Whats In The Leclerc Genes

what’s in the leclerc genes …

*silently* screaming crying shaking throwing up banging my head sliding down the wall

He's beauty, he's grace, he spins all over the place

Hello, I absolutely adore your writing!

Can I please request Mattheo Riddle with prompts 1 and/or 20? Preferably a fluffy ending.

I would love to read this (but absolutely no pressure) so thanks in advance and I´m already looking forward to reading more from you!

(1) thank you so much 🥺 you are far too kind

(2)I couldn't think of a way for these two to be together so I decided to just make two different blurbs for ya

[20] “How long has it been since someone’s hugged you?”

You let out one continuous groan from the moment you walked through the portrait hole until you got to the sofas in front of the fireplaces. The only person in your friend group that was present in the common room was Mattheo. You dropped your school bag on the ground at his feet as you stood in front of him. He leaned back looking up at you from the couch, small smirk on his lips, “Long day?” You nodded, “Worst day so far ever.” He cracked his knuckles in a playful manner, “How can I help, darling? Need me to kick someone’s arse?” You shook your head, instead holding both arms out in front of you, making grabby hands toward him like a toddler. He quirked an eyebrow in return, “What are you doing?” You huffed out loud, “Hug me, Teo.” He waved his hand at you, “No, I don’t do that.” You slouched down on the couch next to him, a pout on your lips, “Theo would hug me.” “Then go find Theo; I don’t do hugs,” Mattheo rolled his eyes, picking back up the book he was reading before you walked in. You were slightly irritated now, Mattheo’s attitude adding to your bad day. You nabbed the book from his hands, him turning his head slowly to face you, face blank, “What do you think you’re doing?” You closed his book, sitting it on the opposite side of you, “How long has it been since someone’s hugged you, Mattheo?” He furrowed his brow, “I just told you I don’t do that.” You weren’t understanding him, “Are you saying you’ve never hugged anyone?” He sighed, lying his head on the back of the couch before facing you again, “I’m sure I have before, I just don’t remember the last time I did it, don’t really see the point. You’re just grabbing onto someone for like thirty seconds then letting go. How does that even make you feel better?” You shook your head in disbelief, getting up from the couch, “Stand up.” You pulled on his arm to follow you, “Stand up Mattheo, now.” He stood, rolling his eyes with arms down at his sides, “What are we doing?” “I’m going to give you a proper hug, and you’re going to understand why hugging is so important.”

He stood still, letting you maneuver his arms open as gave him instructions, “Okay, seeing as you’re like six inches taller than me, I’m going to wrap my arms around your middle. Then, you’re going to wrap your arms around my shoulders. Feel free to nuzzle your face into my hair, I used new conditioner this morning and my hair smells amazing.” He laughed softly at your instructions, reluctantly agreeing. You gave him a smile before taking a step closer to him, wrapping your arms around his middle like you said you would. You nuzzled your face into his chest, breathing in his scent of fresh earth and spice. It took Mattheo a moment to react before following your directions, wrapping his arms around your shoulders. He buried his face into the top of your head like you suggested, taking a deep breath. You weren’t wrong about your conditioner, it smelled so good to him; like honey and mandarin oranges. You squeezed him a little tighter, and after a moment you felt him take a deep breath and pull you even closer. “Someone wake Salazar from the dead is Mattheo hugging somebody?” The two of you pulled apart quickly sitting back down on the couch. Mattheo’s cheeks dusted pink and Pansy and Theo walked up to you both. Theo looked almost offended as he sat down across from you. You shrugged your shoulders, “I had a bad day, you weren’t here.” Theo brushed it off, lightly teasing you. Pansy and Theo dragged on about how good their days were as Mattheo leaned in to whisper to you, “You know you have to hug me every day now.” 

[1] “I like how good your hand looks in mine”

You and Mattheo laid on the couch in front of the fire. You were nestled in between his legs, your back to his front. You were playing with the rings on his fingers and you guys listened to Theo drag on about his latest crush. Mattheo was responding to him when necessary, but you were drowning him out. You were obsessed with Mattheo’s hands. The scars that ran along his knuckles from the many fights he had, the perfection of his tanned skin, and don’t get you started on his rings. The one on his middle finger was your favorite. It was a thick silver ring, with a signet of a snake on it. A dark emerald stone as the background to the serpent. You laced your fingers with his, your black manicure on display against the back of his hand. You felt him smile as he kissed your cheek, whispering in your ear, “You know I like how good your hand looks in mine.”

my husband 🤤

Benjamin Wadsworth as Marcus López Arguello | Deadly Class Season 1

giggling

I CAN SEE YOU

pairing: mattheo x fem!slytherin!reader

word count: 2.9k

summary: quick little story about meeting mattheo and kissing in a cupboard

a/n: taylor swift and mattheo riddle? my favorite

“‘Cause I can see you waitin' down the hall from me  And I could see you up against the wall with me.” 

It was never your intention to be up this late in the first place. I mean, it’s only your first day back to Hogwarts and you were struck with a certain homesickness you knew only the stars would cure. Very promising. 

You had forgotten how high the stairs were up to the astronomy tower, greatly underestimating them until you struggled at the halfway mark. Luckily, you’re ambitious. Sometimes, you wish you weren’t, like now. 

At first, you had thought the smell of smoke was only your imagination, and that the familiar haze was only a hallucination, but the dark haired boy leaning cross armed on the railing certainly wasn’t. You watched as he took a drag from cigarette, throwing a bored glance at you over his shoulder. 

Fuck fuck fuck fuck, repeated in your head like a prayer. Your first thought was to sprint down the stairs rather than be in the same proximity as Mattheo Riddle. The other was to stay, he had already saw you. What’s the worst that could happen? 

He could murder you. Well duh, anyone is capable of that, but he doesn’t seem to have his wand and you can feel yours uncomfortable poking you through the back pocket of your short pajama bottoms, so you should have the upper hand if he tried to. 

Or, you could just go to bed. Yeah, yeah that seems nice. So what he saw you, he could think you’re a lost first year, not that you look like one.

Taking a step backwards, the wooden floorboards beneath you release a creak, and you wince.  

Fuck. 

“Going so soon?”

Again, fuck. 

His voice startles you, deep and raspy. You watch as he takes another drag, blowing smoke from his mouth. Mattheo looks over at you from his shoulder, eye brows raised impatiently. 

“Who?” you question dumbly. “Me?” 

Mattheo huffs a laugh, still gazing at you with a bored expression. His eyes are a lite as the flames from his cigarette reflect onto him. 

“No,” he deadpans sarcastically. A beat goes by before he rolls his eyes and turns his head back to its original place, looking at the stars like you had intended to do before you got here, but it seems you were looking at him more. 

Rather than standing awkwardly at the stairs, you venture forward leaning on the railing a few feet away from him. The decreased distance makes you more tense, standing awkwardly at the railing. 

Quiet pops erupt as you roll your shoulders, urging yourself to relax and you anxiously search for the big dipper in the darkened sky. In your peripheral vision, you can see Mattheo tilt his head at you. 

“What?” he says, voice low, almost a whisper. Cigarette between his lips, he asks, “Are you scared of me?” 

You turn to him, echoing his position of one side leaning against the railing. 

No, you lie in your head. Definitely not. I’m not afraid of anything. But, most certainly, that would be a lie. 

“A little,” you decide, trying your hardest to make eye contact with him. It’s a struggle to do so, especially as a smirk graces his lips as he plucks his cigarette from his lips. He lightly tosses it onto the floor and squishes the flame under his shoe. 

“L/n, right?” he asks, keeping the conversation alive no matter how much you wish it would die. 

You nod. 

“Y/n?” Your first name surprises you. He takes a, what you assume is unconscious, step towards you, fingers dancing on the railing. 

“Yeah,” you murmur, nodding to yourself. Without a doubt you know who he is, yet you still feel the need to ask. It just seems polite. “Riddle?” 

“Mattheo,” he corrects lightly, much closer to you than he used to be. 

“Oh.” 

A beat passes between you both. As you try to avoid him and the silence, he takes the opportunity to gaze over you and your stupid little pajamas. You’re pretty, he’d give you that. 

Breaking the silence, he strolls away from you, hands in the pockets of his sweatpants as he walks toward the stairs. “I’ll see you around, L/n.” 

With your attention on him, he turns, giving you one last one-over before sighing and shaking his head whilst continuing down the stairs.  

Hearing the final creak from the last step of the stairs and the patter of his feet become distance, you almost collapse, holding yourself up with the railing. You throw your arms over the rail, and then dug your palms into your eyes. “Fuck me,” you groan, trying to convince yourself not to throw yourself off the astronomy tower. 

Now seems like the perfect time to go to bed.

Ever since that night in the astronomy tower two weeks ago, Mattheo Riddle had become unavoidable.

The boy who rarely visited class now seemed to be approaching perfect attendance. For his standards at least.

Like today, in every class you had him in, he was alert, intimidating, and unapproachable. Snarky comments left his mouth like a waterfall, and his eyes wandered to you so often you could feel the burn of his gaze before you caught him staring.

Mattheo’s glares we’re one thing you’d found yourself accustomed to, or more specifically the goosebumps that littered your body, and the fire on the back of your neck. The relief of having him sat behind you in Transfiguration rather than next you didn’t last long.

With a glance behind you, you see him in the same very position he was about five minutes ago; head in his hand, pulling on a strand of his own hair, as his eyes glance between you and whatever he had been writing or doodling on a piece of parchment. When his eyes catch yours, they become ablaze, and you’re greeted with a familiar smirk (or smile, you can’t really tell the difference).

You whip your head around quickly, flushed, and ridiculing yourself for getting caught looking at him.

The moment Professor McGonagall dismisses the class, your packing up, as quickly as possible, but apparently not quick enough.

As students in front of you rush out of class, you’re right behind them. When your past the doors, you sigh, watching students disperse around you until your not.

A hand swallowing your wrist startles you, and when you turn to the owner of it, Mattheo looks down at you, eyes like a puppy.

“You haven’t been to the Astronomy tower in a while?” he starts off, standing big in front of you with a gentle grip on your wrist.

A little dazed you say, “I didn’t know I was supposed to.”

His eyebrows twitch for a second before he smiles at you (definitely not smirking). “Of course you are,” he chuckles. “I get a little lonely.”

”Oh,” you babble, beginning to nimble on your lip. Unsure, you say, “I’ll go some time soon then.”

He hums, eyes flickering to your lips. “Good. What class do you have next.”

For a second you hesitate. “Potions.”

Mattheo hums again, tugging his Slytherin tie looser.

“I’ll walk you there,” he insists, slipping your books into his hands, placing them in one of his hands placing them against his hip.

“Oh no, you don’t have to do that—!”

“Yeah, I do.” He shrugs, “Plus, it’s on my way. I’m skipping my next class.”

How do you argue with that?

“Come on,” he urges, tilting his head at you with a handsome smile. “Maybe, I’ll convince you I’m not that scary.”

That makes you smile. You try to hide your smile by looking at the floor, but you’re blushing when you look up at him. “We’ll see.”

He was very convincing, you’d give him that. Maybe that’s why you kept your word and showed up to the Astronomy tower a fews days later, but who knows.

What you did know is that you could see him, leaning on the railing, a cigarette in his mouth, and a fresh cut on his nose.

You had heard about the fight. The fight between him and some Gryffindor’s name you can’t even remember. You heard how he won, by a long shot. Strangely enough, this didn’t scare you off like you thought it. In fact, it kinda made you want to see him more.

“You know, smokings bad for you,” you greeted, leaning beside him on the railing almost close enough for you elbows to touch.

Mattheo smiled, turning towards you. “A lot of things are.”

“Can I try?” you asked.

His eyebrows furrowed, but his smile didn’t leave his face. “Isn’t it bad for you?” he teases.

You shrugged, “I’m curious.” Mattheo hummed, taking another drag. “So can I?”

“No,” he laughed, shaking his head.

“‘No?’” you repeated. “Why not?”

“I don’t want your pretty little lungs to get hurt,” he says.

Pretty? you want to ask, but you choose to roll your eyes instead and focus on the cut on is nose. Impulsively, you reach out to touch it and feel the soft skin surrounding it. Mattheo watches you with a bizarre expression, but doesn’t say anything, even when you pull away quickly, clearing your throat and turning back to stare off the edge of the tower.

It’s quiet until Matteo softly asks, “You really want to try it?”

“Huh?”

He gestures to the cigarette in his hand.

“Oh!” you exclaim, nodding “I— yeah, sure. sure.”

Without missing a beat he says, “Come closer then.”

Hesitantly, you do as told, standing in front of the slightly older boy as he takes a drag from his cigarette. Slowly, hands comes on to your face gently cradling it, and you hope that he doesn’t hear the way you suck in a breathe. His eyes flutter as he comes closer, and so do yours. When his thumb brushes your lips, you open part your lips without a second thought. He’s so close that your noses bump. You expect him to kiss you. You kinda (definitely) want him to.

What you didn’t expect was the smoke blowing past your lips and the coughing fit that was now happening.

Next to you, Mattheo laughs, his own laughter turning into a coughing fit of his own when you turn back to him with a wild expression.

“Why’d you do that?” you exclaim, shoving his shoulder away from you to continue to clear your throat.

“What did you think I was gonna do?” he laughs, words simple although you swore he knew what you were thinking.

“Nothing.” You coughed one last time, holding your throat. “Fuck, that sucked.”

“Told you,” Mattheo hums. He steps closer, eyes trailing down your chest. “Your poor little lungs,” he tuts.

You can’t help, but giggle, opening your mouth to retort back when you hear a creak. Both you and Mattheo go silent, listening. The dark low echoes of a voice saying “where to my sweet” have your head quietly spinning to Mattheo.

“Filch,” you whisper, panic settling.

Mattheo looks calm when he nods, hand circling your wrist to carefully pull you down the stairs. At the bottom, he presses you both against the wall, him on one side beside you as he peaks past it, looking for Filch. He hisses a curse under his breath.

“What? What’s wrong?” you ask.

Mattheo uses his free hand to rake through his hair. “You’re gonna have to trust me on this one, alright?” he says. “You trust me?”

“Yeah,” you nod, rapidly, licking your lips. “Yeah, I trust you.”

“Okay. Run!” he shouts, tugging your wrist and pulling you with him as he runs down the hall. You’re quick to catch up with him, hand shifting into his as you dash away from shouts from Filch behind you. When you and Mattheo turn the corridor corner, you quickly pressed to the wall.

“What?” you ask, looking into Mattheo’s dark eyes before you see his hand reach for something. A door knob.

“Go,” he says, pushing you toward the door. You can hear Filch’s shouts getting closer. “Come on, Sweetheart,” Mattheo whispers, looking down at you. You ignore the blush rising on your cheeks. He smirks at the sight of it. “Let me take the fall.”

With a nudge, he’s pushing you into the broom closet, ready to close it. Filch’s shouts are right around the corner. “I’ll see you around?” he asks, smile wide.

“You can see me now,” you say, grabbing his hand, tugging him in with you.

You slam the door shut, the ricochet causing a pot to shatter at your feet, but that can’t seem to grasp your attention, not when you and Mattheo are pressed chest to chest, him towering over you, and his arms trapping you against a shelf in the very, very tight space you’ve trapped yourself in.

It’s silent except for your heavy breaths as you two listen to Filch’s murmurs and curses as he walks past your spot, heading further down the corridor in search for the two of you.

“Sorry,” you murmur, trying your hardest to avoid eye contact when that’s all he wanted in the moment, among other things.

Mattheo chuckles, adjusting his stance in an effort to get more comfortable, only getting more closer to you. Same thing, i guess. “Don’t worry about it, but if you wanted me that bad you could’ve just asked.” He shrugs.

“Woah,” you babble. “I didn’t— I don’t, I just didn’t want either of us to get into an trouble.”

Mattheo nods along with what your saying tauntingly, eyes not leaving yours for a second as you ramble. “Oh, yeah. Totally. No other reason to pull me along into this small broom closet with you.”

“Yeah,” you lie. “No other reason.”

“Hmm.” Mattheo dips his head, nose so close to yours that they could bump. “So you don’t want me to kiss you right now,” he asks mockingly.

Instead of answering his question with words, you push yourself on your tippy toes, pushing your lips together. Mattheo responds immediately, one hand flying to the back of your neck and the other to your tightly grip your waist.

“Fuck,” he pants, forehead resting on yours. “Been wanting to do that since your pretty ass came up to the astronomy tower.”

“Really?”

“Yes,” he states. “And I think I might do that more often, yeah?”

Nodding, Mattheo smiles at you before creating distance between you both and opening the closet door. He peeks out, checking for filch before nodding his head, gesturing for you to follow him. The two of you make your way out of the broom closet, his arm over your shoulder as he walks you both back to the Slytherin common room.

and done ✔️ love my bae mattheo so here you go

SEUNGKWAN - The Devil's Plan CHARACTER TEASER