he lands on top of you. now that you’re completely at his mercy he demands to know what’s going on!
“explain,” his arms are crossed, his eyebrows furrowed and his lips pressed together.
“it was a prank, matty!” you let out the laugh you’ve been holding in as mattheo flops down next to you rolling his eyes. oh you were sooo in for it now.
