Mattheo stared at his girlfriend who was currently screaming at some random man who happened to get on your nerves; a smile spread across his face at the sight. "She's having fun, I think I'll leave her be."
"The poor bloke isn't havin any fun." Blaise commented with a small smile of his own before looking back at mattheo.
"She's quite beautiful when she's mad, no?" Theodore asked with a side smile.
"Believe me, nobody loves my vindictive bitch more than I do." Mattheo grinned ear to ear as you tormented the poor man.
His hot headed girlfriend.
Once you had finally returned to him, he placed a kiss on your cheek before moving it to your lips. "What happened?"
"What happened? I'll tell you what happened!" As you had begun to tell your story, Mattheos friend swore he had hearts for eyes.
His hand was caressing your own, staring deeply at your face with a small - subconscious smile on his own. "I love you." He blurted out whilst you were mid-rant making you falter almost instantly.
You smiled softly. "I love you too, but don't ever interrupt me again."
"Of course, my apologies baby." He placed a kiss on your forehead, his arm now wrapped around your shoulder possessively.
You had started once again complaining about whatever the man had done earlier causing Mattheos lovestruck look to return once more - not that it ever really wore off.
He was simply too in love to have any self respect when it came to you.
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.
synopsis. mattheo’s used to fucking strangers in his bed. but the only pussy he wants to ruin is his roommate’s — virgin, wet, and already calling for him.
pairing. roommate! mattheo riddle x reader
content/mdni. fem!reader, virgin!reader, prude!reader, shy!reader, roommate!au, himbo!mattheo, fuckboy!mattheo, down-bad!mattheo, mentions of sex (with other women), eavesdropping, clit stimulation, fingering, mattress-fucking/bed-humping, masturbation (m and f), teasing, praise, dirty talk, degradation, name-calling (good girl, angel, sweetheart, virgin, whore), messy, unprotected p in v, CREAMPIE, tummy bulge, a lot of plot, allusions to romantic feelings (mattheo doesn’t understand why he is so keen on you)
word count. 3.6k
a/n. hello! i am alive, yesss. sorry for being so absent, love and deepspace is taking over my life, haha. this is based off a very old ask, but i can’t find it anymore. hope you enjoy this tho! feedback and reblogs are extremely appreciated!
“f-fuck, fuck, fuck.” the girl rapped curse after curse, one hand pushing against the headboard while the other gripped onto mattheo’s strong shoulder.
“ugh, d-don’t stoppppph…” and she gasped, slurring her words, so overwhelmed by the feeling of his girthy cock pushing against her tight walls. “ev-even if i pass out.”
two more thrusts of mattheo’s hips and the random woman in his bed was knocked out for good; body limp, only bouncing into the mattress because of his unwavering movements. just like she asked, he continued to fuck his throbbing cock into her, now chasing his own orgasm.
it was a recurring situation — having half-drunk women passing out in his bed, so the request of this night’s girl was not foreign to mattheo riddle.
he was going to fulfill her wish, make her cum around his cock one last time and relieve himself at the same time.
another recurring situation was his cute roommate masturbating to the sounds of his hook-ups.
the first time it happened, mattheo swore he was hearing things. he was quite drunk, pounding a stranger into his mattress from behind, curses and moans permeating the air… when he heard a distinct and unfamiliar noise.
your whines.
it was just for a second, a strangled sound of pleasure hitting his ears through the thin wall separating your rooms. but he heard it. it definitely wasn’t from the girl he was plowing into, as her face was shoved deep between his blankets and pillows. it definitely wasn’t him — that high pitch, almost breathy moan came from a woman.
but he brushed it aside at that time, blaming his drunken state and his weird inexplicable attraction for you.
this time, mattheo wasn’t going to let it slide. he heard you for sure, even clearer than before. even as his headboard slammed into the wall, his own grunts joining in into a sinful ballade, he could make out the rustling of sheets and the dainty and muffled moans of yours.
and, fuck, if that wasn’t turning him on even more.
his sweet prude of a roommate was playing with her dripping pussy while he was fucking some rando he found at the club.
at first, he slowed down. just enough to listen.
your little noises drifted through the paper-thin wall, not loud enough to be deliberate, but not quiet enough to escape him. and there they were… sugary, stuttered gasps, the kind of sounds you probably tried to swallow in your pillow, but failed miserably because you were too far gone.
mattheo’s cock throbbed violently inside the passed-out girl beneath him, making him groan loudly. he was still moving — rutting into her like he promised he would — but his mind wasn’t in this room anymore.
his mind moved into your room.
he imagines you curled up under your covers, your tiny hand between your thighs, clumsy fingers working your virgin pussy while you pretend he can’t hear you. he pictures your lips parted, head tilted back, eyes fluttering shut as you let out another soft moan, circling your puffy clit with unsure fingers.
the image alone had his balls tightening.
“fuck…” he moans low, the sound more guttural than intended, his eyes squeezing shut to preserve that lewd picture of you in his mind.
his thrusts picked up again, harder this time, chasing the vision he’s painting in his head. because it’s not this stranger he wants — it’s you.
his shy, polite, good girl.
the one who blushes red like a beet whenever his towel slips too low after a shower.
the one who can’t meet his eyes when he asks about her day, staring at her feet the whole time.
the one who’s never had a man touch her… but touches herself at night while he’s breaking his bed with someone else.
suddenly, mattheo gripped the random girl’s hips like a vice, fucking her with more vigor, fingers digging deep into her skin from need. but it’s your name he nearly moaned into the dark as his cock is swallowed whole. his jaw flexed, his body burning with raw desire, and, in that moment, he didn’t care if you knew he hears you. in fact, he wants you to know.
he wants you to realize that he knows exactly what you’re doing — and that he’s imagining himself between your thighs instead of this useless woman under him.
he hissed through his teeth, hips stuttering hard as his orgasm was approaching rapidly. in his mind, it was no longer the drunk girl clenching around him: it was your tight, wet cunt struggling to take him. it was your voice crying out his name, your body trembling against his.
and fuck if that didn’t make him want to break down the wall between your rooms.
he bit down on his bottom lip, muscles all over his body flexing, trying to hold out just a little longer. not for the girl passed out beneath him — no. she was nothing but a warm sleeve around his cock.
it was for you.
because your little whimpers were getting sharper now. hurried. desperate.
you were close.
mattheo could picture it too clearly: your thighs quivering, toes curling under the blanket, pillow smothering those pitiful cries as you worked your little cunt the wrong way. he could tell by the uneven rhythm of your sounds that you didn’t know how to touch yourself properly — not enough pressure, not the right speed.
sweet little thing, trying to chase something you’ve never really had.
and it ruined him.
his hips snapped forward, hard and fast, chasing his own release while he tuned himself to your needy gasps through the wall. every stroke had him gritting his teeth, growls vibrating deep in his chest.
then it happened — your whine cracked, sharp and broken.
“nooo–” you cried, soft and crushed, like a child denied candy.
his cock jolted violently.
you’d lost it. your orgasm slipped through your fingers like sand, and the sound of your frustration, your raw desperation, pushed mattheo over the edge.
with a guttural curse, he yanked himself out of the stranger, fisting his cock rough and fast over her body. he came hard, hot ropes spilling all over her stomach, but his eyes closed shut, disconnecting from reality.
not a thought for the limp body under him. not a thought for anything but you, one door away, trashing into your sheets, unsatisfied and needy.
his breathing slowed, sweat dripping down his temple, cock pulsing in his fist.
fuck.
he wanted to go in there right now, shove your hand away, and show you exactly how it’s supposed to feel.
but for tonight, he just leaned against the wall, smirking to himself in the dark, already plotting how to catch you with your guard down.
and give you what you wanted all along.
•••
his plan will work. his plan will work. his plan will work.
his plan has to work.
mattheo definitely used all his brain cells to concoct this plan — after a night out, pretend you brought someone home, and then catch your roommate in the act. it was dumbass-proof, guaranteeing there would be no major consequences if it failed.
but mattheo was still scared of that possibility.
even now, naked in all his glory, leaning over his bed in a make-shift doggy position, dragging his leaking cock across his mattress, making the headboard bounce on the wall, his mind was clouded by failure.
he has yet to hear you make some noise.
were you already sleeping? or were you too smart to fall for his trap, keeping quiet on purpose?
“shit, shit.” he pushed his hips harder into the bed, pressing his palm over his cock and creating a tighter cavern for him to rut into.
it was warm and sticky thanks to his body temperature and the creamy lube he used, but he just couldn’t get his imagination going. the stillness of your room was eating him alive.
why was he so fixated on you anyway? he could have any woman he wanted, but here he was, pretending to fuck someone in order to stir a reaction in you.
one more pass of his mushroomy tip through the fake hole and he would sto–
“ah.”
that was you.
that small gasp of pleasure hit him like a truck, making his hips twitch forward in relief and need. his cock slipped against his palm with renewed vigor, throbbing at the mere confirmation that you were masturbating.
“there she is.” he muttered with a grin, chest heaving as he thrust faster into the sticky creases of his mattress, headboard banging harder against the wall. “fucking knew you couldn’t resist, angel.”
mattheo was louder on purpose now — pressing down harder on his cock, groaning rougher, barely biting down curses that he wanted you to hear. he pressed his ear to the wall, catching every tiny whimper you tried to swallow, and then moaned into it like a pornstar on pay day.
“yeah, touch that little pussy for me.” he rasped, voice low and shameless, now no longer caring about his plan. he knew you’re attentive to his every word. he knew you’d listen well.
“bet those fingers don’t know what the fuck they’re doing… bet you’re all sloppy and messy already, hm?”
his hips jolted, cock sliding through the lube-slicked valley faster, fat tip smearing more precum into the sheets. he grunted, loud and guttural, chasing his own filthy fantasy.
you whimpered again, muffled under your pillow, and mattheo’s eyes rolled back.
“fuckkk, that’s it– don’t hide from me now, sweetheart. let me hear it. let me hear how needy you are while you pretend you’re not thinking about me.”
his free hand slapped against the wall separating you two, loud, obscene, the sound echoing through the room. he wanted you to hear how worked up he was, how unhinged he sounded with your name bubbling on his tongue.
“you hear me? i could make you cum in ten fucking seconds. you’re there rubbing your clit like a dumb little virgin while i’m here with my cock in my hand, imagining your cunt choking on me.”
your breath hitched, now hit with the confirmation you’ve long suspected — he knew what you were doing. mattheo could tell by the sudden pause in your sounds exactly what you were thinking.
this is wrong. i should stop. he is my roommate.
but his smirk only widened, cruel and delighted. he won’t allow such thoughts to dirty your mind.
“ohhh, i know you’re listening. i can fucking hear it too. you wanna see me stroke my cock, sweetheart? wanna see how hard you make me?”
his palm tightened, hips pumping his cock harder, his voice breaking into messy growls.
“say it.” he demanded suddenly, thrusting harder against the mattress like he was buried inside you already. “say you want me to fuck you, and i’ll tear this fucking wall down.”
you let out a broken whine, shaky and embarrassed. but god, it was enough to make his balls draw tight, aching to be emptied in your warm cunt. he couldn’t hold it in much longer.
“fucking hell.” mattheo groaned, hips stuttering, hand squeezing his cock as cum shamelessly spurted across his sheets. “come on… one word and i will fuck your brains out.”
and when your moans cracked, shaping babbles into his name — sweet, desperate, pungent with arousal — he laughed low and filthy, abandoning his bed at once.
“that’s my good girl.”
•••
mattheo didn’t bother knocking.
the second he heard your whimper break into his name, he was already crossing the hall, cock still half-hard, dangling between his legs. the knob of your door twisted under his hand like it had been waiting for him all along, and then–
your door creaked open.
you froze mid-motion, your blanket pulled halfway up your body, your hand stuffed between your trembling thighs. wide, wet eyes snapped up to him, glassy with shame and lust.
“ma-mattheo.” you squeaked, clutching the covers like your life depends on it, trying to hide from him.
but the tremor in your voice gave you away. you were hot. bothered. aching.
he leaned against the frame for a split second, smug grin cutting across his face as if he’d finally caught his prey.
“knew it.” he murmured, voice low and rough, like gravel and honey, already breaching into your room. “knew you touched yourself to me, angel.”
your lips parted, fumbling for denial, but nothing came out. you only stared at him with your widened pupils, eyes darting anywhere but his lower region. he took one lazy step into your room, then another, shutting the door behind him with a click that made your stomach drop.
“move the blanket.”
his tone was sharp, and you obeyed instantly, pulling the fabric down with trembling fingers. he climbed onto your bed without asking, the mattress dipping under his weight until his body was caging yours. his scent hit you — smoke, sweat, and sin — and your thighs pressed tighter together, trying to hide the big sticky patch staining your panties.
mattheo chuckled, low and wicked, eyes grazing every bit of exposed skin.
“oh, angel.” he cooed, cum-stained fingers reaching out and brushing your flushed cheek. “you’re soaked through. all for me, yeah?”
you whimpered, nodding before you could stop yourself. his hand slid down, slow and teasing, until his digits were curling around your knees, prying your legs apart. he settled between them instantly, making sure you don’t close them back, and dragged his thumbs over the damp cotton clinging to your nether lips.
the sound you made was pathetic. sweet. his cock twitched between his legs, already pulsing for more.
“fuck.” he groaned, pressing his fingers harder against your cunt, parting your lips and letting more slick stain your panties.
“virgin little pussy, dripping just from listening to me? you’re gonna ruin me, sweetheart.”
you shook your head weakly, words tumbling out broken. “i-i don’t know what i’m doing wrong…”
“shhh.” he kissed your right knee, wet lips soothing your heated skin. “that’s why i’m here. let me take care of you.”
then his hand was in your panties, pulling them off in one swift motion. after discarding them, his experienced fingers found your bare slit, gliding through the abundant slick. teasing your throbbing hole before circling your clit with a feather-light touch. you jolted from his touch, curving forward and finding shelter into his shoulder.
“so sensitive…” he purred, watching your every twitch, enjoying the way your heavy breath fanned over his skin.
“makes sense. never been touched, hm? all this time, living with me, and you’ve been keeping this sweet little cunt to yourself.”
one finger pressed inside, slow, stretching you knuckle by knuckle. you moaned like it hurt, nails involuntarily digging into his shoulder, but your hips bucked up, begging for more.
“greedy girl.” he teased, pushing deeper, curling into a spongy spot until your back arched off him, straight back into your pillows. “tight as fuck, and i’ve only got one finger in. how the hell are you gonna take my cock?”
his cock?
you shook your head frantically, babbling nonsense — half of them were pleas, half refusals. but mattheo only grinned, prodding a second finger alongside the first, scissoring your virgin cunt open while his thumb rolled over your swollen clit. better than you ever could.
the sound of your wetness filled the room shortly after, obscene and sticky, more and more of your arousal gushing out. your head was thrown back into your pillows, your hand draped over your mouth in an attempt to muffle your whimpers. mattheo’s eyes darkened, displeased with your shyness.
“no, angel. let me hear it. moan for me louder. don’t you dare hide from me.”
you didn’t have time to complain. your head tossed back more, broken cries spilling out as three fingers thrusted faster, harder, finding another spot inside you that made your thighs clamp around his wrist.
mattheo growled low in his chest, proud of your volume, absentmindedly rutting against your sheets just to relieve a bit the ache in his cock. his next load will be inside you, he shouldn’t get carried away.
“shitt, you’re gonna cum for me, aren’t you?” his lips brushed your knee again, peppering comforting kisses for a second time that night.
“gonna cum on my fingers like the dirty little virgin you are.”
at that, your walls fluttered helplessly, your body giving in and releasing all over his hand. mattheo didn’t stop there though, his fingers dragging you over the edge and helping you ride out your first orgasm.
when you finally slumped, chest heaving, body trembling and ruined, he pulled his slick fingers out and licked them clean, humming low in approval.
“sweetest fucking thing i’ve ever tasted.” he rasped, eyes locked on yours, feral and hungry. “now for the main course.”
he leaned closer, his cock now straining tall against his stomach, pressing hot into your inner thighs.
“angel…” he murmured, dipping his head lower to whisper in your ear. “i’m splitting you open on my cock.”
mattheo didn’t give you time to protest — not really. his lips brushed your temple, his voice low and certain, dripping with carnal hunger.
“you trust me, yeah?”
your breath hitched at his words, but you nodded into his shoulder. you did trust him. even if your body was trembling, even if you’d never let anyone this close before, you trusted him.
you wanted this as much as he did.
“don’t be scared.” he murmured, encouraging you one last time. “i’ll take it slow. i’ll make it feel so fucking good, sweetheart.”
your heart was hammering against your ribcage, but your thighs parted wider, your body betraying you before your voice could. he smiled briefly, dragging the fat head of his cock through your slick folds, coating himself in your wetness. the feeling of just that had your breath hitching.
then he pressed forward–
“mattheo–” your voice cracked into a whimper, nails scraping his shoulders as his cock pushed at your entrance.
you were so tight he could barely get the head in, and his jaw clenched, sweat glistening on his temple as he held himself back.
“shhh.” he soothed, dragging one hand down your bodies to rub at your clit. “that’s it. you’re doing so good. just breathe for me.”
bit by bit, he eased into you — his thick length spreading your untouched walls, your body clinging and resisting all at once. you cried out, the sting of the stretch sharp, but his hands eased into yours, intertwining your fingers and pinning them into above your head.
“good girl, that’s it! so fucking perfect for me.”
when he finally bottomed out, you sobbed at the fullness. his cock was deep, impossibly so, pressing right against your cervix and making your tummy flutter. mattheo stilled in that position, letting you adjust to the feeling, even if he so desperately wanted to pound into you like there’s no tomorrow.
“see that?” he rasped, one hand sliding down, pressing gently on your lower belly. the outline of his cock bulged under his palm, and you gasped, eyes flying wide at the added pressure.
“that’s me, right here. deep inside your tight little pussy. you’re stuffed with me, angel.”
the revelation made you moan, your cunt clenching helplessly around him in excitement.
he took that as a sign and rolled his hips into you. slowly at first — in, out, each stroke dragging against your fluttering walls, your body giving way to pleasure with every stroke. the ache melted away, replaced by a pulsing heat that made your back arch, your legs tremble around his waist.
“damn–” mattheo hissed, his control slipping as your tightness milked him. “you’re choking my cock, angel. gonna keep me buried here forever.”
your nails dug into his shoulders, your voice breaking as you moaned his name, needy, shamelessly. his pace picked up fast, hips rocking into you with more force, the bulge in your tummy pushing up every time he bottomed out.
“look at that.” he grunted, pressing down again so you could feel the thick ridge of him pounding into you. “so deep you can feel me in your stomach. you like that, don’t you?”
“yes– mattheo, yes, yes, yes–” you babbled, tears wetting your lashes from the overwhelming stretch and bliss.
you were to reach your climax soon, he could feel that in the way your body was reacting. and it was to be expected for your first time.
he fucked you through it, lips on your jaw, your throat, whispering filth into your ear to push you over the edge.
“my shy little virgin. moaning like a whore now, just for me. never gonna want anyone else after this. you’re mine.”
your body broke then, a second orgasm ripping through you with a loud, helpless cry. your walls clamped down around him, gushing slick all over his cock, and mattheo lost it too — hips stuttering, muscles tightening — before he spilled inside you with a guttural groan.
hot cum filled your cunt, so much you swore you could feel it pool deep in your belly. his cock jerked with every spurt, pushing it deeper and deeper inside.
“ah, ah–”
mattheo stayed there, buried to the hilt, forehead pressed to your shoulder as his breath came ragged. his hands dropped to your tummy, rubbing the swell where his cock and seed filled you.
he did it.
he finally had you.
“–so perfect.” he mumbled into your neck, exhausted yet fulfilled, warmth spreading through him. “knew you’d be perfect, my angel.”
summary | 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.
word count | 2.8k
yuna's voicemail | So this fic was in my drafts for more than a year and so the writing might sound weird or cringey because that was younger me hahaha. I wrote this after watching Order of the Pheonix for the first time. Don't come after me, i know it's horrible ahhhhh
The 4th year at Hogwarts had ended so abruptly, death eaters had invaded the Triwizard tournament, Cedric Diggory was almost murdered, and apparently you-know-who has returned, at least that was according to Professor Dumbledore and Harry Potter. Ever since the tournament, everything has been up in flames, but you convinced yourself that next year will be much better or at least hoped it would be. After all you were now the girlfriend of the infamous Mattheo Riddle, who decided to confess all of a sudden to you on the first day of 5th year.
OK, maybe not confess, more like an emotionally constipated mess that consisted of him calling you annoying for occupying his head 24/7 and how he liked you since 3rd year—because of that one time you punched Malfoy for calling Luna Lovegood a lunatic. You never knew violence could get the guy, but c’mon we are talking about Mattheo Riddle here, he isn’t a normal person. That goes without saying that you accepted his ‘heartfelt’ confession and begun a new era, dating Mattheo. Which leads us to this point, at the Astronomy Tower, you and your beloved boyfriend quarreling over who was the most dependent on physical touch, while him being very adamant on refusing the title of “Clingy Boyfriend.”
“Are you kidding me?” Mattheo said exasperatedly as he shakes his head chuckling, “Never have I begged for attention in my entire life! If I recall correctly, you were the one insistent on holding my hand everywhere.” You were annoyed at this point, “Never begged for attention my ass!! You interrupted my conversation with Neville just the other day!” “And all because he was what, ‘Breathing at me weirdly,’ what the hell does that even mean?!” you exclaimed while air quoting what he had said just a few days ago.
You honestly thought that Mattheo would have been more of a distant person when it came to dating, at least that is what you assumed when you watched him from the sidelines for 4 years. Oh, you could not have been more wrong, this boy is always within a few inches of you if he can help it, and his issues with being away for more than 5 minutes has been insane. If any other guy that was not him were to take up your time and attention, Mattheo would stare them down as if they had the guts to steal his most prized possession. You had no problem with this at first; on the contrary it was rather amusing. But it started to get annoying when he followed you everywhere, especially when you tried to sneak away to train defense spells with Harry and the others, which you’ve accepted you’d probably would not attend… at all… Love that for you.
Back to the present…
“What about that one time a first year gave me flowers, and you decided it was the perfect moment to snog me right then and there,” you said in an attempt to prove your case, but we all know how stubborn this man is, and no form of proof would work on him.
“I needed to show him that you’re mine. Can’t have other guys thinking you’re single,” he stated dismissively waving his hand back and forth as he adjusted himself against the wall.
You narrowed your eyes and stared at him as though he had grown a pair of heads.
“Mattheo… For the love of- He is 11! What the fuck do you mean?!” You yelled.
“Who am I kidding. I bet you wouldn’t even last a week without touching me,” you declared quite confidently as you crossed your arms. “Actually, scratch that, I’m not that cruel. You wouldn’t last a day.”
There stood Mattheo and his ego, glaring straight at you, pushing himself away from the wall as he strides towards you. “You have quite a mouth, love.” He approached you with only a few inches separating your personal bubble. “I’m up for the challenge,” he says with a lopsided grin, "of course, only on the condition that you admit that you can’t stand being away from me when I win,” he teased with a smile that sang soon-to-be-winner.
Scoffing and lightly shoving him away with one hand, “In your dreams, Riddle.” You turned away as a blush crept across your cheeks, making your way to leave the Astronomy tower.
“Prepare to lose, babe!” He exclaimed loudly from where he stood.
Walking to your common room, there was a couple of students muttering about a new rule. You couldn’t help but feel curios, so you interrupted the conversation, “Hey, what’s going on?” a young 1st year whom you’ve known to be typically quiet answered, “Professor Umbridge made another decree, we are no longer allowed to play music whilst studying.” She looked down fiddling with her sleeves, “it is not fair, I cannot focus without my songs,” she said devastatingly with a sigh.
“I don’t understand why the Ministry sent that old bag, she’s been controlling our lives since they appointed her headmistress,” your roommate standing to your left added quite dejectedly, “bet she’s going to ban the way we sleep next.”
“Y’know that doesn’t sound so bad, maybe then I wouldn’t have to tolerate your loud snoring,” you said with a smirk.
“Oh, sod off, what is it with you and the way I sleep! Honestly-“ she hmphed while crossing her arms, but then a thoughtful look grows on her face, “What if she bans romantic relationships?” she says, “the whole school would have to feel the wrath of Riddle, and that is not a future I’m looking forward to,” she adds scratching her cheek.
“It’s a possibility, I’m just glad she hasn’t enforced any rules that could isolate Mattheo, since with the whole situation and all…” you muttered in remembrance of you-know-who’s last appearance, “anyways, I’ll see you guys later, I need some rest. Matt’s been giving a bloody headache all morning…” you said with a mutter for the last part.
“You two have an intense study session up there or something?” your roommate said with a snicker and raising eyebrows, “Shut up!” you flipped her off . The 1st year stood confused with her head tilted, “how could studying be so intense, and why revise in the astronomy tower? The wind will blow the papers right of the platform, wouldn’t the library be a wiser choice?” she asks in confusion as to why anyone would think to study in such an unconventional area.
Your roommate stared right at her with a blank face, and thought to herself ‘God dammnit, I’m left with a pipsqueak!’ “Why is it desirable to study in the tower,” the child asked once more.
“Because it makes it easier to do multiplication, now get yer ass outta here before my brain combusts,” she answered hurriedly with an annoyed tone and swats her hand towards the door.
The young 1st year retreats to her dorm with a thoughtful expression, ‘The astronomy tower will enhance our ability to perform multiplication? That is immensely helpful magic, Hogwarts is certainly amazing!’
Within the chambers of your dorm house, you laid across your bed with arms sprayed on both sides. Thinking back to your conversation with your lover, the way he smirked like he won your little game, the way he whispered into your ear, the heat of his gaze, the way he-
“Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!” you yelled to yourself as you rolled back and forth across your bed, your cheeks flaring up in a bright pink that resembled peaches. That night you tried not to think about him at all, for the sake of winning this challenge between the two of you. Did you fail, oh yes. Yes, you did. Barely lasted 5 minutes before you started to dream of him by your side. At least you felt calm in your sleep, just until you could see the real him again in the morning.
The sound of obnoxious clapping had woken you from your daydream, you shook your head regaining focus. You had almost forgotten that you were in DADA class, students aligned in their seats, with a look of boredom and dissatisfaction plaguing their faces. A student behind you sighed and whispered to his desk mate, “what’s the point of defense against dark arts, if we won’t even practice the spells.” His desk mate replied, “we’ll just have to bore them to death with the book index,” he snickered.
You smiled about yourself at their conversation, “Speaking without permission is prohibited in class!” Professor Umbridge spat, “Another act like that and you will be sent to detention,” she adds with an eerie smile across her face. The duo sat straight feeling intimidated and apologized, you were sick of how Hogwarts has changed ever since her arrival, it created a pit of needles in your stomach just watching the wretched woman talk.
As you thought to yourself, you felt a hand move atop your thigh as the feeling of a calloused thumb graze across your skin. You look up from your page and see Mattheo with his head leaning in his hand with a disinterested look on his face. He yawns for a moment and gazes to the side, making eye contact with you. He raised an eyebrow with a wolfish grin, the look on his face told you that he was planning to tease you throughout class. You whispered in a very hushed tone, “Focus Mattheo, otherwise you’ll fail the exams,” he stared back unimpressed, “Princess, be serious with me, you’re not actually learning anything from this shit-show,” he replied quietly with his head turned to your ear.
You peeled his hand off your thigh and set it on his lap, “Hands to yourself, Riddle. Unless you want to admit defeat,” you whispered back with your eyelashes waving at him. He grumbled some incoherent words—something about a stupid bet and stubborn girlfriends— as he crossed his arms over the desk and pretended to focus on whatever Professor Umbridge decided to blab about this time.
You weren’t entirely happy with this bet, you enjoyed the physical attention Mattheo gave you, though you were too stubborn to admit it now, and he wasn’t any different. In the hopes of your boyfriend giving up soon, you push on through the day despite the painful absence of his touch.
The time for lunch had finally arrived, hungry students crowding the entrance of the Great Hall. You decided to sit beside Luna that day, due to not fully trusting yourself that you wouldn’t lay a finger on Mattheo. Luna had brought up another discussion of nargles and their love for jellies, you hadn’t been completely focused as your gaze was owned by Mattheo as he lightly shoves the food in his plate. It seemed that Draco was trying to gain his attention on a subject, but Mattheo’s gaze remained downwards with an expression that read bored and uninterested in anything that wasn’t the poor tatters of meat on his plate.
“Are you listening?” Luna asked.
“Huh? Oh, sorry Luna. Guess I lost focus there,” you muttered an apology as you tried to remember whatever Luna had last mentioned about the Nargles.
“It is quite alright. It must be Wrackspurts fogging your mind again, you should get them cleaned,” she said dreamily.
You blinked in slight confusion but chuckled at the thought of what these creatures would like, “I certainly hope there aren’t any Wrackspurts,” you said as you continued with your meal.
“Did you know that Wrackspurts invade the minds of the lovesick,” she said matter-a-fact.
“Is that right? Well,” taking a sip of pumpkin juice before continuing, ”I can assure you, Luna, I am not lovesick,” you said while flattening the fabric on your lap.
“Very well, but if you wish to check for Wrackspurts, you can visit my dorm for a proper cleaning,” she offered, standing from her spot.
You stood from your seat at the table and intertwined your arm with Luna. As you made your way to leave the Great Hall you took one more glance at Mattheo, that was when you saw him stare piercingly, eyes following your every movement since you left from your spot. Before you avoided his gaze, you decided to stick your tongue out at him in a petty attempt to annoy him, then leave the hall.
He groans and lies his head on edge of the table; Theodore takes notice in his friend’s misery. “What’s up with you?” He asked in an uninterested tone as he ate his meal.
“None of your damn business, Nott,” Mattheo says in a begrudged tone.
“Bet it has to do with your little girlfriend. I haven’t seen you snog her once this morning.” Draco adds smugly.
“What part of ‘none of your business’ did you lot not understand?” he says annoyed, lifting his head from the table. Mattheo retreated from the table, not taking another second with a group that would find enjoyment in his touch-less tragedy.
The rest of your day went on as expected, class after class, revising in the library, and ending the day off with dinner in the Great Hall. To you displeasure, Mattheo was nowhere to be seen, not with his buddies on the Slytherin’s table nor anywhere near you. It might have just been his way to deal with this entire bet; his annoyance from the lack of you was quite painstakingly obvious, which sent a wave of pride through your heart, only you could have such a hold over Mattheo Riddle.
But to think no more of him, you ate away at your mashers and chicken before heading back to the dorms for rest. Though, you weren’t prepared for what was to be enacted in the morning.
Ruckus and overlapping mutters were what drew you in as the new morning came, another day, another will to live as they say. Well, maybe not for Mattheo anymore. The striking newly created decree on the wall was hung up just to bother Riddle’s existence.
Boys & girls are not permitted to be within six inches of each another.
The big full-stop at the end punctuated that there was certainly no room for discussion on this new rule. Not when Umbridge was here. So, how did Mattheo handle all this, you might ask?
“Fuck my life…” Banging his head against the desk, Draco beside him looking rather unimpressed at how a simple rule could get Mattheo so dejected. It wasn’t very in touch with who he was to let a stupid decree by a lady in clashing pink, but Matt had tried so many times to even lightly caress you, and for every single time, somehow Umbridge was there with a wand in hand ready to sting his touch away.
He hated it. Despised it. And was ready to go to war with that woman if it meant he could hold you again. Mattheo figured Umbridge was targeting him in some way, ever since she started her days at Hogwarts, she had kept Riddle under her radar. In class, during lunch, and even checking the attendance of Gryffindors and Slytherins every night. It was utterly suffocating and he could no longer take another second with her in office.
Therefore, the only possible way for your sneaky lover to ever meet his darling Juliet, he would need to sneak out during unholy hours. Could you believe he’d do something like that? Why yes. Though once you find out about this entire plan, you would feel bad for Theodore and Lorenzo for duping the teachers.
It was one past midnight when you received an owl at your door, a little paper that read ‘meet me at the tower.’ Only Mattheo would dare to break you out of the dorms at this time, you thought to yourself. As he wished, you escaped to the tallest tower in Hogwarts, and as expected a shadow of a lover greeted you. This would have been the best time to rub his little game like salt in his wounds, teasing him about how a rule that practically banned him from touching you must have been absolute hell. You couldn’t wait to hear his defiant excuses. I mean, that was what you imagined would happen.
Before long, Mattheo met you in the center of the tower before you could reach him. Treading towards you in long steps until untimely claiming your lips in a burning seal. His hands wandered without destination on your body, clenching to your beautiful self like it had been months if not years since he last caressed your figure. His bold greeting took an extra few seconds for you to render, by then you joined and played back with your tongue against his. Nothing else could matter more than your being in Mattheo’s grasp. Tonight was a mark to Riddle’s pride; he was not made for days without your warmth and touch. He craved it like a moth to a flame, and he would rather burn than to be void of it for any longer.
For once in his life, he just might help Potter out to drive that pink hag away.
Going no contact with your ex!Mattheo, isn’t just hard. It’s a slow, daily kind of torture—there’s no clean escape from him, no tidy distance. Every morning, like clockwork, he’s there in the Great Hall, a living reminder you can’t outrun. His presence has become something you orbit around without meaning to, adjusting your path, your timing, your breathing just to avoid seeing him. For a month now, avoidance has been a habit.
And it works. Mostly.
Until it doesn’t.
As the night arrives the castle settles into a hush, the distant echoes of footsteps and laughter long faded into stone. You’re already in bed, curled beneath your covers with a book open in your hands. The only light in the room comes from a few scented candles flickering on your bedside table, their glow soft and wavering, like they might disappear if you look too closely.
Then, a knock.
It’s so faint you almost think you imagined it. A hesitant, uneven sound, like whoever made it was just passing by, accidentally knocking on your door. But something in you tells you this wasn’t a mistake. You cross the room before you can talk yourself out of it, fingers tightening slightly around the handle before you pull the door open.
And there he is.
Mattheo.
The sight of him hits like a crack of thunder in a still sky. His nose is bleeding, crimson smeared messily across his upper lip, and his knuckles are split open, skin torn and raw. There’s a wildness about him, something unsteady, like he’s been running on nothing but adrenaline and something far more dangerous.
Your stomach drops.
He’s breathing hard, chest rising and falling as he drags a hand across his mouth, smearing the blood further instead of wiping it away. His eyes find yours immediately, and whatever fire carried him here flickers into something softer. Something exposed.
He beat the shit out of Cormac. His mocking words making Mattheo boil in rage, saying he’ll have sex with you at the party next week, laughing at him, tossing your name like a challenge. But it wasn’t jealousy that made Mattheo swing. Not the simple, selfish kind. It was something deeper, sharper. The thought of someone reducing you to just sex, of looking at you and seeing anything less than everything you are, had burned through him like a fuse. You weren’t just someone to him. You were everything. Always has been. You were the brightest mind he knew. The gentlest soul. The one person who made the world feel… right. He couldn’t stand the idea of anyone else not seeing you like that.
So here he is. On your doorstep. Broken skin, shaking breath, and all the words he doesn’t know how to say lodged somewhere behind his ribs. “I’m sorry,” he manages, voice rough, breath catching between syllables. “I didn’t—”
“I don’t want to hear it.” Your words cut through him cleanly.
For a second, he just stands there. Then his gaze drops, shoulders pulling in slightly, like he’s bracing for something heavier. It hits him then, the reality of it. That things aren’t the same. That he doesn’t get to stand here and expect you to patch him up, to soften, to forgive, just because he showed up hurt. Still, some foolish, stubborn part of him had hoped. He nods once, quick, almost automatic, already stepping back as if to leave before you can change your mind. Before he overstays whatever fragile boundary you’ve drawn. “I’ll just clean them up,” you add, your tone clipped, controlled. “And then you’re out of here.”
And your voice shifts. Softer. Quieter.
“—Get in.”
It’s barely more than a breath, but it stops him mid-turn. There’s a pause, a heartbeat stretched thin between you. Then you step back, giving him space to enter.
And just like that, the distance you’ve spent a month building fractures.
mattheo riddle who never ever smokes around you because you hate the smell. instead, he keeps his smoking for late nights with theodore on the astonomy tower. mattheo riddle who wakes up feeling a little rush of dopamine when he sees you sleeping next to him and he’s never felt so happy to see someone. mattheo riddle who starts a fight with any guy who (god forbid) dares to try and ask you out. mattheo riddle who claims to hate the cheesy romcoms you make him watch with you but he secretly starts liking them a little bit more and more each time. mattheo riddle who always helps you out with your charms, dada and transfiguration homework. mattheo riddle who despite whatever others might think, is never ever mean to you. he’s always listening and trying to give you the love he was never shown. mattheo riddle who beats himself up after you guys argue because he wishes he didn’t raise his voice at you and start slamming things around. mattheo riddle whom you love with all your heart and soul, just as he loves you ♡(˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶)
