The Fact That This Was Posted On My Birthday Is A Blessing.

the fact that this was posted on my birthday is a blessing.

HIDE AND SEEK | mattheo riddle

summary; you and mattheo play a little game on hallowe’en.

word count; 9058

notes; don’t forget to check out the sister fic to this one by @azrielscrown, we did a lil joint thing, and you can see me making some cameos if you wanna hang out 😉 we’ve been keeping this lil secret for WEEKS and I’m so happy we can finally share it with you all <3

“Sit still, will you?” Your giggle echoed off of the stone walls in Mattheo’s bathroom. He scoffed, shuffling between his feet once again. 

“S’not my fault it tickles! I don’t know how you girls do this every day, don’t the brushes make you want to sneeze?” His nose scrunched up as he spoke, but he let you continue to set the wet paint around his face with powder. His eyes focused on you, you could feel the stare as you observed the photograph he was holding up, a cut-out piece of a magazine. “You’re pretty when you’re focused.”

“And you’re distracting me,” You switched brushes, slapping at his hand as his fingers began to tease at your thigh. Returning it to its place on the counter beside your thigh, he shuffled between your legs impatiently once again, and pouted. “I can’t do your makeup like that. Smooth your face out.”

“Kiss.”

“Mattheo—”

“Kiss!” He repeated, and the smile you wore was against your control as you leaned in, pecking his lips softly, doing your best not to smudge the makeup you’d already applied around the centre of his face. It was too short and chaste for his liking, that much was clear when you pulled away as he licked at your lower lip, a whine coming from him as he chased you forward, only to be foiled by a chuckle, and a hand on his chest.

“I’m not redoing this for you if you make a mess of it! I don’t have time, I still have to get ready myself. Party starts in less than an hour, you know.”

“I know.” Mattheo grouched, smoothing his features out as you ran a thumb over his lips, refocusing on painting the skeletal features onto his face. “Y’know, you still haven’t told me what your costume is going to be.”

“You’d know if you’d gone for a couples costume with me. Stop moving your mouth.”

“That’s not fair!” He cringed and the brush slipped right into his mouth, leaving a streak of wet paint across his tongue, and you raised your brows. “I had to go with the boys, I couldn't be the only one who didn’t join in!”

“I’m messing with you, honey. Now, stop talking.” He merely grumbled behind closed lips, but his eyes were sparkling. He remained still and quiet, letting you paint the final pieces of his makeup around his mouth, stretching the creepy, toothy grin across his cheeks. Plucking the picture from his fingers and holding it up, you glanced a few times between it and your boyfriend, shrugging with a sigh. “That’s as good as it’s gonna’ get.”

Standing straight and moving to the mirror, his jaw dropped a little, hand rising but fingers never quite touching his face, tipping his head side to side to observe it. “Damn, baby, this is better than just ‘good’, it’s great!”

“Yeah? Good enough for your little boy’s night scare fest?”

“Don’t call it that, but yes.” Reaching for his hand, you tugged him back toward you, standing him before you and shaking the bottle in your hand. “What’s that?”

“Special setting spray. Close your eyes.” He did as told, eyes closing as you unpopped the lid. “I warn you, it may take some serious scrubbing after this to get the paint off, might leave some stains.”

“Wait, what—” You sprayed it across his face, and a choked sound between a gag and a cough left him as you covered his skin in a thick layer of the spray. Flapping your hand over his face to help his glistening skin dry, his frown deepened, hands reaching for you blindly, and gripping your hips. “I feel like my eyelids just got glued shut.”

“You’re so dramatic.” He cracked his eyes back open, several blinks and a few funny faces to adjust the stiffness, before he was tapping lightly at his skin, fingers pulling away clean. “You should still be careful with it, but it should hold. Just don’t… rub your face, or get any drinks thrown at it by scared party-goers.”

“Always ruining my fun.” Mattheo’s wistful sigh had you laughing once again, slipping down from the counter and slipping your hands under the edge of his baggy shirt. Lifting it up carefully and guarding his face, he raised his arms up, helping to slip off the shirt without disturbing the makeup on his face, leaving it heaped next to the paints and brushes on the counter. “Always helping me out.”

“Yes, well, someone’s got to keep your hopeless arse out of bother.” You leaned in, placing a kiss on his chest. “What does the rest of this group costume consist of?”

“Suits. Not sure whose choice that was, probably Dray’s one condition on joining in.” Pretty brown eyes rolled at his friend, even if his lips were raised in a wide smile. “I’ll get ready, and then we can go to your dorm and get you all ready before meeting the rest?”

“I’ll go start getting ready now, while you do. Save some time.” He only hummed, your heart skipping a single beat as the first deception of the night passed seamlessly through your lips. 

“Alright, I’ll pick you up in fifteen minutes.”

You only nodded, pecking his lips delicately one more time, before slipping from his arms, out of his dorm and into the corridors. Your feet were moving fast, like a sprint through the halls towards your own dorm. Fifteen minutes was barely enough time to grab the things you need and escape from the Slytherin dorms without your boyfriend seeing you. You dragged out the bag you’d already packed from under your bed, and the pre-written note you’d hidden in your bedside drawer. 

His name was written neatly across the front, and you flipped it open, double-checking the message inside. In perfect, neat cursive;

‘Find me before midnight xo’

Folding it back up and propping it on the bed where you knew he’d see it, you eyed it for a second. Putting down your bag and rooting through, you gave your lips a half-hearted swipe of red lipstick, blotting them for a second before pressing a kiss to the note over his name, a single clue to start the game, before returning it to its spot. 

With that, you were off, leaving your dorm unlocked and enchanted, for his entry and his entry alone.

The common room was packed with groups gathered, ready to leave for the Weasley twins’ party, making it easy for you to blend in and disappear. The halls were just as busy, decorated and overflowing with chatter, the castle ghosts crowding and gathering happily to add to the atmosphere. 

Everyone else seemed to be heading down and out, leaving you as one of the few people heading up, to the prefect’s bathroom on the fifth floor. It was empty as you arrived, the sound of your bag hitting the floor creating an echo to bounce off of the walls. 

Tugging on your costume only took minutes, stashing your clothes back in the bag and leaving it open as you fished through for your makeup kit. It was as you were leaning across the sink, one eye closed as you swept eyeliner into a sharp point in one corner that the door crashed open once again. Jess stumbled through it, arms full of whatever costume the Weasley boys had forced upon her, and you stood straight up, trying not to blink and smear the wet liner before it dried. 

“Pushing it late, huh? Party starts in fifteen minutes!”

“Don't remind me…” Jess shucked off her robes, dumping the cloak on top of your empty bag, and beginning to undo the buttons of her shirt as you turned back to the mirror once again. 

When you were satisfied with your makeup, two sharp wings on either side and red lips to match your dress, you gave a happy nod to your reflection. With a few minutes to spare and a bottle of nail polish waiting to be used, you hopped up onto the sink. Costume now donned, Jess was lacing up heeled boots that reached all the way to her thighs. 

“Are you trying to scare the masses, or seduce them?” With only a sly smirk of her own in return, Jess made her way to the mirror beside yours, plucking the red lipstick from your makeup bag. 

“I’m supposed to be a bloodthirsty sorceress,” Popping the cap, she applied a coat. “Know any men who wouldn't mind having their hearts ripped out?”

“A few. The boys will be in skull makeup tonight, so aim for them first.” Your legs swung as you chuckled at her statement, focused on the brush moving across your nails. You wondered just how many of the boys were ready, and what Mattheo was doing right now. Surely, he’d already be on the hunt. “Save the curly one for me, though.”

Jess only beamed in response. “You’ve sent Riddle out on that wild goose chase yours, then?” 

You shrugged, ever the picture of easiness as you blew on your wet nails to dry them. “He’s got until midnight to find me.”

Excited knots twisted at your stomach with the mere thought, the thrill of the cat-and-mouse chase. It would likely drive Mattheo insane, knowing you were toying with him as he searched. “What happens when the clock strikes twelve?” 

“Let's just say, that I’m fully prepared to live up to my house name, and let him slither in.”

Zipping your makeup bag up with the nail polish inside, you packed all of the clothes into your bag, stashing it behind one of the sinks. “At least one of us is having fun tonight.”

Oh, that was no doubt. You weren’t sure ‘fun’ was even a fair word to use, knowing that the way you were riling your boyfriend up was more like a first-class ticket to seeing Heaven. “Who says you can’t? You may owe Fred a favour, but that doesn’t mean you can’t cause a little trouble.”

Jess shared a devious smile, sliding a gold mask into place as you slipped your own red one on to match, “I like the way you think.”

Placing the final part of your costume onto your head, the small horns on the headband complete your ‘devil’ look, and you hopped down to join her.

With your arm linked through your friend’s, the two of you set off. At the pathway marked as the beginning of the no-doubt terrifying journey ahead, Jess split off, a wink in your direction as you blew a kiss in hers, wishing her luck on the night of haunting ahead, mind set on your own task. 

Mattheo had told you where the boys all planned to meet, leaving you plenty of time to slip into the throng of people and disappear into the masses. Your plan: to remain hidden in plain sight.

Weaving through the crowds, eyes scanning over every person there, it wasn’t long until you spotted your boyfriend. Leaning against the trunk of a tree, flanked by only Enzo and Draco so far, he was already searching for you amongst the hordes. You followed closely behind a group, slipping into their ranks seamlessly, as Mattheo’s focus moved across you, flickering over the group and dismissing them quickly as strangers. A spark of excitement shot along your spine. 

Just like that, you were walking straight past him. Your cover merely being that of standing among people you didn’t even know meant letting him look right through you like fog in the early morning. 

Slipping inside one of the hidden walkways, darkness encased you, hiding you from view as all the horrors and thrills Fred and George had managed to create took place. 

Actors in costumes, enchantments to create realistic scenes, and laughter poured from your lips as much as screams did, your heart was pounding as you cleared the tunnel minutes later.

Surrounding the clearing on all sides were various attractions. How they’d managed to pull all this together, you had no idea, but the twins never failed to impress you. Several hexed bonfires filled the clearing, a hazy setting washing over your skin from that very first sniff of woody smoke pulled into your lungs. 

A haunted hayride, pulled along no doubt by the thestrals that Luna seemed so fond of took off on your right, a speakeasy-style building to the left, a haunted house with screams filling the chill night air right before you. Bobbing for apples, a spooky corn maze with moving scarecrows, everything that would send chills down your spine. 

Mattheo and the boys would likely catch up any moment, more visitors pouring in around where you’d paused at the end of the tunnel to admire, so you spurred yourself into action. The night couldn't end just yet, you still had hours of fun ahead of you. 

Angling yourself towards the speakeasy first, you stepped through the door, the subtle smell of gin and perfumed musk washing over your senses as you stepped up to the twisted staircase, flickering lights disappearing into darkness before your very eyes. 

Down, down, down, you moved. Swallowed whole by the shadows, your shaky laughter would doubtless have clouded your breath with the sudden chill that took you over, so dark for a moment you couldn't even see your hand before your face. Then, just as your hand skimmed towards your wand for a Lumos spell, a curtain swept aside, a couple stumbling out between fits of tipsy giggles, guiding you with flashes of coloured lights and the beat of unconfined music. 

The moment you were inside, all silencing spells wore off, blinding lights flashed across the dance floor, with the music that was pounding through the room so deep the base travelled up your legs. The floor was packed, everybody dancing to their heart’s content, and those who weren’t were gathered around small tables for card games, or crowding the bar. 

It wasn’t long until you located a group of your friends, some with their dates, some solo, and you were quickly immersed under the cover of the group. The beat had your eyes slipping closed, rhythm flowing through you as your body swayed. A drink was pressed into your hand by a friend, the fruity taste coating your tongue and leaving your body in a numb haze. 

You had to say, you were impressed by the effort the twins had gone to. Despite the student-body having only found out about this party a few weeks ago, you knew for them to have pulled this off, they’d have to have been planning since Valentine’s Day. Songs passed by in a blur of dancing and more drinks, a shot came soon, so spicy your eyes watered and throat stung, only soothed by the lime you were handed to follow. 

Wiping a stray droplet of juice from under your lip as you pulled the slice away, you almost missed the flash of skull makeup and blond hair in your peripheral. Draco was on the dance floor, making his way across, a smirk on his lips as a hand with manicured nails reached out to clasp his tie, trying to tug him into a dance. 

You didn’t have to search for long to find the face you knew so well, the one you’d painted yourself only a couple of hours prior, also on the dance floor. Hands reached for him too, trying to pull him this way and that, but he wasn’t stopped. No, he was searching. Looking at every face with your hair colour, checking under masks and turning dancers around despite their protests, just to rule them out from the game. 

And he was heading right for you. 

Spinning away from him, you ducked across towards a friend, her arms looping around your body as you neared, none the wiser to the game you were playing, and the distraction she provided. Swaying your body with her own, you pushed your lips close to her ear, watching Mattheo over her shoulder. “I need another drink, you want one?”

She only shook her head, released you near the back of the group and let herself get swept back up, as you were hidden away behind the crowd, sneaking towards the bar. 

Padma and her sister were serving quickly, wands in hand as they floated several cups through the air all at once. Slices of fruit and cubes of ice drop, tinkling into plastic cups ready for them to fill.

Flagging down one of the twins, a shaky breath of pure excitement leaves you, as you turn your focus back to your boyfriend. He looks like he’d been having fun. A little dishevelled, the top buttons of his shirt undone and his tie loosened, smudges of dirt and glitter on his clothes from wherever he and his boys had been playing, scaring unsuspecting patrons and gathering screams. 

His hair was no longer the neat style he’d doubtless have gelled it into, the stands messy from running his fingers through it, and curls beginning to form in the heat of the bar. A single curl fell across his forehead, brushing through the paint, and your fingers itched to brush it out of his eyes, like always. 

He’d reached the group now, searching idly in the area you’d been occupying, not finding you where you’d once been, chasing only steps behind and having no idea. 

The visible frustration he wore gave you a cocky smile, a rush of pride filing you up, watching as he made to move on, to more fruitless endeavours.

Then, a hand shot out. 

A hand in a black lace glove, attached to a girl in a full-body leather jumpsuit, hugging every inch of her body, the little cat ears you knew well. A member of your former dance group, poking up into the air. Pulling him to a stop, he bowed his head, lips moving and a conversation you couldn't hear taking place, and his head snapped up in your direction. 

For a second, your breath caught, swearing he almost looked right at you as he scanned his gaze over the bar. Someone had told him you’d been there, that you’d headed for the bar, and he filled with renewed vigour, eyes twinkling with mischief even from this distance. 

Motioning to Draco— who now had the rest of the owner of that manicured hand wrapped around him— to head to the bar, he moved like a man whom wild horses wouldn't be able to stop. The crowd parted around him as he moved, leaving nobody in his wake, not until he was right up to the bar at the other end. He motioned for one of the twins to take his order. 

Padma finally arrives to take your drink request, your order only adding to the floating display over their heads, and the display is utterly mesmerising. Much like the floating candles in the Grand Hall, light shimmers and reflects through every drink and piece of glass, light bursting out across the room. 

Following one trail of light, you spot Jess entering the bar, followed quickly in tow by someone in matching skull makeup, this one with shaggy blonde hair, his eyes locked on her like she’s the only girl in the room. You quirk a brow, sealing that little piece of information away for later.

You’re so caught up with your people-watching that you almost forget the game afoot, that Mattheo is so close, until the rough grate of his voice only a few seats down breaks you from your reverie. Snapping your eyes to him, he’s leaning on one arm, back to you as his focus scans out across the crowd. Somewhere on the dance floor is Enzo, you’re sure, and Draco has his lips on the neck of his mystery girl, completely ignoring Mattheo’s summons to the bar. You know where Theo’s interests lay, and you’re not sure where Pansy and Blaise will have snuck off too, likely some dark corner where they won’t be seen.

Your boyfriend was the only one in the group not dancing tonight, something that had you smirking. Swiping up your drink and bringing the straw to your lips, you admired his jawline as he stretched his head, once again searching. That was until a girl in a tight black dress and black feathered angel wings made her way over to him, clearing her throat lightly to bring back his attention as he continued the hunt. 

“Hi, Mattheo. Over here all alone, why aren’t you out there—”

“I have a girlfriend.” His curt response was flat and bored, and you almost snorted some of your drink trying not to laugh. Her expression wavered, a pout forming on her lips as she tried again, undeterred, reaching out to take the end of his tie between two fingers. 

“I don’t see her.”

Smoothing his hand down his front to remove his tie from her hold, he scoffed, shaking his head; “Neither do I, that’s the damn problem.”

This time, you were too slow in holding back your laughter, the sound bursting from you against your control. You hoped the music would cover it, but Mattheo heard it, whipping his head around in your direction, as he began to analyse every person at your end of the bar. 

Taking your drink and quickly ducking behind a man dressed as the Phantom at the Opera, you ducked and dove between people, daring a look back at the bar to see Mattheo stood where you had once been, looking amongst the people, but thankfully, not in your current direction. 

Glancing around for some quick cover, you spotted Jess, making your way over to her and watching as the boy she was with parted with a lingering kiss to her cheek. She clocked your approach, a wide smile bursting free on her lips, and her hands reached for you, tugging you into a dance with her as soon as you were near enough. 

“I take it Riddle hasn’t found you yet?”

“No, but he’s close.” You have to shout over the music, tipping your head in the direction you last saw him. She glances over your shoulder toward the bar, where her dance partner seems to have found himself too, along with the others.

“Gettin’ colder, he and Draco are heading toward the exit.” Spinning you around smoothly, a smirk pulled on your lips. A determined-looking Mattheo began to chase a cold lead, the unsuspecting girl who did look rather like you from behind leading him off-course. 

Twisting back to face her, your brow hitched up as the mystery man began to make his return, two new drinks in hand. “Is that Theodore Nott you’re flirting with?”

“Maybe, maybe not.” It was her turn to smirk, shrugging and brushing her hair from her shoulders. “He doesn't know it’s me, though, so if he asks you, you have no idea who I am tonight.”

“My lips are sealed.”

With a final wink, you slipped away, knowing she’d only be alone for a second before your boyfriend’s best friend was all over her once again. Following in the direction Mattheo had just left, you reentered the dark halls. The glow of his and Draco’s wands ahead, that and their murmured chatter bouncing from the walls, was your pin-point to follow through the new maze of tunnels. 

Too busy looking ahead, he had no idea you were right behind him. 

Hands reached out, faces flashing before your eyes as actors and other fear-mongers stalked the dark tunnels, and if it wasn’t for your boyfriend’s light ahead, you’d have screamed and given yourself away a long time ago. When you reached the central clearing once again, it was even busier than it had been before, you emerged not long after the boys, from a hidden alcove between the cornfield maze and a stand selling hot cider. 

Mattheo and Draco were gone, disappearing faster into the masses than you could comprehend, likely to find more of their little group, and you grabbed a cider, digging a galleon out of your pocket and tossing it into the collection jar, before taking a stroll around the maze. It was in there that you found Pansy and Blaise, hidden away in a darkened corner, just as you suspected. 

Both had swollen lips and glossy eyes when you cleared your throat at them, grinning at the blush spreading across your friend’s pale cheeks, as Blaise only smirked. 

“Ah, well, look who it is.” He mused, covering Pansy as she attempted to adjust her costume once again, and your laughter wasn’t lost on her, only getting flipped off as she tried to pull the corset top back up over her bra. “By your absence of lover boy, I take it Mattheo hasn’t found you yet?”

“So, he’s told you about the little game I’ve laid out, has he?”

“Oh, absolutely. We have a little bet going. By all means, keep this up, you have me winning. I bet he wouldn't find you at all.” Your head tipped to the side, a little sip of your hot cider as you considered his words, before Pansy was snatching it from your hand, sniffling it, and taking a gulp. 

“You bet against him?”

“Of course, look at you. Over halfway through the night and he still hasn’t found you. Pansy, on the other hand…” He teased, and she smacked at his arm. You gasped.

“Pans, you bet against me? And to think, I was sharing my drink with you.” Snatching it back, she pouted, but shrugged.

“Hey, nothing against you. He just had better odds, he’s recruited everyone to help him find you!”

“And a marvellous job you’re all doing of that. Tell me, did you find me hiding behind Blaise’s tonsils?” Her cheeks went red again, along with a burst of deep laughter from the other culprit that had him clutching his stomach. She shushed him quickly, despite the silencing spells cast over the maze for an added air of creepiness. 

“Well, here you are, are you not?”

“Sure.” You rolled your eyes fondly, stepping away from the pair. “I’ll let you get back to your intense searching. Don’t tell Matty you saw me!”

And with that, you slipped back into the darkness, the bushes around you rustling and creaking as they changed with every step you took. It wasn’t until you’d successfully given up, growing bored as the chill of mist rose goosebumps on your skin that the hexed forestry finally freed you, a pathway clearing and opening up ahead of you to release you back to the party. 

Seeking the moon in the sky, you found it not long until midnight, Blaise had told no lie, your game coming closer and closer to the end, where you would be crowned the winner. Taking a seat before the fireplace, you settle in to watch the flames, and peer around to spot your hunter. 

There. It only took a second to find him but there he was, a little clearing across the way, leaning against some haybales with a blunt balanced between two fingers. Bringing it back to his lips, he took a drag, smoke filtering out into the cold air and obscuring his face, before passing the roll to Draco. 

When the smoke cleared, his eyes locked on your own. 

Just a second. A moment across the field, so far away, but he knew. Your breath hitched, his back straightened. Then he was moving, without even warning the rest of the group, he was taking long strides across the field, closing the distance between you both, and adrenaline surged through your system as you shot to your feet. 

Your closest building was the haunted house, his eyes narrowing, a silent warning when a smile curved on your lips, already knowing your next move. 

You bolted, a giggle breaking free as the true chase began, and he called your name, the sound lost amongst the chatter and amusement of everyone else gathered around. Slipping through the hoards of people, you stumbled through the front door, watching as Mattheo rounded the porch, trying to snake his way through to catch up. 

A kaleidoscope of colours, screams and shouts and music, different rooms with every theme as you were ushered through in a rush, the whole attraction feeling like a fever dream as you searched for the exit. The game was reaching its peak, midnight neared, the moon called it into the sky, and being so close to the last moments, you were determined to win. 

Stumbling out into the cold night air once again, you headed for the tree-line, secluded enough that you could lean on the thick trunk of an old oak. You watched the entrance to the haunted house, a red-painted lip caught between your teeth, eager for him to emerge in your wake.

You waited. 

Waited.

Seconds ticking by, and the thunderous race of your heart in the moment finally began to slow. Gasping breaths became softer pants, calling to you the silence of the world around you when blood was no longer pumping in your ears. 

A twig snapped behind you, and before you could turn to acknowledge the sound, a hand was sealing over your mouth, an arm banded around your waist, dragging you back into the darkness. 

Spun around in their arms, your panic lasted barely a second, before soft lips were pressing firmly to your own, the familiar smell of cigarette smoke and woodsy cologne filling your senses. Your arms came up, gripping him just as tightly as he walked you backwards, pressing you to a tree as he left a dozen kisses on your lips, longing and loving after hours apart.

“You’re a little minx, do you know that?”

“Actually, I’m a little devil.” You snickered, hands on his chest to push him back enough to look down at your outfit, motioning to the horns still on your head. “See?”

“I see it, baby. I have to say, I love this costume.” His hand fell to your thigh, callouses scraping across soft skin until he found the short hem, tugging and twisting the flowing skirt around his fingers. “I’ve been searching every girl for red lipstick all night, thanks to your little clue. Should have known you’d be decked out in all red, too. Standing out, right there, the whole time.”

His mouth descended upon your own once again, a happy sound rumbling in the back of his throat as you kissed back just as eagerly, one hand sliding up into his hair. His hand squeezed at your thigh, slipping back down as far as your knee, only to hike your leg up around his hip, shocking you into a gasp.

“I’ve been running around all night trying to find you, and you were right under my nose the whole time, weren’t you?”

His kisses descended to your neck, a shaky sound slipping free as his teeth teased a spot on your jaw that made you tremble, gripping tighter to his suit for stability. Your breath was shaky as you spoke, desperate to reclaim some power, despite the way he was undoing you already, “What, you didn’t like my little game?”

“Oh, I loved your little game, baby. But, I think I just won. It’s a few minutes to midnight.” Licking a stripe across the underside of your jaw, you mewled, head tipping back against the tree, hips bucking up to meet his own, and he grunted. “What’s my prize?”

His gaze came back up, dark and challenging and sultry as he stared down at you, smirking. Licking across one red lip, his attention focused there, his own lips parting, getting closer, needy for another taste. “The second part of the costume, of course.”

Gripping his wrist and sliding it up and under your skirt, his fingertips smoothed over the lace of your panties. He didn’t hold back his groan, gripping your ass tightly in his hand and tugging you forward to rub against him once again. “Red, I assume?”

“Smart boy.”

“My dorm?” He whispered, forehead falling to your own, a needy sound your only form of reply as your hips rolled together, friction dragging and sparking heat across your body. 

“What, you want to leave the party already?”

Your teasing words weren’t appreciated if the squeeze to your rear was any indication. “Game is over, don’t play with me anymore, my love. I need you, now.”

“Then let's go.”

The two of you stumbled along, barely keeping your hand to yourself as you hurried back through the woods, avoiding the crowds and teasing whistles of your friends by taking a more covert route instead. You certainly weren’t the only ones with the same thoughts, various couples were dotted through the woods, wandering hands and desperate kisses exchanged behind the trees and throughout the branches. 

His hand was tight around yours, tugging you along with his pace, but when he stopped short, you almost crashed straight into his back. Following his line of sight, you huffed, pushing him with a hand on his back to get his feet moving again. 

“Is that Theo over there, zipping his pants back up? Who’s he out here with?”

“You want gossip, or you want sex, Matt?” His body jolted at the insinuation, feet stumbling over one another as he picked the pace again. Guiding the two of you through one of the tunnels he had likely discovered during his night of scaring, the two of you paced back through the speakeasy. 

Up the haunted stairs. 

Through the woods. 

Along the halls.

Past the common room.

And then, he was backing you up against his dorm door, fingers fumbling with the lock, pressing frenzied kisses to your lips as he slid the mask off of your face and threw it to the floor. 

"You taste like cinnamon and wine." Mattheo moaned, practically sucking the taste of mulled cider from your tongue as you ground against his clothes cock. 

"You taste like cigarettes and whiskey." Your words are bitten off as he nips on your lower lip, a whine spilling from you as his hand snakes back up your skirt, toying with the lace of your panties again. Hooking his fingers into the waistband, he snapped them against your hip. The sting of the elastic on your flesh made you gasp, and he only chuckled into your mouth in response. 

“Godric knows, you’ve been driving me crazy tonight, baby, thinking about these red lips, lookin’ for them everywhere. Now I want to see what that red looks like around the base of my cock.”

Your fingers trailed across the front of his body, shaky fingers undoing the buttons of his shirt, tugging it more and more until it hung open, only his tie in the way as you peppered his chest with open-mouthed kisses. A moan spilled from his throat, his head tipping back, and he yanked at the tie, throwing it to the floor, quickly joined by his shirt and blazer until his torso was bare and exposed to your ministrations. 

Your hands gripped his hips, spinning his body with your own until his back was to the wood instead. Mattheo only smirked, eyes half-lidded as he watched you, your red lipstick already smeared across his mouth, printed on his chest, his own makeup smudged to match. 

One heavy hand found your shoulder, pressing you down, until you were on your knees before him, tugging at his belt as he lifted his hips from the door. His arrogance only grew, lifting one hand to comb through your tangled hair as you struggled with his trousers, pulling at them until they were halfway down his thighs. His cock sprung free, a hiss on his lips as the cold air of the dorm met his flushed skin. 

Gathering your hair up and out of your face, he gripped it in a bunch behind your head, not pushing or pulling, just waiting as you peered up at him, licking over one kiss-bitten lip. His other hand fell to your cheek, smudging streaks of black and white facepaint as he went, tracing his thumb across your lower lip. 

“You’re so beautiful, my love,”

Your smile made his thumb fall to your chin, a single squeeze, before he was retracting his hand, and manoeuvring your head towards his cock. Slipping the tip past your lips, a shudder passed over his body, his thighs clenching under your hands as your nails dug into his flesh, and his head ‘thumped’ on the wood of the door as it fell back. 

“Salazar fuckin’ save me,” He panted, slipping further and further, his grip in your hair tightening with every inch, until he was tapping the back of your throat, your gag buzzing along his flesh in a way that made his hips buck. “Love your pretty little mouth. Make it so good for me, baby.”

Smiling as best you could with every inch of his cock slipping into your mouth, his hand tightening in your hair, pulling back just enough to let you take a breath before his hips were bucking again. This time, as he sank back into your mouth, your lips tightened around him, sucking suddenly, and his broken moan bounced off the walls of his dorm. 

Again, and again, he was pushing you further, until you were comfortably taking him deep into your throat, tears lining your eyes, threatening to spill over your cheeks in a way you knew he loved to see. “Fuck, you’re so good down for me,”

Tracing your tongue around the head of his cock, you took control, sinking down against him and dragging your tongue along his cock, feeling the throb of that prominent vein. You moaned against him, and his body tensed at the feeling, making you pull back, just enough to have him gasping as the pleasure was ripped away. 

You kissed at his hip, nipping his hip bones where they pressed to his skin, and a babbling mess of your name was all you got as he panted, flushed skin rising and falling. 

Your hand took over, pumping his spit-slick shaft slowly, dragging up until his hips were following your hand with a pathetic groan. He finally had enough, enough of your teasing as you caught your breath, his head tipping back forward against his shoulders and blissed-out eyes narrowing on you. 

“Tongue out for me, pretty girl.”

Your stomach flipped at his words, at the gravel in his tone, the way he yanked your hair back to control you as you opened your mouth, tongue falling out as he’d asked. 

His cocky smile grew as you grinned back at him. Guiding his cock back to your mouth, he let the weight of it sit on your tongue, rubbing softly, pre-cum leaking and the taste of him made your thighs clench together. 

He didn’t miss the action, not at all, his hips thrusting lazily in and out of your mouth as he gave you a nod. Sealing your lips back around him, you moved enthusiastically once again, bobbing up and down along his cock, wringing every bit of pleasure from him that you possibly could. 

“So fucking good, baby, just like that. You like sucking my cock, huh? Always so eager for my cum in your mouth.” Pulling back, his cock fell free of your lips, spit tainted with red lipstick and pre-cum connected his tip to your lips, and he gathered it on his fingers. That same hand cupped your cheek, smearing it across your skin, “Not today though. Today, all my cum is going in that pretty pussy of yours.”

Kissing across his abs as you rose to your feet, his mouth was slamming onto your own. Tongue plunging in, your moan was lost to his lips as he worked at your clothes too, tugging at your dress, horned headband falling to the floor as he yanked the garment over your head. 

Kicking off his trousers and stripping himself the rest of the way, he panted, eyes wide, admiring the lace set you’d donned for his eyes only tonight. “You’ve been wearing this all night, and you let me chase you ‘round for hours?”

His hands skimmed over your body, almost reverent with the lightness of his touch, tracing the corset top that hugged your chest, pushing your tits up to the perfect fullness. The panties with their tiny straps, sitting perfectly on your hips, across your cheeks to make your arse look round and shapely, the strings and ribbons that had his mouth watering as he stared in awe. “You like it?”

He only growled, a flash of cold travelling across his eyes as you fuelled the carnal desire boiling within him. He was moving in a flash, sitting on the edge of the bed and bending you sideways across his lap, his wet cock prodding your stomach as you gasped at his manhandling. His hand smoothed over your flesh, across the seam of your panties, chuckling at the wetness he found on the material, and swirling at your clit. “How many times, huh? How many times did I almost get to you, but you escaped me?”

“Th-Three.” Your mind was foggy, hazy as pleasure began to take over. Your eyes fluttered shut as you hung limply across his thighs, core clenching around nothing. He hadn't even touched you properly yet, and you were already falling apart for him. Your gut was tightening, hips rocking and pressing back onto his fingers as you neared that peak, the excitement and electricity of the night had had you worked up for hours now, all moving toward this. 

“Three times. Three times you ruined my victory, so I think three times, I’ll ruin yours.”

His words had barely even registered in your mind when his touch left you, a cry of protest being cut shut by a sharp slap across your ass, your body jerking forward at the force, and pleasure zipped through you, despite your denied orgasm. “Damn it, Matty…”

“That’s what you get, baby.”

You pushed yourself up, shaky hands, putting on your best pout as you turned to face him. He only mimicked the expression, mocking you. Tugging you in instead, he licked his way into your mouth, filthy, panting kisses taking over as he made sure to ruin whatever was left of your makeup. You adjusted yourself across his body, settling down to sit against one thigh, nipping on his bottom lip and rocking your hips. 

Slow, so slow, you moved over him, feeling the muscle of his thigh tense up underneath you, his hands roaming your body, distracted and oblivious of the pleasure you were taking for yourself as that fiery pleasure rekindled once again. He reached for the back of the corset, tugging at the hoops, undoing them roughly until it was falling to the floor and he was catching one nipple between his lips. 

“Oh, fuck, Mattheo…” You whispered, arching closer to him, pushing your chest further into his face as he teased his teeth across the taut bud. A sob left your lips, fingers carding through his hair, tugging at the roots to convey words that were melting to nothing on the top of your tongue.

His arm caught around your waist, tugging you closer into his body, making it harder for you to move as you tried to squirm in his lap. His breathy laugh spread over the skin of your chest as he littered it with hickies, switching to the other side and leaving one wet, perky nipple cool in the air of the room.

“Matt, please!”

“Please, what? What do you want, my love?” When he was satisfied with the havoc he was wreaking on your body, his attention moved to your neck. Your arms around his shoulders, head tossed back, panting and whining as you ground against his thigh. “You wanna’ come, baby?”

“Y-Yeah.” The feeling was burning through your veins, taking you over, your eyes rolling back as your pussy throbbed. 

He pulled you in, a finger and thumb on your chin to guide your face back to his own, lips brushing. “Too bad.”

He gripped you once again, both arms holding you steady, unable to chase any kind of pleasure, as he kissed your neck, his smirk on your skin showing he knew just what he was doing. 

“Thought you’d get away with that, didn’t you? I’m not even going to count that one.” Tugging your panties to the side, two fingers sank into you, and your back arched into his body as he touched you at last. “You can’t win at my game. My little loser, huh? What a shame.”

You were shaking atop him, the feeling of his fingers, the curl and the pump he knew so well. Mattheo could read your body like a map, he knew just what you needed, just how to touch you, and he was using that to his advantage. Two fingers became three, stretching you out deliciously and yet it still wasn’t enough. You collapsed against his body, desperate to come, moaning like a whore and forever on the edge as he toyed with you. 

Your forehead was pressed to his, crying his name, begging against his mouth as he licked at your lip, tipping his head up to catch you for a kiss. When he pulled away this time, you could feel the tears in your eyes, nails digging into his skin, pleading with sounds that no longer resembled words. 

You could feel his frustration; every time he’d almost found you, every dead-end, every narrow escape.

A sick, twisted part of you was loving every second of this delicious torture, and you found yourself face down in the sheets, panties around your thighs and his cock slamming into you, so hard that a scream ripped through you. 

“Shh, you can take it, my little demon. I know you can.”

“I can, Matty. I can take it. I can take more.” You wanted it, you wanted it bad, spurring him on. Your hands scratched in the covers, legs spreading even further, body rocking with every deep thrust he gave you. His kisses travelled over your spine as your tears smeared mascara and eyeliner into the sheets. His body smothered you, one hand coming around to clasp your own, love shining through in his actions even as he ruined you, took you apart until your mind was shattered. 

You’d be wrecked in the morning, you’d surely be unable to walk, sore legs and trembling limbs, you’d have to spend half the morning just recovering from the way he was fucking you now. Brutal, fast, slamming in and out and making you sure your eyes would never come back from how far they were rolled into your head. 

Nerves were lighting up, electricity shooting along every cell of your body as his slick skin slid against yours, one hand in your hair, tugging your head back as his lips brushed your ears. 

“Wish you could see yourself, pretty girl. Wish you could see what I see. Shaking, dripping, my cock sliding in and out of this pussy like you were made for me.” He slowed his pace, for just a second, and you keened back into him, chasing the pleasure that was already building once again, even if you knew it would be fruitless. 

You may have lost the ability for sentient thought, but his count was ringing in your head, only two of three failed orgasms served. Your body tensed with a shudder, the anticipation lingering in the air like a sword over your head.

“You really do belong in the pits of hell, don’t you? Look what you do to me.” His teeth grazed over your shoulder, biting down on your skin enough to make you cry out his name, bucking against his touch as he soothed the bite with gentle licks. “There’s nothin’ angelic about you, you’re nothin’ but a sinner.”

His name spilled from your lips, again and again, like you were begging for redemption. 

“You’re on your knees, but you’re praying to me.”

His hand snaked around your body, finding your swollen clit and brushing his fingertips across it, pitching the bud harshly between his fingers. “Matt—”

“You want to come?”

“Yes!” 

“What a shame.” He slipped himself out of your cunt, spewed curses in anger leaving your wobbling lips, more tears spilling over as he took away the last part of your dignity. 

Twisting your entangled bodies, he guided you until your back met the bed sheets, pushing you up as he crawled over you. Hooking his fingers into the edges of those panties and pulling them away, he spread himself over you. 

He barely gave you time to recover, the stimulation all too much, as he lifted your legs to hook them over his shoulders plunge his cock back into the sopping heat of your cunt. 

This may have been his game, but when his forehead came to rest on your own, hands frantically bunching in the sheets beside your body, you knew the last round had begun. The ball was in your court, his own need displayed clearly on his face as he rutted into you desperately. His rhythm was lost, sloppy and out of control, and you squeezed yourself around his cock. 

You pressed sweet kisses to his lips, tempting him over the edge with a drag of your teeth across his lip, a lap of your tongue, and he was done for.

Finally, your peak crashed over you. Waves and waves, blinding pleasure that left you with silent, open-mouthed screams. Twitching underneath him, your fingers tore down his back, your legs snapped against his hips, holding him to your body as white-hot bliss drowned you. 

He only needed a few more thrusts, your back arching and his name a chant, enough profanities to scar anybody passing by as the lewd sounds of your movements covered your moans. He came with a groan, thrusting through until the sound tapered off into a whimper, his own unsteady body collapsed down on top of you. Dragging breaths into his lungs to recover as his sweaty body covered you, you hooked your arms around him, hugging him close, unwilling for him to move even a fraction.

You felt numb, the aftershocks of pleasure racing through your body, still twitching and shaking despite his weight on top of you. Freeing one hand, he smoothed it up your body, dragging from your thigh to your ribs, stroking softly in soothing motions, as his lips gave delicate pecks, shushing every lingering whimper that escaped. 

You reciprocated the action, raising one hand to land in his hair, fingers brushing through sweaty curls, as his cheek found your shoulder. 

“That… was some of the best sex we’ve ever had.” Your words were still breathless, and he laughed lightly, nodding against you where he lay. 

His skin was littered with lipstick, smudges of his facepaint on every part of your body, painted with love and lust everywhere you’d touched one another. The night was still heavy on your skin, the festivities outside still raging even if your night had come to an end. 

Maybe minutes had passed, maybe hours, but eventually, Mattheo dragged himself up, pulling himself free from your body, and smirking down at every mark he’d left on your skin. With unbalanced steps, he wandered away to the bathroom of his dorm, the squeak of the taps and the splash of water in the basin signalling the running of a bath. 

He offered you a hand as he returned, pulling you to your feet, the two of you wobbling your way through to the bathroom and taking stock of your mess as the water ran. Elixirs and salts, the fresh smell of jasmine and honey filled the air, and then you were sinking in, leaning back against Mattheo’s body as the two of you revelled in the hot water. 

His hand looped around your body, fingers lacing with yours and resting on your stomach, as his chin hooked over your shoulder. For a while, the two of you remained just like that, chasing the cold of the night from your bones and merely enjoying one another’s company.

“Tell me, was that your little friend— the one who was ripping out hearts for the Weasel-twins— that I saw running from Nott in the woods, this evening?”

“Oh, Matty,” You chuckled, turning to press a kiss to the underside of his jaw. “You have no idea the games she’s been playing tonight.”

He only grinned, head resting on the edge of the tub. “I fear those two together, they’ll rip each other’s hearts out.”

“Maybe so,” You mused, his fingers dragging along your ribs, and you shuddered happily. “Or maybe, they just found their perfect match together.”

“Just like I found you.” He whispered, lips brushing along your cheekbone, and you scoffed. 

“You’re so cheesy.”

“It was your game!”

Your hum echoed off of the walls. “Don’t tell Theo. I want to see how it plays out.”

“What, and ruin the surprise? I would never.” He smirked, “Besides, Theo didn’t help me find you, let him search for a while.”

Holding onto his forearm banded around your waist, your fingers traced up and down, before his hand caught yours, holding tight and weaving fingers your together. 

“I love you, but don’t you ever run from me again. There is not a place on this earth you could hide that I wouldn't find you. I’d search forever.”

“You know,” You whispered, turning in his arms to sit across his lap, and he made a happy sound, face tipping up to brush his lips on your own. “That sounds vaguely threatening. You’re a little bit fucked up.”

“That’s because it is a threat, and a promise. Besides, you’re a little bit fucked up too, because I know you love it.”

You couldn't deny it, only able to snicker in response instead, and press a firm kiss to his lips, which he was happy to return. “I love you too, Matty. Now, let’s try and scrub off all this makeup, hm?”

not a want, a need

chicken noodle soup.

pairing: mattheo riddle x reader

song inspiration: is it really so strange? by the smiths

author's note: just a soft fluffy comfort fic cause i've been thinking about matty lately and i needed cheering up after the end of kwaf. let's all laugh at the fact that i set a 1k limit on this fic only to fail miserably lmao 😭

Mattheo Riddle was not a fan of Mondays. 

Most of the time, Mattheo spent the first day of the week nursing a hangover and getting higher than a hippogriff at the Astronomy Tower with his friends to achieve equilibrium. The only thing he looked forward to every week was the prospect of riling you up in class. To be fair, it didn’t take much to get under your skin. Being himself seemed to do the trick. 

As he walked through the castle halls, Mattheo smiled to himself as he plotted out all the different ways he could provoke you on this dreadful day. For some sick and twisted reason, he reveled in the fact that only he could manage to rouse such a violent reaction out of you. There was something satisfying about the way your eyes blazed, your rosy cheeks tinged with heat as you told him off.

Maybe he'd flirt with you today. Tell you how good you looked in your short little skirt. Watch as you turned as red as the tie around your neck. His pretty little Gryffindor good girl. In Mattheo's mind, you were his to tease and taunt.

With his usual swagger, Mattheo sauntered into Advanced Transfiguration fully prepared to test out his new tactics on his nemesis, but you were nowhere to be found. 

At first, he figured that you were just running late. Throughout the duration of your rivalry, Mattheo had never once witnessed you skip class. He would’ve bet his entire cigarette supply that you’ve had perfect attendance since first year. When Professor McGonagall started the lesson and you were still missing in action, Mattheo was understandably concerned. 

The uneasy feeling in his stomach didn’t mean that he was worried about you though. This was purely about mutual benefit. Mattheo couldn’t very well have his Transfigurations partner skipping out on lessons. Even though he regularly did so himself. But still, that was different. Everyone knew he was a delinquent. You, on the other hand, were anything but. Until today, you’ve probably never missed a class in your life. 

Mattheo waited. Surprisingly, the two of you had the majority of your classes together. All of which dragged more than usual since you weren’t there to yell at him for dicking around. When you still hadn't turned up for Charms or Herbology, he became convinced that something was horribly wrong. Missing one lesson was alarming, but three in a row? That was entirely out of character for you. 

When Professor Sprout finally dismissed the class, Mattheo sauntered over to Granger’s desk. As always, she was surrounded by her two dimwit friends who immediately tensed the second he loomed near. Potter and Weasley shot him matching menacing glares, but Mattheo ignored them entirely. 

“Granger,” he drawled, leaning against the wooden desk. “Care to tell me where my partner’s been all day?” 

The Gryffindor girl appeared a bit perturbed by the question. “Why do you want to know where Y/N is?” 

Mattheo sighed in exasperation and produced the set of notes he’d taken during class. A first for him. He couldn’t remember the last time he actually listened to an entire lesson, let alone take notes, but he knew that you would have a million questions for him when you returned. The notes were his way of saving himself from your relentless interrogation. 

“Figured the little know-it-all would want my notes.” 

“Y/N is feeling a bit under the weather,” Hermione said cautiously. “I can take the notes to her if you’d like.” 

“No.” Mattheo declared rather suddenly. He cleared his throat and attempted to smooth over the sharp response. “No, McGonagall tasked me with it. I don’t want her docking points from my house when she finds out that you did my dirty work for me.”

Hermione raised a brow. “Sure.” The quirk of her mouth told Mattheo that she wasn’t convinced by his excuse. “Well, Y/N is resting up in the tower if you fancy a visit.” 

After a quick detour to the kitchens, Mattheo made his way over to Gryffindor tower. It was surprisingly easy to gain access to the lion’s den. He simply threatened a third year to let him in and got on with it. They truly needed to upgrade their security measures. One glare was all it took for Creevey to crumble and cave. 

With a satisfied smirk, Mattheo walked past the gaudy common room. For Salazar's sake, hadn't the Gryffindors ever heard of subtlety? The decor consisted solely of crimson and gold and the furnishings looked like something out of that muggle show his nan loved to watch—Antiques Roadshow. Antique was right. The worn out couch that he passed looked older than him.

Merlin, now he was starting to sound like Malfoy. Mattheo hurried along before he caught the urge to fold origami notes and chuck it at Potter's head. Fortunately for him, the place was devoid of the Chosen One or anyone for that matter.

By now, his fellow classmates were all in the Great Hall eating dinner, which he was thankful for. It was no secret that Mattheo’s presence wouldn’t be welcome here and he wasn’t really in the mood to fight his way through the Gryffindors just to deliver a note from the kindness of his black heart. Thank Salazar that there wasn’t a single soul in the tower to bicker with. Until he reached your dorm, of course. 

The relationship between the two of you was volatile to say the least. Despite Mattheo’s reputation, you weren’t shy about telling him off. When you were first assigned as partners, Mattheo had fully intended to let you do all the work while he skipped class to smoke, but he quickly realized that this would not be the case. You hunted him down at his hideout in the Astronomy Tower and discovered him blissfully sharing some premium grade mirthroot with Theo and Draco. When you found him, you were so angry that you dragged him by the ear all the way to the library, much to the amusement of his friends. Needless to say, Mattheo never missed a study session again. 

In a way, Mattheo admired you for it. Aside from his friends, everyone in the castle feared him. It was sort of refreshing to have someone call him out on his shit. Especially if that someone was a funny, feisty, ferocious Gryffindor who he enjoyed pestering every chance that he got. Mattheo always did have a penchant for girls with an attitude problem. 

Even as he knocked on your door, the Slytherin boy couldn’t help but chuckle to himself when he heard you grumbling from the other side. 

“Oh, for Godric’s fucking sake, what is it now?” 

The door swung open, revealing a very pissed off Y/N. Clad in striped pajamas and fuzzy bunny slippers, you placed a hand on your hip and frowned. Even in the throes of sickness, you still somehow managed to inject venom in your glare. Mattheo grinned like an idiot. 

“Nice slippers, princess.” 

You huffed, crossing your arms. “What do you want, Riddle?” 

“To make sure my partner doesn’t slack.” He waved his set of notes around. “Don’t think your sickness excuses you from studying.”

“This is payback for making you revise with me after you fell off your broom and broke your arm, isn’t it?” 

Mattheo cringed as he recalled the quidditch accident that sent him to the infirmary for a week. In true Y/N fashion, you were sitting by his bedside with a stack of books in your lap the second he woke up. Madam Pomfrey hadn't even put his arm in a sling yet before you were drilling him on proper spell enunciation and wand movements.

“You terrorized the infirmary with your mnemonics,” Mattheo said with a dramatic sigh. “It’s my turn now. This is sweet revenge, Y/N.” 

You squinted at his barely legible handwriting. “I’m just surprised you took your head out of your arse long enough to take notes.” 

“Glad to see that illness hasn’t lessened your bite. If anything, those teeth seem a little sharper than usual.” He leaned against the doorframe and smiled down at you. “Feeling a bit feral, princess?” 

“Why don’t you come a little closer and find out?” you quipped, baring your teeth at the aggravating boy. 

The gesture appeared intimidating for a full second until you sniffled and launched into a coughing fit, which made Mattheo frown. 

“Are you alright?” 

“Of course I am. I regularly cough my lungs out on nosy Slytherins whose sole purpose of existence is to make my life a living hell.”

He pressed the back of his hand against your forehead. The way his brow furrowed strangely resembled concern. Mattheo trained his chocolate brown eyes on you, examining the rosiness of your cheeks and the slight pinch of discomfort in your features.

"You're burning up." Mattheo's hand dropped from your forehead to the side of your neck. He pressed his fingers against your pulse point, feeling the erratic beating of your heart underneath his touch. It was strangely intimate. "You have an elevated heart rate."

You flushed and swatted his hand away. "Well, yes. That usually happens when one is ill."

"Come on, you should sit down."

"Don't tell me what to do, Riddle."

Mattheo rolled his eyes before dragging you by the elbow. Your protests fell on deaf ears as he barged his way into your dorm and walked you over to the bed. You watched as he pulled up a chair next to you before rifling through the contents of his backpack. Out of the sordid mess of his belongings, Mattheo produced a small container of soup. With a flick of his wand, he conjured a spoon. 

“Here, have some of this. It should help.”

As soon as he pried the lid open, the heavenly smell of chicken noodle soup filled your senses. Mattheo scooped up an equal amount of soup and noodle and blew on it to cool it down before tilting it towards you. The sight of him offering you food like you were some helpless toddler was only slightly insulting. You swore to Godric that if Mattheo started making airplane sounds, you’d strangle the bloody twat.

 “I can feed myself, you know.” 

“Just eat the damn soup, Y/N.” 

You rolled your eyes in return, but obliged nonetheless. Despite the source, you could never resist comfort food.

“Chicken noodle soup?” 

As soon as you tasted it, you knew that it wasn’t just soup. It was your favorite soup. The very same one that Winky made every third Wednesday of the month. You knew because you looked forward to it every time. It was even marked on your calendar. That’s how much you liked it. 

Mattheo nodded absentmindedly. “Yeah, I know it’s your favorite so I bribed Winky to make some.” 

You furrowed your brows in confusion. “How do you know it’s my favorite?” 

For once in his life, Mattheo looked utterly uncomfortable. He averted his gaze and busied himself by stirring through the carrots and celery. “You, uh, mentioned it in class once.” 

You couldn’t help but smile. Maybe it was the fever talking, but you thought that was sweet. “You remembered that?” 

Mattheo looked up, a stray curl kissing the tops of his cheekbones as he met your gaze. The shy smile on his face was alarmingly endearing. Sometimes when you looked at those angelic curls and stupid big, brown eyes, you forgot that you were supposed to loathe him. “Of course. It’s my favorite too.” 

You chuckled, sniffling a little. “It’s like a hug in a cup, right?” 

The curly headed boy nodded. “It totally is.” 

After you finished the soup, you expected Mattheo to take his leave. Instead, he inspected the vials of potions laying out on your night stand. He read through every label, frowning a little. 

“You should really have some pepperup potion in here.” Mattheo remarked as he arranged the vials one by one. “Are you sure this dose is potent enough? Maybe you should ask them to brew something stronger.” 

“Pomfrey prescribed them herself. No offense, but I think I’ll take her years of healing experience over your expert opinion.” Mattheo gasped rather dramatically, which made you chuckle. “As much as I appreciate the notes and the soup, I don't think it's wise for you to stick around. I’m feeling a bit better, but I might still be contagious.” 

Mattheo shrugged. “It’s alright, I’m not scared of a little cold. Besides, I still have to go over the Transfiguration assignment with you.” 

“Aren’t you worried that I’ll get you sick?” 

“Not really,” he said, waving off your concern. “I know you’re going to pester me about everything you missed in class, so I figured I’d kill two birds with one stone.” 

To your surprise, Mattheo’s notes were extremely detailed.  It was a bit hard to read given his boyish scrawl, but with a little help in translation, you were making great progress in becoming fluent in Riddle. The more Mattheo explained the concepts and ideas that were discussed in each class, the more baffled you were. You've always known that he was smarter than he let on, but this was borderline impressive.

“How do you know all of that?” 

“I asked.”

“You asked?” Mattheo stared blankly at your surprised expression. “You never ask questions in class.” 

“I never had to since you're always there interrogating the professor like the little know-it-all that you are. Thanks to your absence, I had to fill your role in class today.”

You grinned. It grew wider and wider, spreading until your cheeks hurt. Mattheo glared at your joyous expression. “What? What’s that shit eating little grin for?” 

“You missed me.”

Color flooded Mattheo’s cheeks. You were surprised to find how well crimson suited him. It was almost the exact shade of your house colors. “Don’t be ridiculous—”

“Riddle, you asked questions in class. You took notes for me. You brought me chicken noodle soup." Mattheo flushed as you pointed out the obvious. "You totally missed me.” 

“If you tell anyone, I’ll hex you.” 

“Admit it, Mattheo. Your day was utterly dull without me.” 

Mattheo rolled his eyes, sighing in defeat. “Fine, you’ve got me. I was bored out of my mind without you around. How else am I supposed to pass the time if you’re not there for me to argue with?” 

“There’s plenty of other people in the castle that you could bicker with.”

“Yeah, but they’re not you.” 

He seemed a little shocked by his own statement, but he didn't try to retract it. In fact, Mattheo almost seemed resigned to it.

“Careful, Riddle. It almost sounds like you have a crush on me.” 

“I’d have to be a bloody idiot to fall for a girl who absolutely despises me.” 

“That wasn’t a denial, you know.” 

He pinched the bridge of his nose like the very idea of it vexed him, but you caught the little smile he hid beneath his fingers. Mattheo snatched the notes from your hands. “Focus on the lesson, will you?” He grimaced as soon as the words left his mouth. “I can’t believe I’ve just said that. Look at what you’re doing to me, Y/N.” 

“You’ll live, Riddle.” You poked a section of his notes that you hadn’t quite deciphered. “Now what in the bloody hell is the Gobstopper Ruffian?” 

“The Goblin Rebellion. Merlin, my handwriting isn't that bad.” 

“Are you kidding? A kindergartner writes more legibly than this.” 

The hours passed while you bickered and bantered. You hated to admit it, but you missed arguing with him too. Laying in bed all day had you positively bored, but yet time passed within the blink of an eye as you went back and forth with Mattheo. Somewhere between discussing the possibility of Longbottom running an underground exotic plant ring and arguing over the best Smiths song, the sun had set over the horizon. Mattheo rubbed his eyes and yawned. 

“You look knackered, Riddle,” you teased, patting the spot beside you. “Do you want to lie down for a bit?”

Chocolate brown eyes widened at you. “Lie down? With you? On your bed?” 

“Yes, that’s typically how people do it.” You smirked as he shot you an apprehensive look. “Unless you’re too scared.”’

Never one to back down from a challenge, Mattheo lifted the covers and gestured for you to make room. “Scoot over, then.” 

The jest seemed to have backfired on you because now Mattheo was crawling into bed and making himself completely at home. All the apprehension from earlier melted as he pulled you against him, his chest pressed against your back as he nuzzled into the crook of your shoulder. You stifled a giggle as Mattheo released a satisfied little sigh. 

Mattheo wrapped his arms around you until you were covered in the scent of amber, cinnamon, and leather. You never expected to unearth the fact that Mattheo Riddle was a great cuddler, but yet here you were, reaping the benefits of this newfound revelation. He slipped his fingers through yours and nuzzled closer. 

"Who would've known that Mattheo Riddle was such a great cuddler?"

"If you tell anyone—"

"You'll hex me. Put a curse on my family. Set my possessions on fire. Yes, I know, Riddle. You keep threatening me, but you never follow through. I'm starting to think that you're losing your touch."

Mattheo squeezed your hip before twining your legs together. "I wouldn't test me, Y/N. You're in a very vulnerable position right now."

You chuckled as he scooted even closer. "Maybe, but you won't do anything."

"Why's that, princess?"

"You like me too much," you retorted, chuckling as Mattheo buried his face in your hair. "One day without me and you're already a needy mess."

"You infuriate me," Mattheo whispered against your ear. "But you're also the best part of my day. I couldn't imagine fighting with anyone else but you, my dear nemesis."

"I totally loathe you, Mattheo Riddle."

He chuckled as you snuggled into him. "I loathe you too, Y/N Y/L/N."

The irony of the statement contrasted with how tangled up you were wasn't lost on you. For two people who supposedly hated each other, cuddling with your enemy had never felt so right. The steady beat of Mattheo's heart lulled you towards sleep. You were slowly succumbing to its hypnotic lullaby until Mattheo's voice broke through the silence.

“Y/N?” He murmured against your hair.

You shifted, your eyes feeling heavy as his warmth enveloped you. “Hmm?” 

Mattheo’s voice was low and gravelly, flowing like honey in your ears. “This is nice.” 

You smiled against the pillow, staring at your intertwined fingers. “Better than chicken noodle soup?” 

You felt him grin against your skin before he leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss on your temple. “Way better than soup.” 

TAGLIST

@annaisabookworm @bubybubsters @criesinlies @niktwazny303 @therealallisonspear @athenalikethegoddess @clairesjointshurt @vixzwrites @elle4404

him.

Mickey Henry ─── Sebastian Stan

Monday (2020)

Pure bliss.

sunshine and ducks | m.r x reader

prompt: was wondering if it’s possible for me to request a Slytherin reader who doesn’t typically go out with guys at hogwarts since she’s got high standards and Mattheo gets dared to try to get a date out of her, leading to them liking each other but maybe there’s like some twist where they both have been writing back and forth in an anonymous journal they found and they eventually plan to meet and they’re shocked it’s them or something?

an: I took a little artistic liberty, so its basically the prompt but with my own twist

warnings: fluff, mention of parental death

Word count: 4.6k

Mattheo shook his head, “There’s no way.” Theo grinned at his friend, “No way because you know you could never do it, could never get the job done.” Mattheo set his fork down, glaring across the table, “That’s not what I mean.” 

“What’s not what you mean?” Blaise and Enzo joined the two at the Slytherin table, packing food onto their plates before morning classes. “Theodore, here, dared me to ask y/n out on a date.” 

Enzo snorted, “Y/n? Like Y/n Y/l/n? Good bloody luck with that, mate.” 

“Thank you,” Mattheo turned back to Theo, a smirk on his face, “Y/n doesn’t date. I don’t even think I’ve seen her go out with anyone in the entire seven years we’ve been here.” 

Blaise nodded in agreement, “Yeah, her standards are way too high, especially for you lot.” Theo and Enzo looked like they’d been wounded, but Mattheo looked intrigued, “What do you mean ‘especially for you lot’, I’m sure I’m exactly what y/n’s type would be.” 

Theo perked up, “So are you accepting the dare?” He held his hand out, ready to shake it, quickly letting out a hiss as Mattheo smacked it away. “I’ll think about it,” Mattheo gave his answer for the moment, reaching into his pocket and pulling out what looked like folded parchment. 

Pansy snatched the parchment from his grasp as she sat next to him, Draco on her other side. “Still playing with this, Matty?” Pansy went to open it before Mattheo grabbed it back, “Leave me alone, Pansy. It’s none of your business.” She sighed, rolling her eyes and looking to Draco, “Will you please tell your cousin that it’s a little pathetic to write back and forth to a mystery girl on enchanted parchment like we’re third years?” 

Draco shrugged his shoulders, mouth full of sausage as he spoke, “Don’t ‘ive a fuck who ‘e ‘alks to, Pans.” Pansy pouted, crossing her arms. Theo, however, took this information and ran with it, “You’re still talking to mystery woman? I thought you gave that up weeks ago. Is that why you’re not taking my bet? You’re waiting on parchment Patty to confess her love to yo-” Theo was cut off by the sausage that was thrown at his face by Mattheo. 

Mattheo got up front the bench, grabbing his bag and the parchment, “I’ll see you guys in class.” 

His first class of the day was ancient runes, a peaceful moment in the morning where none of his friends were. Much to everyone’s surprise he usually got there early, just to have some time to himself. He also looked at it as a good excuse to be late to nearly all of his other classes, since he spent extra time in his first.

When he got to his table, he pulled out the parchment, a grin spreading across his face when he noticed writing was already on it. He found the parchment in the library about two months ago. It was left on a table that he and a girl he convinced to tutor him sat. At first it just appeared like free parchment, until he opened it one morning seeing your scrawl across the page asking if anyone had found it yet. 

There had been an agreement made between the two of you to not reveal your name or any major identifiers. Mattheo was actually thankful to have someone to talk to that didn’t know who he was. As confident as he displays, it was nice to be able to talk to someone without fear of being judged simply because of who his father was. 

It had become customary to write each other in the morning, doing a little check in. Over the last two months you two had built a connection, entrusting each other with information you hadn’t even told your friends.

Any advice on how to get through Divination at 830am?

Mattheo laughed to himself, you were a saint for suffering through Trelawny’s ramblings so early.

Make something up, say you saw a werewolf in your crystal ball, see what she says he wrote back. 

He watched as your response appeared in front of him, Good thinking, Duck. I’ll just tell the crazy woman I see a predator in my future, that’ll get her off my back

He could tell she was being sarcastic You’re right, Sunshine, best keep quiet and just survive the morning

Professor Babbling walked in, causing Mattheo to stash the parchment in his bag again. He sat through class, surprisingly distracted. His thoughts drifted back to breakfast this morning and Theo’s dare. It couldn’t possibly be that hard to get you to go on a date with him, sure you seemed stingy with the guys, but Mattheo couldn’t blame you. 

The pickings were slim, but he knew he was attractive. If he were going to get you to go on a date with him, he had to take a different approach than normal. He couldn’t do lingering looks and winks across the room like he usually did with other girls. He had to be straightforward. 

That’s why when lunch came around Mattheo told his friends he would talk to them later and found you sitting at the end of the table, like always. You had your mix of friends, but it was known you often ate meals alone.

Some people thought it was because you were stuck up, the rumors about you having high standards had been swirling around since you denied golden boy Potter in year four. He had asked you to the Yule Ball, being a Triwizard Champion people were shocked you denied him. You had no interest in being paraded around like arm candy, especially by a Gryffindor. 

When Mattheo sat down across from you, you didn’t even look up from your meal. You at first assumed some first year was scared or nervous from a different part of the table and came to sat by a singular person, being in Slytherin could be intimidating. When Mattheo cleared his throat you finally looked up from your plate. 

You stared at him, eyes piercing directly into his, and suddenly he felt himself get nervous. You stared at each other for a moment before you spoke, “Can I help you with something Mattheo?”

That caught him off guard, “You, erm, know my name?” You laughed lightly at this, “You, sir, are Mattheo Riddle. Heir to the Dark Lord’s throne.” Your tone was teasing, “Everyone knows you.”

“Well I know you, too, Y/n Y/l/n.” You raised your eyebrows at this, “Do you now? What exactly do you think you know besides my name?” 

Mattheo was nervous again, “I uh, I know you like to eat alone.” 

“And yet here you sit.” 

Mattheo let out a low chuckle, “Right, erm, I was, uh, I’ve been watching you.” You snorted, “That’s not creepy at all.” 

“No! I mean, I’ve, erm, seen you around. I mean, we’ve gone to school together for seven years. We’re in the same house, it’s hard not to notice you.” Mattheo was grinning now. He was actually kind of cute, nervous like this, “Do you know anything about me that a first year couldn’t figure out?”

Mattheo smirked now, “I would love to get to know more about you, if you’d let me.” You leaned back now, lacing your fingers in front of you, “And why should I do that, sir?” 

“Got a habit of calling me sir, there something you’d care to share with me?” Mattheo’s lips tugged at the corners. He was teasing you, but he had no idea who he was playing with. You leaned in on your elbows. Mattheo, intrigued, mirrored your position. There was now mere inches between your faces. 

Mattheo had his classic smirk, the one he wore nearly all day, but it faltered when he saw a similar smirk appear on yours. You sat up now, leaning in  to whisper in his ear, “You’ll never be lucky enough to see what a good girl I can be.” 

With that you left the table, leaving Mattheo with his mouth slightly agape. He watched as you left the great hall, hips swaying a little extra as you walked away. 

A hand was clasp on Mattheo’s shoulder, “Well, cousin, that didn’t look like someone who said yes to a date.” 

Theo sat down next to him, “Malfoy’s right. You fuck up the dare already, Riddle?” Mattheo shook his head, “I’m just getting started.”

You stared at the parchment in front of you, unsure of how to respond. 

Are you going to the Slytherin party tonight, Sunshine?

You weren’t really one for parties, you’ve been to a couple in your time at Hogwarts but it usually just led to unwanted advances from boys you had no intention of giving the time of day to. 

You scribbled back your answer, I’m not sure, parties usually aren’t my scene. 

“Oh come on, y/n, go to one party,” your friend Darcy was leaning over your shoulder. You folded the parchment quickly, “Salazar's sake, Darcy, can you let me just have one thing.” 

Darcy shrugged her shoulders, “You’ve been chatting with this guy for months, y/n/n. Isn’t it time you met him in person? Getting kind of pathetic pining after him like this when you don’t even know what he looks like.” 

You tugged on your bottom lip with your teeth, “I mean, that’s the problem right? He seems so perfect right now but he could be a total tosser in person. I don’t know if I’m ready to take off the rose colored glasses.” 

“Then tell him to find you then.” 

You looked up at her, “You’re brilliant, you know that?” You open the parchment again, writing ferociously before your pen pal can reply again.

I think it’s time we met, what do you say? If you can find me that is

You waited a moment before seeing his response

What do you mean if I can??

You smiled to yourself

You’ve talked to me for two months, Duckie.  I’ll be at the party. If you know me as well as you think you do, you could find me

“Gonna tell me why you have that stupid grin on your face, cousin? Finally get y/n to agree to that date?” Draco was leaning on his elbow, trying to get Mattheo’s attention. 

“What? No, I’m going to do that at dinner.” Mattheo scribbled on the parchment in front of him.

Can’t wait to finally see you, sunshine

“Sunshine? Has Riddle gone soft on us now?” Draco was smirking, eyes on the parchment. Mattheo grabbed Draco by the collar, “One word. One word of this to anyone, cousin, and I’ll color your hair to match Weasley’s.” 

Someone, Draco’s face became paler, “Okay, okay. Merlin.” He straightened. “You don’t even know what this bird looks like. She’s kind of interfering with your plan for y/n is she not?” 

Mattheo shook his head, “I’ve got it handled, cousin. Don’t you worry.”

You set down your book, letting out a deep sigh as you now stared right at Mattheo sitting across from you, “Two meals in one day? Did I win the lottery or something?” 

Mattheo laughed, “What? Can’t I just sit with a pretty girl at dinner?” You gave him an incredulous look and his shoulders slumped. He leaned towards you, elbows on the table and hands flailing on he spoke, “Listen, if I tell you the truth you promise you’re not gonna freak out?” 

You nodded curtly, encouraging him to continue. “Okay, so this morning Theo may or may not have dared me to ask you out on a date, more so get you to go on an actual date.” You scoffed, “And why would he do that?” 

Mattheo shrugged, “I may or may not have been staring at you, it’s fine, not a big deal.” You raised your eyebrows at this, but Mattheo only rolled his eyes, “Don’t act like you don’t know you’re hot, y/n, okay?”

You laughed, putting your hands up in defense, “So what, I just go on a date with you and you win? Why is that even a thing?” 

Mattheo wore a look of disbelief, “You’re kidding right? You- Y/n, you never go out on dates.” 

You pouted, crossing your arms, “I’ve dated!” Mattheo shook his head, “Name one boy from Hogwarts you’ve been on a date with.” You sat there a moment, gnawing on the inside of your cheek while you thought.

“Now think of how many boys you’ve denied a date from,” Mattheo was smirking now, you just glared at him. 

“Okay, Riddle, fine. I’ll do it. But just one date.” You pointed your finger at him. Mattheo’s mouth opened and shut like a fish before he found the words, “A-are you serious?”

You nodded, “Now, tell me what it’ll be before I come to my senses and change my mind.” 

“Tonight. There’s a party in the common room. Be my date to the party.” 

You twisted your hands, bottom lip tucked between your teeth. Merlin, if you kept that up, Mattheo was going to lose his mind. “Tonight?” you repeated, looking nervous now.

“Something wrong with that? Just figured it’d be the easiest place for us to be seen together.” Mattheo was waiting for your response. 

You let out a soft sigh, “I…I was supposed to meet someone at the party. No one knows about it, well, except you now. I just, no offense to you, I just don’t know if I want that to mess it up.” 

Mattheo smiled, “It’s okay, I’m supposed to meet someone at the party, too. So we’ll just show up together, say hi to my friends so Theo can eat his words and then go our separate ways.” 

You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, “Perfect. Okay. So, how should I dress? I never really paid attention to the girls you hang around, since they’re basically a revolving door.” 

Mattheo held his hands to his chest, “Ouch, you wound me, y/n.” You laughed together. “But, really, wear whatever you want, Sunshine.” 

You froze at his words, “W-what did you say?”  If you could see yourself you’re sure that all the color drained from your face. Did he really just call you that? It had to be a coincidence, right? It was a common pet name, wasn’t it? It doesn’t mean he’s who you think he might be.

“I said you can wear whatever you want,” his smile was genuine, no sign or any give that he may know or be someone other than what he presented in front of you. You nodded at him, “Right, erm, okay. Well, I’m gonna go now, go get ready I guess. I’ll…see you later?” 

You started to stand and he grabbed your hand, kissing the back of it like a knight, “See you later, Sunshine.” 

You pulled your hand back, maybe a little too quickly, holding your books to your chest and rushing out of the great hall. Your mind was racing, not able to untie the knot of thoughts that was forming in your brain. Mattheo could not be your secret parchment person. He simply could not. Sure, he was handsome. But he was a jerk. He was a manipulator, that’s what he did with women, manipulated them, swindled them, sweet talked them until he got to bring them up to his dorm. That was the Mattheo Riddle you heard about. 

But he was nice to you all day today. But that could just be him being nice to get in your pants right? No, he agreed to leave you alone, said that he was meeting someone too. But what if who he was trying to meet was actually you? 

Your head hurt. You groaned as you belly flopped onto your bed in your dorm. 

“Y’alright, there, y/n/n?” Darcy was picking through her closet, presumably looking for something to wear to the party. 

You mumbled, words muffled by your pillow. “Come again, dear?” Darcy was sat on your bed now. You turned your head to the side, not even bothering moving your hair from your eyes, “I think I know who my secret parchment man is.” 

Darcy jumped up from her position, bouncing on her toes, “Brilliant, brilliant, that’s so wonderful, y/n/n!” 

Her bouncing slowly came to a halt when she noticed you didn’t move from your position, “Why are you not happy? Oh no, is he ugly? How bad is it? Like Filch bad? Y/n/n, talk to me, don’t sulk all the way until the party.” 

You groaned again, “The party. Merlin…I have to get ready for my bloody date.” 

“You’re what?!”

You sat up, “It’s no big deal, Darce. I just…told Mattheo that I would accompany him to the party tonight.” 

“Mattheo,” Darcy held her hands out in front of her, “Like…Riddle?” 

“Do you know any other Mattheo?” 

“Well what are you gonna wear? Oh my god, Mattheo?! Really? God, are you gonna snog him? I heard he was bloody amazing with his tongue,” Darcy was now throwing the slinkiest, tiniest dresses on your bed, continuing to rant about how much you should try and shag Mattheo by night’s end.

“You know I am trying to meet someone else at this party, you know that right?” You held up a dress before tossing it on the floor, “Absolutely not.” 

“Okay well what about this one?” She held up a silky green number, corset style back and a deep v-cut in the front, cups like a bra for the bustier, “And you looked downright miserable at the possibility of who this person might be, might as well look hot with a hot person until you decide if it’s really him or not.”  

You held up the dress she offered, flipping it back and forth before deciding to try it on, “I guess you’re right. I can’t really decide to have a bad time unless I know for sure that I’m right about who it is.” 

You shimmied the dress over your hips, tugging a little at the hem, “S’not too short?” Darcy shook her head, “Absolutely not, now…let’s do your hair and makeup” 

You rubbed your lips together after Darcy applied the gold and glittery lip gloss. You put on your old Doc Marten boots, in your mind you had to keep a little authenticity with your outfit and you thought it gave you a little ‘bad girl’ flair. 

You did a twirl in the mirror. “Please tell me those aren’t the shoes you’re wearing,” Darcy had a displeased look on her face, both of you so focused on your outfit you didn’t notice the door opening. 

“I think she looks breathtaking, honestly.” You both turn at the sound of Mattheo’s voice, your cheeks instantly aflame. 

“We’ll I’m going down, I’ll see you two later?” Darcy shot you a wink and you waved her off before she left the room. 

You turned back to Mattheo, “So really, how do I look?” 

Mattheo walked toward you, tentatively placing his hands on your hips. You felt like your skin was burning where he touched. He twisted your hips, forcing you to spin around and give him a full view before you faced him again. 

“I was being truthful earlier, you look incredible.”

You looked at the ground bashfully. Mattheo grabbed your chin, forcing your eyes to meet his, “Hey none of that now, Sunshine. Shall we go give ‘em hell at the party then find our real dates, yeah?” 

Your cheeks burn further at the nickname. I think we’ve already found each other, you think to yourself, but nonetheless, you nod and allow him to guide you down the hall and to the party. 

He’s respectful as he does so, keeping his hand on the small of your back. When you walk through the silencing charm barrier it feels like everyone’s eyes are on the two of you. 

As you maneuvered through the crowd Mattheo’s hand gripped your waist, pulling you closer to him. You turned your face towards him, only for him to give you a wink before seeing his friends in front of you. 

Theo’s eyes were nearly popping out of his skull, while Enzo basically choked on his drink. 

“They always like this?” You ask no one in particular. One of Mattheo’s friends comes up to you, “Blaise, very nice to meet you, Y/n. And yes, those two are always like that.” 

You shake his hand, smiling. You’re introduced formally to the rest of the group, though you know all their names by simply being in the same house. 

Mattheo offers to get you a drink and then leaves you with his friends. Theo and Enzo each scoot over, making room for you to sit between them. 

As you sit on the couch, Theo leans back, slinging his arms over the back and manspreading his legs. “So how’d he get you to do it?” 

You turn your head to the dirty blonde boy, “How’d who get me to do what?” 

Enzo leans over then, “How’d Riddle get you to go on a date with him? You never date anybody.” 

You laugh a little, “You’d be surprised.”

Before you could explain much further, Mattheo returned, saving you and pulling you to sit with him on another couch. At this point a few other girls joined. You knew them from your house and classes, Daphne, Astoria and Pansy. 

Theo suggested playing a game. Mattheo leaned down, breath fanning your ear as he offered you to leave, “You can go find your date now if you want.” You shook your head, “S’okay, I can stay for one game. Makes the date more believable, yeah?” 

Mattheo smiled at you, a real soft and genuine smile. You could tell it was a thank you, so you both scooted your couch closer to the table for a game. 

The game was adolescent, truth or dare. However if you refused to answer or do a dare you had to drink. The rules were simple enough and you were fine with participating. Blaise and Daphne snogged, Theo was dared to take a shot from Pansy’s belly button and Enzo had to admit he had a crush on Astoria second year.

When Enzo picked you for truth or dare, Mattheo gave him a warning look. You assumed this meant to go easy on you. “Erm, truth or dare, y/n?”

“Let’s go with truth.”

Enzo sat for a moment, tapping his finger on his chin, “If you were to date someone, like a proper boyfriend,” he paused to wiggle his eyebrows at Mattheo, “what kind of pet name would you give them? And why.” 

You thought for a second. You could take a drink, no one could force you to answer. But it was also such an easy question, Enzo really did go easy on you. You could lie, say any pet name in the world. But you wanted to test your theory. See if what you speculated was really true. 

You looked at Mattheo, who gave you a warm smile. Then you looked back around the circle. “I guess, erm, I would call them duck or…duckie.” 

You could feel Mattheo stiffen next to you, but you couldn’t bear to look at him. “That’s kind of adorable,” Daphne cooed, “Why Duckie?”

You shifted a little, “Erm, because that’s what my mum called me dad, and they were so in love, like, proper love that you read about or see in movies.” 

“Were? So they’re not in love anymore?” Draco asked. 

“Cousin.” Mattheo scolded him, but you waved your hand, “S’okay. My mum died a few years ago. She was a brilliant witch, loved experimenting. Then one went awry.” 

You felt yourself tear up a bit. You didn’t talk of your mum much. Mattheo rubbed your back, but your skin felt on fire. “Sorry I’m just gonna…take a moment.” 

You got up to leave, heading toward your dorm before tears could fall, you didn’t want to embarrass yourself. 

You could feel someone following you but you didn’t care, you just needed to get to your dorm, needed to let your emotions out because after everything that occurred today you felt like you were overflowing. 

You burst through your door, someone catching it before you could slam it closed fully. 

“Y/n, talk to me,” Mattheo’s voice was soft, but you kept your back to him. The tears were coming and you couldn’t let him see. 

“Sunshine…” he pleaded. You turned slowly, eyes at his feet when you finally faced him. “That’s you right,” he took a cautious step forward, “You’re my Sunshine, aren’t you?” 

He held his finger under your chin, tilting it up softly until your eyes met his. He cupped your cheek, thumb wiping away the tears that fell. 

“You’re my duck,” you whispered. 

“Is that a bad thing?” He spoke softly, as if he used his regular volume you’d shatter into pieces. 

You shook your head, “S’not a bad thing. Little surprising. B’not bad.”

Mattheo laughed lightly, “Well I’m glad to hear that.” 

“When did you know? Or when did you suspect?” Mattheo had his hands on your waist now. 

“The first time you called me sunshine,” you smiled a little, “I thought maybe it was a mistake, or you called all girls that.”

“I don’t,” Mattheo replied quickly, “call all girls that. Before I said it to you I only ever wrote it down to…well I guess you.” 

You both laughed a little at this, “Why do you think you said it to me? I mean, you didn’t know, did you? Or suspect it?” 

Mattheo shook his head, “Dunno, after lunch and how you responded to me, it just came out. Guess maybe subconsciously I knew?” He laughed a little, “But I didn’t know for sure until the game, when you said you’d call your boyfriend Duckie.” 

“Is that what you want?” You asked him, causing his head to tilt, “To be my boyfriend.” 

Mattheo was smiling so wide his dimples popped out, you never noticed those before. However now you were going to make it your personal mission to make them pop every chance you got. 

“Is that what you want, Sunshine?” Your cheeks heated at the nickname again, but you smiled at him through your shyness, “I think we’d be fools not to try, yeah?” 

He cupped your cheek again, running a thumb along your bottom lip. He leaned in slowly, prepared to stop at any moment. 

You lifted to your tiptoes, closing the gap for him and allowing your lips to melt together. He pulled you in by your waist as you wrapped your hands around his neck, deepening the kiss. 

He kissed you hungrily, eager, intent on making you dizzy. He held nothing back, and neither did you. Your lips collided in a mix of gasps and groans, fingers clawing at each other until you finally separated, much to each other's dismay. 

 “That was…wow,” for the first time in his life Mattheo didn’t know what to say. 

“I agree,” you laughed, still holding on to his shoulders, “did you…wanna go back to the party or..” you trailed off, eyeing your bed. 

Mattheo followed your gaze, “You gonna show me what a good girl you can be, hmm?”

THIS IS PURE FILTH AND HOLY HELL

𝑷𝑬𝑨𝑪𝑬 𝑩𝒀 𝑽𝑬𝑵𝑮𝑬𝑨𝑵𝑪𝑬

PAIRING: Mattheo Riddle x Reader

SUMMARY: When Mattheo begins to wander his eyes a little too much, you have the perfect way to remind him who he belongs to — by wrecking his moss prized possession, his car. But better than that, he has the perfect opportunity of fucking some sense into your mind.

WORD COUNT: 4.8k

WARNINGS: MDNI! College/University AU. Toxic Relationship (But They’re Trying). They’re Super Rich Kids. Mentions of Cheating. Foul Language. Oral (female receiving). P in V. Unprotected Sex. Somewhat Degradation and Dumbification.

You could feel the blood boiling in your veins as your fingers gripped the silver fork so tightly that your manicured nails were turning pale from lack of circulation, but you didn't care, or rather, you didn't even notice the abuse of your knuckles with your eyes focused on the pathetic scene at the end of the dining hall.

Mattheo was leaning against one of the tables occupied by people you could only classify as lessers since none of them were known to you, not caring one bit if he was disturbing their lunch, much more concerned with giving one of his bright smiles to a girl who was almost drooling over your boyfriend, her poor fertile imagination probably running to scenarios where he took her to meet his parents and fucked her against the wooden table in his father's office — one that you knew all too well.

Poor little thing was what you usually thought when you came across one of these, making a point of pushing Mattheo a little harder against the brick walls, pulling his hair just enough to make him moan against your lips, a sight for all to see and know that he was off limits. In your opinion, they should even be grateful that you gave them some material to fantasize about while masturbating in their rooms alone while your boyfriend fucked you in some exclusive club in the city center, but now things were starting to go a little too far and you were growing irritated by it.

“For God's sake, put down that fork before you break it or your fingers,” Pansy's exasperated voice snapped you out of your poisonous thoughts, only moving your eyes to see one of your closest friends who had one of Blaise's muscular arms around her shoulders, so they'd been at it again, but it wouldn't be long before it was over once more, that was the dynamic that seemed to work for them.

“I think someone's jealous,” Draco quipped with his usual smug grin, making you want to punch him in the face more than ever, but you controlled yourself, giving him one of your tight sarcastic smiles.

“I thought you didn't care what Mattheo does, or rather who Mattheo does, after you snogged Oliver fucking Wood at the Astoria's party,” Theodore pointed out, always defending his best friend.

You rolled your eyes at the boy, wondering what made you keep hanging around with idiots like them, “I don't care who he decides to play shove-the-stick with, but I think it's funny the level he's stooping to, it's downright depressing. Who's going to be next, that Granger girl? For God's sake, that thing he's talking to is only here because of a scholarship, she must think Annabel's is a person.”

You were so invested in your rant that you didn't even notice that Mattheo was heading back to the table where you were all gathered, a smug smile painted his features and that was enough to indicate that he knew exactly what the commotion was about, “What are we talking about?”

He left a quick kiss on your cheek before squirming to sit down next to Lorenzo, leaving you to wipe your face exaggeratedly with an outraged expression of disgust that clearly amused him, “Don't spread your drool on me when you've probably caught thrush from that weirdo.”

“Don't worry, darling, girls like her don't have that sort of thing. The only one who can give someone an STI with their promiscuity is you,” Mattheo's crude words were followed by a laugh and you wanted to physically attack the asshole sitting across the table, but that wasn't the worst of the pleasantries you'd exchanged in all the years of your relationship.

You and Mattheo had crossed paths for the first time during the summer vacations on the French Riviera when you were still at Wycombe Abbey and he was an Etonian, although you didn't hit it off at first because he thought you were a stuck-up, conceited brat and you believed he was just a savage who had hit the jackpot, but that didn't stop your parents from striking up a good relationship — despite your parents' belief, both from aristocratic families, that they should only associate with other people of their lineage, Mattheo's father had enough money and influence to penetrate the tight circles of the nobility, although always with one foot out the door, never really being treated as a natural like the rest of you.

But the following summer, to your surprise, the Riddles were invited to your residence in the Scottish Highlands, and although the silly squabbles between you hadn't abated one bit, it wasn't long before you were leaving your bedroom door unlocked to receive nightly visits from the boy while your boyfriend slept in the guest room at the end of the corridor, and since then you'd been in an exhausting relationship that only surfaced during the breaks, but that seemed to have taken some kind of constant form since you joined the same university even though you'd never talked about it.

“We're going out tonight,” Mattheo re-started the conversation after the table fell silent with the only sound being the disgusting kisses between Pansy and Blaise, you were really losing what little patience you had left with your boyfriend.

“It's very nice that you've decided to start doing charity,” you pouted, amusing your friends who now had all their attention on you. “Actually, I was talking to the guys and we want to know who's going to be next, maybe the female Weasley? I mean, you could talk to that loser Longbottom and start a wankers club.”

Mattheo laughed exaggeratedly just to mock you, clapping his hands and attracting a few glances from the other tables, including the one he was at earlier and you rolled your eyes, making the girl switch her attention to her finished dish, “Is this all jealousy, darling? Don't worry, Daddy Riddle always has some time to fuck you into despair, don't worry, I'm just enjoying what else this campus has to offer, but you'll always be my favorite.”

You stood up from the table, your blood steaming, your palms hitting the wood hard enough to silence everyone, your body leaning in to stare deep into the eyes of the boy who seemed to be enjoying your actions more than anything, “I swear, if you dare go out with that bitch, I'll wreck your fucking car and your pretty face.”

Your words had boosted Mattheo's ego, that was a fact, not that he really needed help walking around with his head inflated, but you were a woman who kept her word, and more than that, you were a woman who liked to make sure everyone knew that their place was always below you, not messing with things that were yours — especially not your favorite toy.

So you were in for a treat.

Your hair flew against the wind as you purposely sped through the empty streets, after all, what's the worst that could happen, the police stopping you? Well, it had happened before and your parents had bailed you out without a scratch on your reputation or a criminal record, and they would certainly do it again if necessary, so you enjoyed the drive from your uptown apartment, the loud music blasting on your radio until you pulled up in front of the house Mattheo shared with Theodore and Lorenzo on the outskirts of town, claiming it was better for parties, so they could have more privacy to bring girls to their so-called slaughterhouse.

It was a real shame that Mattheo had forgotten how much of an asshole you could be.

A pitying smile painted your features as you surveyed the beautiful black Ferrari SF90 Stradale Assetto Fiorano that was still parked outside the garage, so predictable, but your expression was quickly replaced by an evil grin as you adjusted the key between your fingers, digging it into the side of the car to leave a long silver stripe down the entire length of your boyfriend's car, a beautiful contrast to its color, almost like a contemporary work of art.

Your hand gripped the key tightly to carve your name into the hood, a sweet reminder of who Mattheo belonged to, just something to make him think twice before trying to cheat on you again. Still with the sharp material, you slashed a hole in all four tires, watching with amusement as they deflated completely.

But that wasn't enough, you needed more to release all the anger that was still building up in your chest.

It was time for the best act of your little vendetta. You grabbed the expensive Miura Golf club from the back seat, your father had commissioned it directly from Japan to have your initials and family crest engraved on it and he'd probably go a bit mad when he found out you'd used his prized relic for it, but it wasn't as if you really cared, he could never stay cross with you for long anyway.

You took a deep breath, using all your years of private training to achieve a perfect swing that hit one of the headlights perfectly, making a loud noise that mixed with the car alarm — oh, you should tell Mattheo to change his car's security system, that one clearly wasn't good enough if it needed a swing to be triggered.

“What the fuck is going on,” Mattheo shouted as he opened the front door, almost fainting at the sight of the scene unfolding in front of his incredulous eyes, you were destroying the other headlight of his car, rushing to hold you tight enough to stop you hitting the windows. “Are you out of your fucking mind?”

Mattheo manhandled you in his strong arms, an angry look staring at you as if he wanted to reduce your existence to dust right there, and for some reason it made you squeeze your thighs together, “You're a fucking bitch.”

“I warned you I'd break your car if you insisted on going out with that skank,” you replied indifferently, shrugging as if your actions meant nothing, and even if you had crossed the line, Mattheo deserved every second of it.

“What you’re doing was a fucking crime, do that fucking brain of yours know this?” He squeezed the flesh of your arms hard enough to leave marks for days to come, his mind not really knowing what he would be capable of doing to you.

You smiled mockingly, “And what are you gonna do, call the police?”

The boy let go of your body hard enough to make you stumble back a few steps, leaning on the car to regain your balance, running his fingers through your hair and you couldn't help but admire his jaw clenched in anger, “So that's what you want to do, have a fucking fight?”

“And how else am I supposed to get your attention these days?” You retorted angrily, staring into his hazel eyes which were now much darker with hatred. “All you do lately is try to get your dick wet with other girls. The only times you open your mouth to address me is to insult or call me up asking me to come so you can fuck and then dump me like I'm a cheap fucking whore. You don't have the slightest right to treat me like that, Riddle.”

Mattheo was fuming at your accusations, although he knew that some of your anger was genuine, nothing justified you smashing up his car like a maniac, “I wasn't the one practically sucking Wood's cock at the Astoria party, was I?”

An ironic but pained laugh escaped your lips, “Don't you realize that you're just proving my point? You were too busy eye-fucking every other girl to even remember I exist, that I can see the shit you do and that it hurts me, so no, I don't feel guilty about being forced to pull that so you remember you have a girlfriend, that I'm here watching you pay more attention to any slightly cute little thing in a short skirt than to me.”

Mattheo's eyes softened as he turned to you again, and despite all the facade of anger in your expression, he could still see that same girl who sneaked off with him to show him her favorite places on the family property, the one who didn't judge him or try to give him foolish advice when he opened up about his complicated family life, the one who called him as soon as she knew she'd gotten into her dream university —and Mattheo genuinely couldn't tell where you guys started to go off the rails, or if it had ever gone right.

“Jump,” he commanded as he took long strides to reach you, his large hands reaching around your ass to offer you enough leverage to wrap your legs around his waist. “You're a slut, you know that?”

You threw your head back in a hearty laugh, feeling his hard cock against your ass, “And you're a perv, Riddle.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Mattheo bited on a bruise on the soft skin of the curve of your neck, making you close your eyes tightly at the sensation. “You're paying for that shit you did to my car.”

“And who's going to force me, you?” You retorted with a stubborn grin on your face that was deliberate to get under your boyfriend's skin, just to see how far you could go.

“I'll have to show you then,” he grunted angrily, walking off with you still in his arms, but before your mind could consider that he was going to take you into the house to fuck you against his soft bed or the glass of the living room, Mattheo threw your body carelessly on top of the hood. “Let's put on a show to the boys inside, stroking their cocks, watching through the cameras you getting fucked until you're a good, pliant girlfriend and not just some common whore, or maybe even let the neighbors hear that the prissy little princess is just a cocksucking little bitch," he stopped his ministrations to reach for your face hard enough to hurt, holding it so that your eyes were fixed on his. “Maybe they even called the cops after the fucking damage you did to my car. You know what, I think a mugshot of the spoiled heiress's pretty little face covered in my cum might do some good as a reminder that the world isn't your playground. If your parents didn't give you any limits as a child, I'm going to fuck some into your stupid little head now.”

Sex with Mattheo was certainly always a trip, but you had never experienced anything like this, and as sick as it sounded, you were enjoying being manhandled and treated like nothing more than one of his little sex toys, his favorite, so different from how people spent their lives kissing the ground your feet walked on.

He wasn't worried about pleasuring you, he just wanted to get his petty personal revenge because two could play this game. Letting all the hatred he felt for you kissing someone else at the party come to the surface, one that he had hidden so well to not give you the slightest satisfaction, but which had been gnawing at his mind ever since he saw it; for you allowing virgin nerds to jerk off to thoughts of your short, skimpy clothes, finding it amusing how they could look, desire, fantasize, but never touch your body; for you wrecking his favorite car out of stupid jealousy instead of acting like an adult.

Mattheo wasn't the least bit gentle in the way he practically ripped off your very tight black pants, leaving a trail of pain from the burning of the fabric against your skin, almost offended that the garment was in his way, but smiling with satisfaction when he saw that you weren't wearing any underwear, leaving your wet pussy exposed for him to delight in the scene in front of his eyes, leaving a slap on your clit that made your body jolt with the delicious burning sensation, “No panties?”

“I know you better than you know yourself,” you winked with what little control you still had over your body, feeling your breath hitch as you watched Mattheo's hands pin your hips down so you wouldn't run away from his touch, sinking into his knees to lick your slit slowly but deeply, making a loud moan escape your throat at the delightful sensation that seemed to consume your body in flames.

Your fidgety fingers found their way into Mattheo's curls, tugging them hard enough to make him moan against your throbbing pussy before going back to devouring it like a starved man —and he really was, it had been weeks since he'd gone down on you, maybe it was the lack of a good fuck that was making you act like such a slut, and how he missed your delicious taste, feeling you come undone on his tongue, your whole facade falling apart because of him.

He pulled away slightly and you whined at the loss of sensation, trying to force his head back into your heated core, but soon being invaded by the feeling of one of his long fingers sliding inside you and curling slightly to press against your sensitive spot, making your body jerk with pleasure at the new stimulation, closing your eyes and begging for more.

“Look at me,” Mattheo demanded as his finger slid torturously slow in and out of your pussy, but you were too lost in the sensation to even hear what your boyfriend was saying, and he wasn't in the mood for it, slowly pulling all the way out only to shove two fingers in hard enough to open your eyes, a scream escaping your lips. “I told you to look at me. I'm not in the mood for another one of your stupid games.”

You nodded quickly, agreeing to anything just to reach your orgasm, and Mattheo laughed darkly, it was so easy to break you. Your eyes never left his as he approached your clit, sucking hard, scraping his teeth only slightly as his fingers continued to pump mercilessly, causing a loud cry of his name to rip through your dry throat, and Mattheo was sure that any nosy neighbors had heard, which was a sweet stroke to his ego.

“Mattheo,” you trilled as the boy's favorite chant, using all your strength to keep your eyes wide open, not wanting to be punished or miss the scene that was his curls falling on his forehead, his dark eyes fixed on you while his pretty mouth and nimble fingers worked non-stop inside you, knowing all the ways of your body. Your hands frantically searched for anything on the hood to hold onto as you felt the sensation growing deep in your stomach.

“Poor little thing,” Mattheo patronized mockingly, grunting against your pussy as his movements increased and slowed only to make you moan and beg all the more, trying to move your hips, but to no avail, in search of some friction. “Don't tell me you want to cum, I just started touching you.”

“Matt, I…” the beginning of a pathetic plea was cut short by a cry as he withdrew his fingers from inside you, leaving your walls contracting around nothing, begging for any friction strong enough to finally make you reach your peak, but Mattheo stood up from his position on the floor, looking far more composed than you despite his slick glistening chin, it was a scene that could almost make you cum.

A gasp escaped you as the bulge still hidden by your boyfriend's dark jeans rubbed against your wet pussy, no doubt leaving a stain, but before you could move for relief, Mattheo wrapped one of his hands in your hair, tugging hard enough to make you curse under your breath, “Language, darling, that's not how a proper Lady behaves, especially not after some cock.”

“Fuck, Mattheo,” you didn't know if it was a curse or a moan when his pants rubbed even harder against your core as he reached down to nibble on your exposed neck, leaving marks that would surely be very visible the next day and he would make a point of bragging about them all day long, but your possessive part liked the idea of all the other desperate women knowing that it was you he was fucking the night before.

“I bet bloody Oliver Wood could never get you like this, ye?” There was a smirk in his words, but much more than that, there was a real need in his seemingly rhetorical question. “I bet he doesn't know how to fuck anything other than a football.”

But you weren't willing to stroke Mattheo's ego, “No girl has ever gotten out of his bed without some very nice words,” you gasped, and in any other situation, your boyfriend would have known your words were empty, but now they made his blood bubble. “I bet he'd find each of my sweet spots, make me scream his name for all the neighbors to know, I'm sure he'd make me come again and again. Oliver, Oliver, Oliver-”

Your playful moans, which seemed so close to real when they fell on Mattheo's ears, were cut short by an almost superhuman force pulling your body off the hood of the car, twisting your body like a rag doll until you had your face pressed on top of your own name that you had written down earlier, your arms painfully being held back behind your back while your legs were kicked apart to give him better access to your tight cunt.

Mattheo had a plan in mind when he first decided to fuck you tonight. He would bring you over the edge several times, make you cum until your legs were shaking and your stupid little head was all fuzzy, barely focusing on begging for more of his cock, then he would give you one last orgasm on his bed, looking deep into your eyes and assuring you in every way that you were his, and he was all yours. Then, after some good aftercare, you would talk and resolve all the issues that strained your relationship.

But fuck that. If you wanted to act like a whore, you'd be treated like a whore.

Before you could rationalize what was happening, Mattheo had lowered his pants in a single tug, his bulging cock finally relieved to have been freed, and you tried as best you could to turn your head to catch a glimpse of your boyfriend, but your eyes closed against your will when two of his fingers collected enough of your slick to rub on his cock, not that it was necessary with the amount of pre-cum.

A shudder ran through your body as he ran the thick shaft of his dick over your cunt, your breath hitching with the need to feel Mattheo inside you, claiming what had always been his, but before you could beg him to fuck you, he sank into you with a single thrust, making you arch your back at the same time as a loud moan spread through the open space.

There was no time for you to adjust to his size or girth, a delicious burn spreading through your walls as he picked up a brutal pace, one of his arms around your waist to make sure you didn't move while his other hand was in your hair, pulling so that you didn't try to camouflage any of your moans and pleas, his name falling from your lips like a chant.

Your incoherent cries were the only sound that could be heard along with the constant slapping of skin on skin, the coil in your abdomen growing rapidly with the continuous stimulation, and if you could see the boy, you wouldn't be surprised to see him with red cheeks, his curls sticking up against the sweat on his forehead and his pupils dilated as he watched you taking it so well.

“You're mine,” Mattheo almost growled, laying his chest against your back, making his cock go even deeper inside you, leading to a desperate cry of pleasure, your eyes rolling back as you felt the spongy head of his cock hit your cervix. “Mine to fuck whenever and wherever I want,” he fixed the grip on your hair so that you were looking straight into the depths of his eyes when the next words left his pink lips, and you felt your knees give way if it wasn't for his hold on you. “Mine to love. Can you get it through your stupid brain or are you too fucked up to understand anything?”

“Y-You're a dick,” you gasped between thrusts that seemed to take you to the moon and back. “But I love you. I-I fucking love you Mattheo.”

He smiled in satisfaction at your words, capturing your lips in what felt like your first kiss in a long time, not having enough when he pulled apart to catch a breath, “Yeah, you love me, and you love my fucking dick too, don't you?”

He left a kiss on your forehead before standing up again, withdrawing his entire cock from your warmth, grunting when you tried to push your ass back in search of his thickness, but he held you in place before ramming into you again in one go, slamming deep again and again as his thrusts came back even harder, “Say it for me, love.”

“I love your dick,” you cried out strangled, feeling your strength drain away with every second.

“Yes, you do. And it's all yours, love. My dick doesn't belong to anyone but you, go on, milk me dry, pretty girl, show the others that I'm all yours,” he said between groans, his words strangely soothing the black hole of jealousy that had grown in your soul. One of his hands found its way between your legs, his nimble fingers stimulating your swollen clit, making your moans even more frantic. “And whose pussy is that?”

You needed a few seconds to register his words, the pleasure being too much for your foggy mind, “Yours. All yours. Just yours, Matt.”

Mattheo pouted, even if you couldn't see it, but his mocking tone did the job, “Are you sure, baby? It seemed like you were so convinced earlier that you didn't need me, that that bastard Wood could finish you off just as well.”

“No!” You cried out, your head so confused by the stimuli that you failed to understand that this was a joke, although there was a good deal of truth in the green-eyed monster eating away at Mattheo's peace ever since the scene of you in someone else's arms had made its way into his mind. “He could never treat me as well as you. He couldn't, fuck, shit, Mattheo, he could never fuck me like I need, like only you can do. Only you. Always just you. I fucking love you.”

The words worked their magic, along with the mercilessly rhythm at which Mattheo fucked you stupid into despair, his cock hitting the exact spot inside you that made your walls contract so tightly around him, his fingers working wonders on your clit, and with one last thrust, he lowered his chest against your back, nibling your earlobe, “I've got you,” letting your climaxes take over, your breathing ragged and your eyes rolling as you felt the jets of cum filling you even more, marking you as his all over.

“I love you,” Mattheo was the first to speak after what seemed like hours, still in the same position, buried deep inside you as your breaths evened out, neither wanting to be the first to move, but it was necessary. You whined at the loss of contact as Mattheo withdrew his softening cock from your pussy, watching the pornographic way in which his thick white strands flowed out of your pussy and ran down your legs, and he couldn't resist the temptation to pick up his phone that had fallen on the floor and snap a quick photo for his personal collection. “Let's get you cleaned up, get some rest, and then tomorrow we can talk about everything. All right?”

You nodded weakly, not resisting when Mattheo gently manipulated your body to help you put on your panties, he wasn't lying when he said that Lorenzo and Theodore were at home too, although it was unlikely that they had watched the security cameras for their own good. You nestled your head into your boyfriend's warm chest, smiling slightly when he left a kiss on the top of your head, “I love you, Matt, but I really enjoyed trashing your car.”

😔 precious

wellhayley: This guy loves to give his leading ladies the spotlight 🌟

(2023.06.30)