𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐎𝐍

𐙚 ˙ ⋆.˚ BOYS OF TOMMEN MASTERLIST

➳ navigation. main masterlist.

➳ GERARD GIBSON;

[…]

➳ PATRICK FEELY;

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➳ JOHNNY KAVANAGH;

[…]

➳ JOEY LYNCH;

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➳ AOIFE MOLLOY;

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➳ HUGHIE BIGGS;

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© gibsluv 𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝚍𝚘 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚛𝚎𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚝, 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚐𝚒𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚣𝚎, 𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚊𝚕, 𝚘𝚛 𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚜𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝚖𝚢

─ .✦ DAY TWO | [02/15] : MATTHEO.

prythian's princess presents... day two of the valentine special ⋆.˚ .ᐟ please give a big round of applause as we welcome mattheo into the mix. the true definition of bloody, slutty, and pathetic.

[blood kink] — an unconventional sexual interest in blood. people with a blood kink may be aroused by seeing, touching, or tasting blood.

[knife play] — a form of consensual bdsm edgeplay involving knives, daggers, and swords as a source of physical and mental stimulation.

home ✦ special ✦ more

there was something seriously wrong with mattheo riddle.

within him was a festering desire, an insatiable craving that he could neither deny nor satisfy. his appetite hungered for something dark, depraved, and demented, an abomination yearning to be fulfilled. mattheo never thought that he would unleash the monster within him.

until you.

most of the time, he was able to control it, but sometimes mattheo just needed release and you were the perfect person to give it to him.

pretty brown eyes blinked down at you, his gaze clouded with lust and desire as mattheo dragged the tip of his dagger down your body. you were stripped bare and spread out so prettily for him, your wrists bound above your head with his emerald and silver tie. you bit your lip as the sharp edge of his blade caressed your skin like a lover's embrace.

it always amazed him how eager you were, how responsive your body was to the depraved acts that he inflicted upon you. anyone else would have balked at the carnality of his nature, but you seemed enthralled by every fucked up thing that mattheo desired. probably because you were just as fucked up as he was.

even now, you moaned in pleasure as mattheo carved his initials into your inner thigh. a normal person would have ran for the hills at the question he had posed at the beginning of the night, but mattheo had seen the glimmer in your eyes. the absence of judgment as you undressed and presented your body to him without hesitation.

"do you like it when I carve you up, baby?" mattheo hummed, his heavy lidded gaze examining his work with appreciation.

"yes," you answered in a breathy voice. "make me yours, matty."

mattheo sucked in a breath. the blood rushed out his head and straight to his cock. “I will, princess. after tonight, everyone will know who you belong to.”

as he traced his fingers over the m and r permanently carved into your skin, mattheo felt the monster within him sigh in satisfaction. the constant buzzing of his thoughts stopped all at once at the sight of his initials slashed onto your flesh like a brand. a declaration that you belonged to him and him alone.

his kisses were a searing brand against your lips, full of affection and devotion. mattheo murmured whispers of praise as he dragged his dagger down your body, grazing your nipples ever so slightly. you tensed at the sensation, but never once faltered in your trust that mattheo wouldn’t harm you. dark eyes flickered with delight as you smiled up at him, so serene and peaceful even though you were entirely at his mercy.

mattheo settled between your thighs, his eager lips sucking up the blood dripping from the scars. “so fucking perfect,” he praised. “you look so pretty wearing my name.”

you moaned as he trailed hot, open-mouthed kisses on your thighs, his dark eyes glimmering wickedly as he hooked your legs over his shoulders. his gaze remained on you as he sucked hard on your clit. the sensation felt heavenly, making you arch your back on the mattress. mattheo held your hips down as he french kissed your pussy, the stroke of his tongue massaging your folds in a way that made your head spin.

the lower half of his face was covered in crimson, but he didn’t let the blood deter him from the task at hand. if anything, the mess made him hornier than he already was. mattheo rutted against the bed as he slipped his tongue inside of you, fucking you with his mouth with a steady rhythm. the scars on your thigh welted with blood and stained everything — his nose, his mouth, his jaw was covered with it. the entire thing was so unbelievably fucked up, but he couldn’t help but be so fucking turned on by the depravity of it all.

“matty, oh god,” you panted, tugging at his curls as he brought you closer to your orgasm.

“look at you,” mattheo drawled. “such a fucking mess for me. letting me eat you out with your blood all over my face. you’re just as fucked in the head as I am, aren’t you, baby?”

“yes, yes, oh god, yes.” mattheo flicked his tongue on your clit back and forth, stimulating the bundle of nerve until you keened and arched against his mouth. “oh fuck, baby, i’m coming…”

the pressure on your lower abdomen was too much and you released it all at once, liquid gushing all over the sheets. dark eyes flickered up to your face, drinking in the way you looked as you squirted into his mouth. mattheo thought that you were the perfect picture of sin, eyes rolling back, thighs squeezing him in place, back arching off the bed as you came.

“you’re fucking filthy, baby,” mattheo said with a dark chuckle. “if I knew this was all it took to make you squirt, I would’ve asked to carve you up sooner.”

“i’ve never — i’ve never done that before,” you declared incredulously. “I didn’t even think I could squirt.”

“now that I know that you can, i’m gonna fuck you until you squirt all over my cock.”

mattheo’s mouth glistened with your blood and cum as he held his dagger against your throat. the silver steel kept you in place as mattheo unbuckled his belt, throwing his head back as he pumped his hard cock. you whimpered underneath him, wanting nothing more than to touch and taste and feel him. mattheo tutted, pressing his dagger down until tears of crimson dribbled down your breasts.

“stay still, princess,” mattheo commanded as he continued pumping himself. he chuckled darkly to himself when you released a shaky breath, careful not to cut yourself any further. “what am I saying? you’re not going anywhere, baby.”

FUCK YES YES YES YES YES

— bodyguard!mattheo

bodyguard!mattheo – your new bodyguard who is, by pure coincidence, just around your age. works out every day like there’s no tomorrow, yet you could easily catch him smoking and drinking in the security room of your huge house. reflexes faster than those of a snake. barely ever talks, but whenever he does, gods, his voice… you can’t help but wonder if subordination is really that important.

navigation ; masterlists ; mattheo m.list ; bodyguard!mattheo

۶ৎ boyfriend’s brother!mattheo eating you out while tom’s in the shower

boyfriend’s brother mattheo x fem reader warnings ; 18+ mdni, oral f!recieving, fingering, cheating boyfriend’s brother mattheo moodboard

navigation. au collection. m.list. bfb!mattheo.

you don’t know how it got this far. or maybe you do. 

you don’t even have time to think, not when mattheo’s got you exactly where he wants you—sprawled out on tom’s bed, your thighs trembling in his grip, his mouth pressed against your cunt like it’s his last fucking meal. his tongue is relentless, messy and eager, flicking against your clit before dragging down to fuck into you, obscene sounds filling the room with every desperate, sloppy lick.

“mattheo—” your voice is a strangled whisper, your fingers pulling at his curls, like you’re not sure whether you’re trying to push him away or pull him closer.

“oh, now you remember my name?” he taunts, pulling back just enough to look up at you through dark lashes. his chin is glistening with your arousal, eyes gleaming with something dangerous. “that’s funny. thought it was ‘tom, tom, tom’ with you.”

“you’re a dick.”

“mm. but i’m the one with my tongue on your pussy, not him.” he punctuates his words with a slow, deliberate drag of his tongue, swirling it over your clit just to hear your breath hitch. “what does that say about you, sweetheart? you know my brother’s right there.”

panic flares in your chest, your head snapping toward the bathroom door. tom’s still in the shower, the sound of running water muffling everything, but not enough. not if you keep making noise like this. “mattheo, we—we can’t—”

“we already are.” his voice is thick with amusement, fingers digging into your thighs as he tilts his head, dragging his tongue in slow circles around your clit. “fuckin’ soaked, princess. all that talk about how much you love my brother, yet look at you.” he presses a kiss to your inner thigh, all mockery, all smug satisfaction. “letting me eat you out on his bed.”

your stomach tightens, shame curling through you, but not enough to stop you from rocking your hips against his mouth when he slides two fingers inside of you, curling them just right. your back arches off the mattress, a broken moan slipping past your lips before you can stop it.

mattheo tsks, pulling back just enough to meet your gaze. his lips are shining with you, his chin dripping, and the way he’s looking at you makes your stomach flip. like he owns you. like he’s already won. “so fuckin’ easy,” he mutters, pumping his fingers slow, deep. his thumb presses against your clit, rubbing light, teasing circles that have your thighs shaking. “thought you’d put up more of a fight.”

“fuck you,” you hiss, but it comes out breathy, wrecked, and he grins.

“yeah, we’ll do that too.” he buries his face between your legs again, tongue flicking, fingers thrusting, and your hands fly to your mouth, desperate to muffle the moans spilling from your lips. but he’s not having it. he yanks one of your hands away, pinning it to your stomach, his other hand still gripping your thigh open. “don’t you fuckin’ dare,” he growls. “i wanna hear you. wanna hear every little sound you make.”

your head tips back against the pillows, your free hand twisting in the sheets. “mattheo—oh my god—”

“c’mon, princess. cum on my tongue,” he urges, voice thick with hunger, with something darker, something possessive. he sucks your clit between his lips, and the coil in your stomach snaps, pleasure slamming into you so hard you forget everything—where you are, who you’re supposed to be loyal to. the only thing that exists is mattheo’s mouth, his hands, the low, satisfied chuckle he lets out as he watches you fall apart beneath him.

he doesn’t stop until you’re squirming away, too sensitive, your breath coming in quick, uneven gasps. only then does he pull back, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, his dark eyes gleaming.

he leans over you, caging you in, lips brushing against your ear as he whispers, “go clean yourself up, princess. wouldn’t want tom to see you like this, yeah?”

and just like that, he’s gone, slipping out the door like he was never there, leaving you wrecked, panting, and stained with the taste of betrayal.

© leona-hawthorne 2025. please do not copy, translate or repost any of my writing.

i have placed something on you, just beneath your skin, just deep enough that they feel it when they come too close. a whisper of warning, a quiet hum of possession.

i’m actually unwell… this is so beautiful

letter 3 — i cursed the ones who touched you

── . ❥ letters m.list

this letter appeared in your coat pocket. it was not there this morning. you do not remember putting it there.

—

sweetheart,

tell me, have you noticed?

how they forget you so quickly? how their interest in you fades before it can truly begin? have you ever wondered why their affections wilt, why they hesitate when they reach for you, why their eyes never seem to linger long enough?

you thought it was something you did. something wrong with you.

it was never you.

it was me.

i have placed something on you, just beneath your skin, just deep enough that they feel it when they come too close. a whisper of warning, a quiet hum of possession.

they will never love you, because i have decided they will not.

and i do not regret it.

yours, the only one who ever will. t.m.r.

—

💌 this is letter 3 of 6. new letters will appear every few nights. you shouldn’t read them. you will anyway.

✒️ taglist? reblog & whisper his name in the tags to be notified. he will hear you.

ಇ do i wanna know, hozier cover.

pairing. mattheo riddle x hufflepuff!quiet!reader

summary. sometimes, pansy knows exactly how to bring couples together. when mattheo, known for his grumpy mood, finds himself growing closer to a quiet, introspective girl, he must come to terms with feelings he never expected to have.

warnings. a bit of suggestive scene, but nothing explicit

add notes. I feel like my dialogues would never be said in real life.

visit my masterlist :)

ಇ

It was Pansy Parkinson’s birthday. The Parkinson Manor was a spectacle—a grand, ancient, and imposing structure, surrounded by meticulously tended trees. Its tall stone towers stood in stark contrast to the ethereal silver of the moon on that autumnal night, while the crisp air carried the fresh, melancholy scent of fallen leaves. The entrance hall sparkled with the glow of greenish lights that reflected off the polished marble floor. Music flowed through the vast corridors of the manor, mingling with the voices and laughter of the guests. Pansy never did anything halfway, and her seventeenth birthday party was no exception.

The main hall was teeming with Hogwarts students, predominantly Slytherins, although a few figures from other houses stood out, strategically placed. Groups gathered around enchanted tables laden with exquisite appetisers, while others chatted or danced in the centre of the hall beneath the enchanting glow of chandeliers and floating magical candles.

Mattheo Riddle leaned against a wall near the fireplace. His spot had been carefully chosen, allowing him to observe the entire room without drawing attention to himself. A glass of some drink—nearly forgotten in his hand—served more as a distraction than a necessity. His eyes scanned the scene with the detached air of someone watching a mediocre play, clearly indifferent to the excitement around him. He despised parties, but Pansy had been emphatic: “If you don’t show up, I’ll never invite you to anything again, and you’ll have to live with that.”

And so, here he was, enduring the loud music, empty chatter, and the unbearable feeling of being out of place.

The room buzzed with familiar faces: Blaise was chatting with Daphne near the makeshift bar, Draco was laughing at something Theodore had said in a secluded corner, and at the centre of it all, Pansy shone like a star, greeting her guests with a smile that was as rehearsed as it was charming.

Mattheo let out a deep sigh, raising the glass to his lips and sipping half-heartedly, merely to occupy himself. His thoughts drifted to the garden, which promised a quiet, solitary escape—perfect for smoking a cigarette far from the noise and frivolity of the hall.

You entered the party hesitantly, your measured steps and reserved posture betraying your unease. Your eyes scanned the room cautiously, taking in every detail before allowing yourself to fully step in. You clutched a small, delicately wrapped gift in your hands, your arms tucked close to your body as if forming a barrier against the chaos around you.

This wasn’t your kind of place—not in a bad way, just different from what you were used to. Your hair, styled in a carefully crafted half-updo, fell in soft waves over your shoulders, catching the golden light of the chandeliers and the greenish glow of the magical candles scattered around the room. Your pastel yellow dress, a nod to your Hufflepuff identity, was graceful and perfectly suited to the occasion, modest yet elegant without being over the top.

Stepping inside, you carefully shut the door behind you with a soft thud, masked by the music filling the air. You looked around attentively, moving with the grace of someone trying to avoid drawing attention. Your eyes landed on Pansy, who, upon noticing your arrival, quickly made her way over, a radiant smile lighting up her face.

“I’m so glad you came! I’ve been waiting for you,” Pansy exclaimed excitedly, and you smiled shyly, offering her the neatly wrapped gift. She took it with equal enthusiasm and, without missing a beat, guided you with a gentle touch on your arm, introducing you to her closest friends, most of whom you didn’t know—predominantly Slytherins. To anyone watching from afar, you might have seemed out of place, but you nodded politely, feeling quietly pleased to be surrounded by the friends of your close companion.

You tried to adjust to the atmosphere. The party was loud and full of people, but you knew this was exactly the kind of event Pansy loved, and it had been hard to turn down her insistence—especially on such an important occasion as her seventeenth birthday. What you hadn’t anticipated, however, was the intensity of it all: the loud laughter, the conversations about topics you barely understood or didn’t care about, and the overwhelmingly high volume of the music.

“Relax,” Pansy whispered in your ear, giving your shoulder a light squeeze as she noticed your discomfort. “You’re going to have fun, I promise.”

Her words carried a hint of something unspoken, though you didn’t catch it immediately. She continued introducing you to her friends, eventually steering you toward a more secluded corner near the fireplace, where Mattheo Riddle stood leaning against the wall, his expression bored, as though he were merely fulfilling an obligation. Holding a half-filled glass in one hand, his grey eyes scanned the room with disinterest.

“Mattheo!” Pansy’s voice interrupted his reverie, casual but still confident. “I want you to meet someone. This is my friend [Name]. [Name], this is Mattheo.”

Pansy smiled, looking far too pleased with the situation. “I’m sure you two will get along wonderfully!”

“Uh… hi,” you said softly, offering a timid smile as you tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, revealing a delicate gold moon-shaped earring that Mattheo noticed with mild indifference.

“Hi,” he replied curtly, his tone brief and aloof.

Pansy watched the exchange, clearly unimpressed by the lack of enthusiasm. “Did you know that [Name] loves taking care of magical creatures? And Mattheo, you have an impressive tolerance for people who talk too much—aren’t you two a perfect match?”

“Funny, Pansy,” Mattheo remarked, narrowing his eyes and tilting his head with a trace of amusement in his otherwise dry tone.

“Thanks, it was sincere,” Pansy quipped with a playful grin before stepping away with a conspiratorial air. “Enjoy yourselves!”

With one last smile, she left you both alone, disappearing into the crowd.

For a moment, the sound of the music and the chatter around you filled the silence as you, uneasy with the quiet, fidgeted with the star-shaped pendant on your necklace.

“So…” you began cautiously, looking at Mattheo. “Do you not like parties in general, or just the people who talk too much?”

The question caught him off guard, and he raised an eyebrow, taking a moment to think before answering. “Depends on the party. And the people.”

You let out a soft, almost inaudible laugh, but it was genuine. “I get that. This isn’t really my kind of place either.”

“Then why’d you come?” Mattheo asked, his tone casual but curious, as if waiting for your answer without much urgency.

“Pansy insisted,” you admitted with a small shrug. “And you?”

“Same.”

At that, you felt a little more at ease, tilting your head slightly towards him. “Well, at least we’ve got that in common.”

“Besides Pansy,” he added, a faint smirk tugging at his lips as he warmed to the idea that the conversation wasn’t as tedious as he’d expected.

The silence returned, but this time it felt less strained. You leaned against the wall beside him, gazing up at the ceiling, where floating candles with green flames illuminated the room alongside the warm, golden glow of the grand chandelier, while Mattheo’s eyes followed the movement of the partygoers.

Feeling slightly overwhelmed by the commotion, you noticed the atmosphere beginning to feel heavier. The grand and magical hall, while impressive, didn’t make you feel at ease. Mattheo, seemingly indifferent to the pressure of the space, appeared entirely unbothered. So, you decided to suggest something.

“How about we head out to the garden?” you asked timidly, looking up at him. “It’s… quieter, maybe?”

Mattheo, still leaning against the wall with his usual impassive expression, raised an eyebrow. “You really think the garden will be quiet, considering how many people are here?”

You smiled, slightly embarrassed. “It’s worth a try, I guess.”

With a sigh, he slipped a hand into his pocket and pushed himself off the wall, nodding. “Fine. Let’s go.”

The Parkinson mansion’s garden was undeniably stunning, but you barely noticed the perfectly trimmed hedges shaped into geometric designs or the softly glowing magical flowers. Your attention was more on the refreshing coolness of the night air and the silence—a welcome contrast to the chaos inside the hall.

The two of you walked in silence for a while. Mattheo observed you discreetly, noticing how your fingers gently brushed against the petals of the flowers along the path, as if you were connecting with their textures and details. There was no urgency in your steps, and eventually, you reached a secluded corner near an ornate fountain illuminated by floating candles casting dancing reflections on the water. He stopped by a tree, crossing his arms and tilting his head back to look at the starry sky.

“Do you always go to Pansy’s parties?” you asked, finally breaking the silence as you strolled slowly, examining the plants with more interest.

“Not a chance,” he replied with a short laugh, as if the idea were absurd. “I try to avoid them, but she’s always got these… oddly persuasive arguments.”

“Like what?” you pressed, curious.

“Like, ‘if you don’t come, I’ll tell everyone you sketch people in your notebook like a frustrated artist,’” he said, smirking slightly.

You blinked, surprised at the confession, then let out a soft laugh. “You draw?”

Mattheo shrugged, almost defensive. “Sometimes. It’s not a big deal.”

“It doesn’t sound like something to be embarrassed about,” you said simply, your tone free of judgment. Kneeling beside a bush of blueberries that seemed particularly enchanting, their tiny fruits shimmering under the magical light, you added, “Actually, it sounds pretty interesting.”

He frowned slightly, as if unsure how to respond, before muttering, “You haven’t seen it.”

“Maybe,” you replied with a small smile, still studying the delicate berries. “But it’s good to have a hobby. Everyone should have one.”

He remained quiet, thoughtful, as he watched you. There was something about you that felt disconnected from the party—yet perfectly at home here in the garden. The calmness in your movements, even when you seemed shy or slightly flustered, struck him as unusual.

“So, what’s your hobby?” he asked, breaking the silence this time.

You took a moment before answering, as if reflecting. “I suppose it’s taking care of magical creatures… They don’t need explanations. You just feel and understand them.”

He raised an eyebrow, surprised by the clarity in your answer, but didn’t comment straight away. It was rare for someone to talk about something so simple with such genuine passion.

“Fair enough,” he finally said, his voice free of sarcasm but still lacking much emotion, as though he were processing your words.

The silence returned, though it was comfortable now—almost natural. Yet, your curiosity about him grew too strong to ignore.

“Do you go to these parties often?”

“Not at all,” he replied, his tone carrying a faint hint of amusement. “Just every now and then. Pansy’s good at twisting my arm. If I don’t show up, she starts predicting my social death.”

You chuckled lightly, your gaze shifting to him rather than the garden around you. “And you always give in?”

“I’m not great at resisting emotional blackmail,” he admitted with a short, slightly insincere smile. There was a coldness in his comment, as though he didn’t place much value on his presence here. “Pansy has a way of turning invitations into ultimatums.”

The floating candles swayed gently around the fountain, their light casting dancing shadows on the stone. You took a step aside, feeling the cool night breeze against your skin. After a few moments of light-hearted conversation, you realised the dialogue had run its course.

“Maybe we should head back,” you suggested, breaking the silence. “Before Pansy comes looking for us.”

He remained silent for a moment, his gaze fixed on you. His expression still carried a hint of seriousness, but his eyes had softened somewhat.

“Maybe you’re right,” he finally said, the faintest trace of a smile on his lips. “But you decide when to go back, not me.”

You chuckled softly, shyly, as though the conversation had taken an unexpected turn, though it didn’t bother you. “Alright then. Let’s go.”

ಇ

The Slytherin common room was bathed in a cosy silence, broken only by the gentle crackle of the fire. The flames cast flickering shadows across the stone walls, creating an atmosphere that felt entirely separate from the rest of the castle. Mattheo was sprawled across one of the black leather sofas, his posture completely at ease, as though he belonged to the room itself. He twirled his wand idly between his fingers, his sharp gaze lazily drifting over the surroundings, disinterested.

The peace was interrupted by the unmistakable sound of firm, purposeful footsteps echoing off the cold floor. Mattheo didn’t look up—he didn’t need to. Pansy Parkinson always made her presence known. She strode into the room with the kind of authority that promised trouble, her eyes glinting with determination.

“Riddle,” she started, stopping in front of him with her hands firmly planted on her hips. “Saturday. Hogsmeade. You’re coming with me. Theo, Blaise, Luna, and [Name] will be there too.”

Mattheo didn’t even glance up, continuing to spin his wand between his fingers. His lips curved into a faint smirk. “No.”

“No?” Pansy echoed, raising an eyebrow, her expression morphing into one of incredulity. The set of her jaw only made her look more stubborn. “Come on, you haven’t even heard what I—”

“I’ve heard enough,” he cut her off, finally lifting his gaze to meet hers. His voice was dry, laced with boredom. “And the answer is still no. I’m not going, I don’t want to, and I’m not changing my mind.”

Pansy let out a heavy sigh, though the self-satisfied smile creeping onto her lips only deepened Mattheo’s irritation. “You say that now, but come Saturday, you’ll be there.”

Mattheo let out a short, humourless laugh. “Pansy, I’d love to see you try. I’m not Theo, who does everything you say just because he thinks you’re ‘cute.’”

“Thanks for the compliment,” Pansy shot back, her tone dripping with sarcasm as she crossed her arms. “Is this about [Name]? I saw you talking to her in the garden. You actually looked… sociable.”

“And? We exchanged a few words. That doesn’t mean anything.” His tone hardened as he narrowed his eyes, clearly irritated. Leaning back into the sofa, he added flatly, “If this is some attempt to set me up with someone, just give up now. You know I hate that.”

“Merlin, you’re dramatic,” Pansy scoffed, rolling her eyes. “No one’s setting you up. [Name] doesn’t even care if you’re there, to be honest.”

“Brilliant,” he replied, sarcasm dripping from his voice. “All the more reason for me not to go.”

Pansy let out a long-suffering sigh, though a mischievous smile tugged at her lips. “I know you, Mattheo. You say you won’t go, but come Saturday, you’ll end up tagging along with Blaise and Theo anyway. You need to connect with the world once in a while, you know.”

“I’m perfectly connected right here, thanks,” he shot back, gesturing around the room before rolling his eyes again. “I’d rather stay here than deal with people who think I owe them the courtesy of being interesting.”

Pansy tilted her head slightly, as though considering his words. “You’re so full of yourself. She’s not even thinking about you like that. And you know what? Maybe you should try acting normal around people who don’t fear you because of your surname.”

Mattheo huffed, but before he could muster a retort, Pansy was already making her way up the stairs to the girls’ dormitory. She threw a parting remark over her shoulder, her voice bright with smug amusement. “Saturday, Mattheo. Be there, or I’ll add this to my list of lifelong grudges!”

He stayed where he was, his gaze falling back to the wand in his fingers. It spun faster now, less smoothly than before. Pansy was wrong. He wasn’t going. And if [Name] didn’t care whether he came or not, that was fine by him. A relief, really. A big relief.

ಇ

The streets of Hogsmeade buzzed with chatter and laughter, the crunch of footsteps in the snow, and the sweet smell of warm drinks wafting out of nearby shops. Despite the lively atmosphere, Mattheo would still take this over the castle any day—at least here he wasn’t constantly followed by stares and whispers. He walked with his hands stuffed deep into the pockets of his black overcoat, his expression bored, though his sharp eyes missed nothing.

“So,” Blaise started, nudging Theo with his elbow. “Whose brilliant idea was it to drag him out here? Thought Mattheo was allergic to socialising.”

“Don’t start,” Mattheo muttered without even glancing at them. “I’m only here because someone wouldn’t shut up about how this was going to be ‘fun.’”

Theo laughed, unbothered. “It is fun. You should be thanking me.”

Mattheo opened his mouth to fire back but was cut off as the three of them rounded a corner and found themselves face-to-face with Pansy, Luna, and [Name] standing outside the Three Broomsticks.

“Oh, what are you lot doing here?” Pansy exclaimed, her voice dripping with faux surprise. Only Mattheo caught the teasing glint in her eye.

“Pansy,” he began, narrowing his eyes. “Don’t even try it.”

“Try what?” She blinked at him innocently. “This is pure coincidence.”

Mattheo was about to argue when his attention was pulled to Blaise and Luna. The moment they spotted each other, Luna lit up with a bright smile, and Blaise… Well, he looked like someone had hit him with a softening charm. It was rare to see him like that—genuinely smitten.

Luna stepped closer immediately, lightly tugging Blaise by the arm as she spoke. Whatever she said made him laugh, low and almost shy, a side of him Mattheo hardly ever saw. Blaise was usually so composed, but with Luna, he seemed… different.

That’s when it hit Mattheo. This wasn’t some trap for him. It was for them.

He glanced at Theo, who was watching the scene with a smug smile. Theo shrugged in response, as if to say, Don’t look at me, this wasn’t my idea.

Pansy, however, wasn’t even trying to hide her satisfaction, though she kept her focus firmly on Luna and Blaise.

Mattheo sighed quietly. Right. Maybe he’d been wrong. Maybe this whole outing really was just about those two.

But then his eyes landed on you. You stood a little behind Pansy, a small, almost shy smile playing on your lips as you watched Blaise and Luna. You didn’t seem out of place, exactly—just quiet, like someone unsure where they fit into the group dynamic.

He looked away before you noticed, but Pansy, ever observant, caught the movement.

“Well,” she said, a sly smile tugging at her lips. “Since we’re all here, why don’t we do something together?”

Mattheo was already preparing to decline, but something stopped him. Maybe it was the way you, distracted, reached out to catch the falling snowflakes in your hand, that soft, almost enchanted smile still on your face.

He frowned. What was so special about snow, anyway?

“Relax, Riddle,” Pansy said, pulling him back to reality. “I didn’t plan this.”

“You planned this,” he replied flatly.

“And if I did?” She held her hands up, her smile infuriatingly casual. “It’s not the end of the world. Try being social for once.”

Before he could respond, Theo slung an arm casually around his shoulders, as if to stop him from bolting. “Not every day we hang out with such a… diverse group.”

Mattheo rolled his eyes but didn’t bother arguing. Judging by how glued Blaise and Luna were to each other, it was pointless. Still, the way Pansy kept glancing at you before whispering something to Theo made him suspicious.

You, meanwhile, seemed completely oblivious to it all. You adjusted your scarf, your attention caught by a nearby shop window where tiny enchanted ice figurines were dancing.

“Alright,” Theo said, breaking the moment of silence. “So, what’s first on the agenda?”

Mattheo let out a heavy sigh and glanced over at you. You were standing a bit apart from the group, but somehow, your eyes met his. A small, tentative smile crossed your face, the kind that seemed unsure of its place, before you quickly looked away.

He considered walking away, but something made him stay. Maybe it was the sense that Pansy would never let him hear the end of it if he left.

“The Three Broomsticks?” he suggested, his voice laced with reluctance. “If we’re doing this, might as well get it over with.”

Pansy’s smile widened, like she knew exactly what he was thinking, but to his annoyance, she said nothing.

ಇ

The Three Broomsticks was as crowded as Mattheo had expected. The buzz of conversations and laughter mingled with the clatter of mugs and the sweet smell of butterbeer, creating a lively, almost chaotic atmosphere. For most, it was a place to forget about the pressures of school, but for Mattheo, it felt suffocating. He stood near the entrance, hands shoved deep into the pockets of his coat, ready to leave at any moment.

“See? Told you this would be fun,” Theo said, flashing a carefree grin as he dropped into a chair beside Pansy.

“If this is your idea of fun, I’d rather be back at the castle,” Mattheo replied flatly, choosing the chair furthest from the table.

Pansy, ever the orchestrator, settled in beside Theo and shot a smug look at Mattheo. “Oh, stop being dramatic. You’ll survive.”

Luna and Blaise took their seats next, the pair seemingly lost in their own little world. Blaise leaned in to whisper something, and Luna let out a soft, musical laugh. Mattheo rolled his eyes.

“They’ve already forgotten we’re here,” he muttered, tapping a keyring against the table in an almost absentminded rhythm.

Pansy smirked. “Leave them be. They’re cute.”

Mattheo huffed but didn’t bother replying. His eyes drifted across the room, eventually landing on you. You had chosen a seat near the window, detached from the group’s chatter. The soft glow of candlelight reflected in the glass as you gazed out at the falling snow, your expression calm and contemplative, as though soaking in every detail of the world outside.

For a moment, Mattheo found himself wondering what was so fascinating about the snow. It was just snow—falling endlessly, especially this time of year. But to you, it seemed to hold some deeper meaning, something he couldn’t quite grasp. You watched the flurries with a quiet intensity he found… puzzling.

“Paying attention, or has the snow got you too?” Theo teased, nudging Mattheo as he caught him staring.

Mattheo shot him a sharp look. “Shut up.”

Glancing at you again, he lowered his voice. “Why’s she so quiet?”

Pansy, ever observant, turned her gaze from you to the two whispering boys. “Because that’s how she is. Maybe you should try it sometime.”

“Very funny,” Mattheo shot back, narrowing his eyes at her.

Theo chuckled. “She just doesn’t like all the noise. Makes me wonder, though… why’s she here with us?”

“Because you invited her,” Mattheo said dryly, his tone clipped. Theo shrugged, unbothered.

“She’s here for Pansy. And maybe because sometimes people like to shake things up a bit,” Theo replied, as if it were obvious.

Mattheo didn’t respond, his attention drawn back to you. You were still lost in the view outside, but you must have felt the weight of their stares because, after a moment, you turned to face the group. Your smile was small and uncertain, a touch of embarrassment in your eyes. “What?” you asked quietly, your voice soft and cautious.

“Mattheo thinks you’re mysterious,” Theo said boldly, grinning as he leaned back lazily in his chair.

You frowned, your gaze shifting to Mattheo, who let out an irritated scoff. “That’s not what I said.”

“No need to explain yourself, Riddle,” Pansy chimed in with a sly grin, hiding behind the menu.

You gave a shy smile, clearly flustered, and buried yourself in the menu as if it were a shield. Mattheo caught the faint blush creeping across your cheeks, and for some inexplicable reason, it made him glance away, feeling oddly unsettled.

“What’re we ordering?” Blaise asked suddenly, breaking the tension and redirecting the group’s focus.

While the others debated their orders, Mattheo remained silent, his fingers tapping against the table. He didn’t want to admit it, but there was something about you that left him uneasy—not in a bad way, but in a way that made him feel restless, like he couldn’t quite figure out what to do with himself.

The waiter arrived, looking a little tired but polite, his quill poised to take orders. Theo and Blaise rattled off their choices with ease, but when it was your turn, you hesitated, your voice so soft that the waiter leaned in.

“Sorry, could you repeat that?” the waiter asked, his tone patient.

Mattheo noticed the discomfort on your face as you tried again, your cheeks flushing with self-consciousness. It was such a simple moment, but something about it made Mattheo feel compelled to step in.

“She’ll have a butterbeer,” he said abruptly, leaning back in his chair as if it were no big deal. “And I’ll have the same.”

The waiter blinked, then nodded. “Right, and the rest of you?”

You glanced at Mattheo, your surprise evident. For a moment, he wondered if he’d made things worse. But then you murmured, “Thanks,” so quietly it was almost inaudible. Your smile was small and a little shy, but there was something about it—something genuine—that made Mattheo’s chest tighten unexpectedly.

Their eyes met for a brief moment, and while it wasn’t much, it was enough to make Mattheo look away, feeling a strange heat rising in his neck. What the hell was that?

He focused on the table instead, letting his gaze fall on Pansy. She was watching him with her usual smirk, the kind that screamed, I know something you don’t. That look alone was enough to irritate him further.

He clenched his jaw, determined to brush it off. Whatever Pansy thought she saw, it didn’t matter. It wasn’t like him to get caught up in whatever game she might be playing. And yet, he couldn’t shake the thought of that small, genuine smile you’d given him—or the way it had made him feel completely out of his depth.

Later, the group had finished their meal and was now strolling leisurely through the softly lit streets of Hogsmeade. Snow fell in delicate flakes, blanketing the rooftops with a fine layer, creating a scene that was ordinary but, in your eyes, uniquely enchanting.

Mattheo walked in silence, his hands casually shoved into his pockets, while you stayed a little ahead with Luna, Blaise, and Pansy. The latter seemed particularly alert, as if she were plotting something in her mind.

“Let’s stop by Honeydukes,” Pansy announced suddenly, pausing beside Blaise and Luna. “I’m absolutely craving those ginger caramels.”

“Now? is probably a nightmare,” Theo grumbled, though his protest was pointless as Pansy was already dragging him firmly towards the shop’s entrance.

Before you could say a word, she turned to you and Mattheo with a sly, self-assured grin.

“How about you two check out the bookshop? We’ll catch up in a bit!”

You hesitated for a moment, glancing uncertainly in the direction of the bookshop and then back at Pansy. But she didn’t wait for a reply. Without giving you a chance to argue, she disappeared into Honeydukes with Theo in tow.

Mattheo let out a quiet sigh, his expression laced with a knowing irritation at Pansy’s obvious intentions. But he didn’t comment. Instead, he gave a small nod towards the bookshop.

“Fancy it?” he asked, his tone straightforward.

You nodded slightly, not trusting your voice to come out steady, and followed him towards the shop.

The interior of the bookshop was warm and serene. Tall shelves were crammed with books, from old, worn-out tomes to pristine, freshly bound editions. The air was filled with the unmistakable scent of aged paper, and the soft glow of strategically placed lamps added to the cosy atmosphere.

Walking slowly down the aisles, you trailed your fingers over the spines of books, savouring the texture of each one. Mattheo had wandered to a quieter section, where he pulled an old, dark-covered book from the shelf and examined it with mild curiosity.

“I’ve read that one,” you remarked casually, stepping closer.

Mattheo looked up at you, his expression faintly surprised. “Have you?”

You nodded, your eyes lighting up shyly but genuinely. “It’s really good, though a bit sad.”

He shrugged, placing the book back and reaching for another.

“That one too,” you said, glancing at the new book in his hand.

He raised an eyebrow, holding the book for a moment before putting it back and selecting yet another.

“Oh, that one’s brilliant!” you exclaimed, a spark of enthusiasm slipping through. “A bit heavy in parts, but it’s one of my favourites.”

Mattheo paused, studying the book in his hand before looking back at you.

“Have you read all of these?” he asked, disbelief evident in his tone.

You hesitated, your gaze flickering away briefly before meeting his again, your cheeks warming under his scrutiny.

“Almost all of them,” you admitted softly. “I just… really like reading.”

A faint, genuine smile tugged at Mattheo’s lips as he shook his head slightly.

“All right,” he said, holding up another book. “How about this one? Have you read it?” He revealed the title: The Great Gatsby.

Your eyes lit up instantly as you nodded. “Yes. It’s a classic. Sad, but so good.”

Mattheo let out a short sigh, glancing at the book with more interest. “Do you cry at all of them, or just the ones I pick because I like the cover?”

Your timid but sincere smile answered before your words. “Only the good ones.”

For a moment, he just watched you, his eyes lingering as you studied the shelves around you with quiet fascination.

“So,” he said, breaking the silence. “Think I’ll like this one?”

You tilted your head thoughtfully. “Depends. Do you like happy endings?”

Mattheo chuckled lowly, a hint of dry humour in his voice. “Wouldn’t know what that’s like.”

Your expression softened at his response, but you didn’t say anything right away. Instead, you looked up at him, as though trying to understand him better. He shifted uncomfortably under your gaze and glanced away.

“I’ll take it,” he muttered, holding the book firmly. “If it makes me cry, it’s your fault.”

You laughed quietly, the sound lighter this time, as he tucked the book under his arm.

“Do you read much?” you asked, your voice still a little shy as your eyes lifted to meet his.

“Not really.”

The moment was abruptly interrupted by Pansy’s familiar voice cutting through the quiet. She appeared suddenly beside Mattheo, a smug smile on her face.

“You two are taking ages,” she teased, throwing a loaded glance between the two of you. “Buying a book or writing one?”

Mattheo rolled his eyes, refusing to dignify her with an answer, while you glanced away, feeling slightly flustered. Pansy’s satisfied grin made it clear she’d gotten exactly what she wanted. Without ceremony, she tugged Mattheo towards the counter to pay for his book. You followed quietly as they left the shop, snow beginning to fall again outside.

ಇ

Once again, the group had gathered, this time in a more comfortable setting, as if they had already gotten used to the rhythm of their regular outings. The Slytherin common room felt cosy and calm, bathed in the soft light of the fire crackling in the hearth, casting a warm, golden glow across the space. Theo and Pansy were chatting animatedly about something trivial, while Blaise and Luna stayed, as usual, wrapped up in their own bubble, oblivious to the world around them.

You and Mattheo, however, were more on the edge of the group, tucked away in a quiet corner where silence hung comfortably in the air. He was staring into the flames, his mind distant, while you flicked through a book, your eyes quickly scanning the shelves of volumes in the common room.

It was you who broke the silence, your voice soft, laced with your usual curiosity.

“Have you finished that book, Mattheo?”

He gave you a look after a brief pause, responding casually.

“Yeah, it was quick to read, just like Cat’s Cradle.”

“You’ve read Cat’s Cradle?” you asked, surprised, your eyes lighting up instantly at the thought that he might be interested in such a quirky book.

Mattheo nodded with a relaxed gesture.

“Mm-hm.”

“I love that book,” you said enthusiastically. “I thought you said you didn’t read much.”

He laughed and shrugged, not giving it much thought.

“Well, what’s ‘much’?”

You laughed, satisfied with the answer, before diving back into your love for the book.

“Cat’s Cradle is just so chaotic, so human, you know? Like a distorted mirror of ourselves.”

Mattheo furrowed his brow, now visibly more interested.

“Human?”

“Yeah,” you continued, gesturing lightly. “The way Vonnegut portrays people, with all their confusing flaws—it’s so real. It’s a bit uncomfortable, but still, it’s genius.”

Mattheo watched you for a moment, trying to understand your perspective before replying in a teasing tone.

“I’m not sure ‘genius’ is the right word.”

You let out a soft laugh, not offended.

“No? And how would you describe it?”

He shrugged, his eyes drifting to the window beside him, watching the snow fall gently outside.

“It’s more like… a bunch of people getting into trouble because they’re too thick to see what’s right in front of them.”

You tilted your head slightly, amused by the simplicity of his argument.

“Exactly. That’s what makes it genius.”

Mattheo blinked, clearly impressed by your response. He wasn’t sure if you were joking or if you really believed it.

“You think stupidity is genius?”

“Nooo,” you said with a sideways smile. “But it makes us reflect on that human stupidity, like a portrait of our own contradictions, in a raw way. It’s uncomfortable, but in a weird way, it’s beautiful.”

Mattheo fell silent for a moment, processing your words.

“Beautiful?” He raised an eyebrow, as if trying to decide whether the comment was fascinating or just plain weird.

“Yes, beautiful,” you insisted, your tone calm but firm. “I think there’s beauty in accepting that we’re flawed, that we’re always trying, even when we know we might fail.”

He let out a low, almost incredulous laugh.

“You’ve got a peculiar way of looking at things.”

“Peculiar?” You laughed back, not losing the lightness of the moment. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

Before he could respond, you leaned forward slightly, without thinking too much, and with a gentle gesture, you brushed a stray curl of hair from his face. Your touch was so natural that he barely had time to process it. Your fingers slid smoothly through his dark hair, pushing the curl away, and you did it with such ease that it felt completely normal to you. But for Mattheo, the action was enough to freeze him for a moment.

Mattheo froze. His mind instantly went on alert. The touch, though brief, had triggered a cascade of disconnected thoughts that he had no idea how to sort or deal with at that moment.

You, completely unaware of the inner battle Mattheo was facing, turned your attention back to the book you were skimming through, still intrigued by the shelves in the Slytherin common room. They were filled with delicate details, snakes and symbols, which gave the place a peculiar touch.

Mattheo, on the other hand, remained silent, lost in his own thoughts. He tried to push the moment’s impact aside, but it seemed impossible. The touch was still fresh on his skin, and the echo of your words about the book lingered in his mind.

ಇ

The night was quiet and peaceful at Hogwarts Castle. Mattheo lay in his dormitory, the soft light of the moon streaming through the window, casting a subtle glow over the room. His mind, however, was restless, filled with thoughts that were hard to sort. Almost mechanically, he reached for his wand, and with a subtle motion, began to move it, calling the music.

The first notes of “Crash Into Me” began to fill the room, softly, as Dave Matthews’ voice echoed through the space, enveloping him in a familiar melody. The song seeped into him like a comforting whisper, and something in it gripped him almost viscerally. He closed his eyes, allowing himself to be consumed by the music, and, without knowing why, raised his wand again to put the track on repeat.

The words of the song began to take on more meaning, subtly echoing within him, much like the thoughts swirling in his mind that he couldn’t quite organise. It was as if the song spoke directly to him, not in a clear and direct way, but through its rhymes and melody, something in between the lines made him think of you. Your calm presence, yet shrouded in mystery, took shape in his mind.

He turned over in bed, still immersed in confusing thoughts, trying to understand the nameless feeling that overtook him. What was this unease? The music seemed to break something inside him, as if it were unveiling parts of himself he didn’t know existed.

As the chords of the song filled the space around him, a quiet exhaustion began to settle in. He surrendered to the melody, letting himself drift, without haste or resistance. The last thing he thought of before falling asleep was your face.

In his dream, you were beneath the Astronomy Tower. The stars watched silently as you leaned against the balustrade, your hair softly shimmering, floating with the night’s breeze. They saw when you approached him, and the world around seemed to shrink, as if everything became insignificant. You kissed him, a simple, gentle kiss, incredibly soft, full of sincerity. When you pulled away, his eyes opened.

The song “Crash Into Me” still played in his ears, but the sensation of the kiss, the soft touch of your lips, lingered with him, even though the dream dissipated as quickly as it had come. He lay there, motionless, not knowing exactly when he had been struck. The confusion that had once dominated his thoughts now seemed entwined with that fleeting memory, and he allowed himself to feel.

ಇ

Theo’s dormitory was as cosy as ever, lit only by the bedside lamp, casting a soft yellow glow that created an intimate atmosphere. The lazy tendrils of cigarette smoke drifted in the air, mixing with the low hum of music playing from a small gramophone in the corner. Lorenzo was slouched on the sofa, his feet carelessly propped up on the coffee table, while Theo, seated on the floor with his back against the bed, took long drags from his cigarette, releasing the smoke in the air as if following a ritual.

Pansy, meanwhile, leaned against an armchair, distractedly fiddling with her wand. Mattheo remained on the outskirts, leaning against the wall, arms crossed, and visibly more distant than usual.

“So,” Pansy began, breaking the silence with a mischievous smile playing on her lips, though her tone remained casual, “I’m thinking of organising another group trip to Hogsmeade next Saturday. You coming?”

Mattheo raised an eyebrow, sceptical. “Who’s going?”

Pansy shrugged nonchalantly. “Me, obviously, Theo, Blaise, Lorenzo, Daphne… if she’s not busy.”

He gave a small nod, considering the idea. Maybe getting out a bit wouldn’t be so bad, even if he wasn’t exactly in the mood.

“And [Name],” Pansy added casually, throwing him a sly sidelong glance.

The effect was immediate. Mattheo froze, quickly averting his gaze. “Ah… no, I don’t think I’ll be going, then.”

Pansy stared at him, taken aback. “You’re not?”

“I’m just not in the mood,” he replied flatly, still avoiding her gaze.

“Not in the mood or running from her?” Pansy pressed, her tone sharp. She uncrossed her arms and stepped away from the armchair, facing him head-on.

He let out a humourless laugh, pushing away from the wall. “Oh, spare me, Pansy. This is just one of your dumb ideas to try and push me onto one of your friends. I’ve told you, it’s not going to work.”

“Push you onto my friends?” she repeated, incredulous, the disbelief clear in her voice. “Merlin’s beard, do you even hear what you’re saying? I’m just organising a trip, it’s not your bloody wedding!”

“Oh, right,” he shot back, his voice rising slightly. “You think I don’t notice? You’re always trying to set people up, like it’s some kind of game. But this isn’t some stupid romance novel. And honestly? She’s none of that, not worth the hassle.”

The silence that followed was thick, almost tangible. Even Lorenzo, who had seemed absorbed in his own thoughts, lifted his gaze, surprised by the bitterness in Mattheo’s voice. Pansy stood still for a moment before letting out a bitter laugh.

“Not worth the hassle?” she repeated, each word laced with icy venom, as she stepped right up to him. “Do you have any idea what utter rubbish you’ve just said?”

Mattheo tried to hold her stare, but there was something in her stance that unsettled him.

“You don’t even believe that,” she continued, her voice firm now. “You’re so terrified of the idea of liking her that you’d rather say something vile like that than admit it to yourself. But guess what, Mattheo? It doesn’t change a thing.”

He crossed his arms, frustration clearly etched on his face. “I’m not scared of anything. You’re the one harassing me with this ridiculous conversation.”

“Ridiculous?” Pansy raised her voice, frustration seeping through every word. “You’re the one acting ridiculous! As if liking someone is some kind of weakness. It’s pathetic, actually—it’s so sad, it’s almost funny.”

“Oh, fuck off, Pansy,” he snapped, his anger boiling over.

She laughed, a sarcastic chuckle escaping her. “I’m just trying to stop you from being an idiot. But, then again, maybe you don’t deserve someone like her. Maybe she’s too good for you, yeah?”

Mattheo clenched his jaw, irritation flashing across his face before he stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

In the stillness of his own dormitory, he threw himself onto the bed, his chest still heaving from the argument. He ran a hand through his hair, trying to organise his thoughts, but Pansy’s words continued to echo in his mind like an unshakable spell.

“Maybe she’s too good for you.”

He knew he shouldn’t have said that. It wasn’t true, and he knew it. She was worth the effort, without a doubt. He remembered the way she spoke about books, how her eyes lit up with passion for things he didn’t even bother to notice. She was kind, funny, incredibly genuine, and, above all, special.

With a heavy sigh, he closed his eyes and stared at the ceiling. Pansy was right. He was an idiot. And, worse yet, an idiot in love.

ಇ

The pub in Hogsmeade was packed, but the noise around Jasmine felt distant as she watched the group of friends play pool with curiosity. The soft lighting gave the place a warm, inviting atmosphere, while the low music in the background punctuated the occasional laughter of Theo and Lorenzo, who were arguing about who the better player was.

Mattheo kept his gaze fixed on you, knowing there was no escaping this. He was already falling, and he knew it. Rather than resist, he decided to enjoy the moment. There was something about your cautious yet charming manner that stirred him in a way he couldn’t quite understand. But soon he realised there was no need to comprehend it. It was as if the fall was inevitable, and somehow, the view would be worth it. All that was left for him to do was relax and let it happen. Maybe it was time to be bolder. Let the fall happen. He was ready for whatever came next and wanted to see how far it could go.

“Go on, who’s next?” Theo asked, twirling the cue stick with a teasing smile, aiming it at you.

“Definitely not me,” you muttered instantly, shrugging behind your butterbeer.

“Oh, come on,” Pansy teased, smiling. “You’ve never played?”

You shook your head, feeling a little out of place. “No idea how to play.”

Before Pansy could insist, Mattheo pushed off from the wall where he had been leaning, arms casually crossed, and approached. “I’ll teach you.”

You looked up at him, surprised. “You don’t have to, I—”

“Come here,” he interrupted, leaving no room for protest. He reached out and, before you could object, gently took hold of your wrist, guiding you to the right spot at the table.

Frozen, you watched him as if he’d just cast a spell. There was something so natural about the gesture – as though you’d shared this kind of proximity for years – that it left you speechless.

“Grab the cue,” he instructed, his voice low and slightly husky. You obeyed, holding the cue with clear hesitation.

Mattheo took a step back, so close that you could feel the warmth radiating from his body. “Like this,” he said, adjusting his hands over yours. His fingers were firm but didn’t squeeze; the touch felt casual, yet it carried an intimacy that made you blush instantly.

He tilted his head, his voice close to your ear. “You need to align with the ball.”

His breath seemed to brush against your skin, and your heart raced. “Right… okay.”

He chuckled softly. “Relax, you’re all tense.”

“I’m not tense!” you protested, though the nervousness in your voice gave you away.

“Of course not,” he teased, shifting his hands slightly to adjust the position. “Now aim here.”

Biting your lip, you tried to focus, even though the closeness made it nearly impossible. The sound of his voice, the way he leaned in, his firm yet careful touch – it was all making your mind spin.

“Ready?” he asked, and you nodded, feeling your face heat up.

With his help, you moved the cue forward, striking the ball harder than you expected. It rolled across the table, hitting a few others before dropping into one of the pockets.

“See?” he said, stepping back slightly but keeping his hand near yours. “That wasn’t so hard.”

You laughed nervously, too shy to meet his eyes. “I think it was more you than me.”

“Maybe,” he replied casually, but his gaze was now locked on yours.

You noticed he was still holding your hand, even though it wasn’t necessary anymore, and for a moment, you were completely speechless. When he finally let go, the touch seemed to linger.

“Next,” he said, handing the cue to Theo, who was already laughing.

You stepped away from the table, trying to regain your composure, but your heart was still racing. Pansy watched you with a mischievous smile, but said nothing – which, in some way, was even more embarrassing.

Mattheo, now leaning back against the wall again, looked relaxed, though a subtle smile played on his lips. He knew exactly what he’d done – and he seemed to be enjoying it.

The night was light, filled with laughter and pool shots. You still felt a bit embarrassed about the last shot, about Mattheo’s unexpected touch, and the way he seemed so at ease. The way he approached so naturally, as if there was an intimacy between you two that you didn’t know how to handle, made you nervous, but also… curious.

At one point, you stepped away to grab the drink you’d left on the table, and Mattheo was right behind you, not wasting a second before taking the empty glass from your hand.

“I’ll get you another,” he said, flashing a casual smile.

You raised an eyebrow, glancing at him and then at the empty glass he’d taken from your hand. “Hey, I can do it myself.”

He shrugged as he walked away. “So what? Let me do it for you.”

You stared at him as he made his way to the bar, wanting to protest, but knowing he probably wouldn’t care. He was back quickly, drink in hand, placing it gently in front of you.

“Here,” he said, smiling tranquilly.

Still unsure how to react, you responded, “You really don’t listen, do you?”

He laughed easily and sat beside you. “I listen, I just don’t care. And let’s be honest,” he chuckled softly, “you’re not exactly good at hiding that you like it when I do things for you.”

Your face flushed, but you weren’t sure whether you were more surprised by the comment or by how comfortable he seemed with the situation. You tried to change the subject, though your voice still sounded hesitant. “I really could’ve filled my own glass.”

“Sure,” he interrupted with a sly grin, “but I wanted to do it.”

Not knowing how to respond, you looked down, crossing your legs and resting the drink on your thigh, unsure of how to act when Mattheo was messing with your composure. But secretly, you were enjoying this new side of him – unsure of how to react, but liking it all the same.

“I know what I’m doing,” you whispered, more to yourself.

“I know, princess,” he replied with an easy grin, “but I like doing it.”

ಇ

As time passed, your meetings became more frequent. The group hangouts gradually gave way to moments alone, and the relationship between you two became more comfortable and intimate. Being in each other’s company felt natural, easy, almost like an extension of everyday life. Mattheo’s behaviour grew more spontaneous, with fewer of the usual walls he built up when you were around. And it wasn’t just you who noticed; the entire group of friends could see it too.

One night, you were in Mattheo’s dorm. The atmosphere was calm and welcoming, with the scent of scented candles he’d started using now permanently filling the room. They were burning all around, three on the dresser and others on the bedside table. Meanwhile, Mattheo was rummaging through the wardrobe shelves and found a few hidden bottles. It was cheap wine that Theo had bought to settle a silly bet, but had forgotten there. Mattheo remembered it like it had happened yesterday. He looked at the bottle with a smile, laughing to himself. You raised an eyebrow, suspicious.

“I can’t believe you’re going to drink that,” you said, laughing lightly while lying on the black carpet in the middle of the room, fiddling with the radio.

Mattheo shrugged, flashing a carefree smile. “Of course I am, it’s here, right?”

You gave him a sceptical look, but couldn’t help but laugh at his audacity. “That’s a bit weird.”

“It’s nothing,” he replied, walking over and sitting beside you, holding the bottle out. “Try it, go on.”

Hesitant, but tempted, you sat next to him, smiling nervously. You took the bottle from his hand, laughing before bringing it to your lips, keeping your eyes fixed on his.

After a bottle and a half shared between you, the effects of the wine were already clear. The conversation flowed easily, words coming out freely, and you both laughed at anything, letting yourselves enjoy the sense of freedom the moment brought.

Then Mattheo stood up, walked over to the radio, and adjusted the music. Fleetwood Mac, one of his favourite bands, and he knew it well. The soft notes filled the room, creating a relaxing and warm atmosphere. He smiled at you, stood up from the carpet, and waited for you to follow. “Don’t you want to dance?”

You looked at him hesitantly, but he was watching you as if daring you. It didn’t take long before you got up, still a bit loose from the alcohol, and started dancing awkwardly, singing along with Stevie Nicks, a silly grin on your face. Mattheo held your hands and settled on the bed, watching your dance. There was no pretension; it was a spontaneous dance, a bit off-beat, but genuine.

Mattheo watched you with a satisfied smile, but his gaze revealed something more. He saw you differently. You moved with clumsy grace, not caring about the rhythm, and he was completely captivated by the way you threw yourself into the moment, without a hint of self-consciousness. Your movements, though not sensual, were, in that instant, the most captivating thing he’d ever seen. You were so at ease, as if you were dancing just for him. And, in a way, you were.

You laughed, unaware of the effect you had, how your hair shone and moved perfectly with the rhythm of your motions. That sight, so natural, only drew him in more. When the music finally ended, you stopped, out of breath, and looked at him with a mischievous grin, holding onto his shoulders while he watched you from below, his expression one of admiration.

“See? Was this what you wanted?” you asked, regaining your composure, but with a faint blush on your cheeks.

“More than I expected.”

The music still filled the room, but slowly, it became a distant echo, overshadowed by the tension that now dominated the space. The air felt heavier, each heartbeat ringing in your ears as you locked eyes with him. Your hands still rested on his shoulders, and despite the relaxed smile that appeared on his face, there was something in Mattheo’s gaze that made the lightness of the moment take on a new weight.

His eyes were fixed on yours, serious, intense, filled with an emotion you couldn’t quite decipher. Something in that look seemed ready to spill over, and before you could even question it, the space between you two was vanishing. Mattheo moved, his strong hands reaching up to cradle your face, holding it with a gentleness that contrasted with the fervour in his expression. The world around you faded in the blink of an eye. No more cheap wine, no more candles, no more Stevie Nicks in the background. It was just the two of you.

“I’ve been wanting to do this for a while,” he murmured, his voice low and rough, filling the silence between you. His gaze didn’t waver, and the proximity made each word feel even more intimate, almost like a confession. A shiver ran down your spine, but you didn’t respond. There were no words that could capture what was going through your mind.

When he finally closed the remaining space between you, his lips found yours, and everything seemed to fall into place. The kiss began firm but soon softened, as if he was exploring each detail, testing, savouring the moment with an almost palpable intensity.

His hands didn’t stay still. One slid to your waist, fingers slipping beneath your shirt, touching your warm skin with a mixture of firmness and care. The other moved up to your neck, fingers light as a caress, but determined, keeping you close, as if he wanted to make sure you wouldn’t slip away.

When his lips left yours, it was only to trace a deliberate path along your jawline, down to the delicate spot on your neck, where he could feel your pulse quicken. Each kiss was meticulous, almost reverent, as you closed your eyes, surrendering to the sensation. The softness of his touch seemed to contradict the intensity he maintained with every movement, and it made the moment all the more overwhelming.

Then, unexpectedly, Mattheo made a quick movement, pulling you onto the bed.

He was firm, but careful, lying you down with precision and security, as if guiding you through a dance he had already mentally rehearsed. Your bodies moulded into the surroundings, as if the moment had been waiting for you both.

Mattheo pulled back slightly, his hands slowly lifting your shirt, with a near ceremonial slowness. There was no rush, just a clear intention in every gesture, as though he was absorbing the significance of what was happening. His eyes scanned your body, but not with haste or crude desire. There was something almost devotional in that gaze, something that made your breath quicken and slow at the same time.

His lips descended to your stomach, touching it with the lightness of a promise. Each kiss seemed to hold something unspoken, something long-kept. Mattheo's fingers traced slow paths along your skin, as though he wanted to memorise every detail, while you let out a sigh that seemed to echo in the intimacy of the room.

For a brief moment, he lifted his head, meeting your gaze. His eyes sparkled with a mix of desire and playfulness, and a light smile curved his lips before he leaned in again, the kisses resuming their course, now with even more care, as if each touch was a silent vow of adoration.

THIS WAS SO SO SO HOT, MAR MY LOVE YOU’RE AMAZING GTFO 😡💞

side, allowing him better access to your neck. His breath ghosts over your cheek as he leans in, placing a kiss on your delicate skin before his fangs graze over his favourite spot on your neck, slowly piercing through your flesh.

i was already wet, like GENUINELY

soft moans and gasps spilling over your lips, swallowing as a dark red drop of blood leaks from the corner of his mouth.

you can’t do this to me… YOU KNOW HOW MUCH A SUCKER FOR BLOOD I AM

genuinely giggling at the smut like GTFO AND LET ME HAVE YOUR BRAIN

There's no trace of them-there never is.But as you look around you, a note placed on your nightstand catches your attention.

ok now i’m mad at you (lowkey at window waiting for them to come and ]%]%%]%]%] yk?

LOVE IT LOVE IT LOVE IT

AU | ᴠᴀᴍᴘɪʀᴇ!ᴛᴏᴍ ʀɪᴅᴅʟᴇ x ꜰ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ x ᴠᴀᴍᴘɪʀᴇ!ᴅʀᴀᴄᴏ ᴍᴀʟꜰᴏʏ

Shared Bites.

Short Summary: Sometimes sharing your favourite meal isn’t all too bad.

Warnings: 18+ only! threesome, oral f!receiving, fingering, biting (obv), dub con if you squint, mentions of blood, slight choking

wordcount: 1,2k

Tom showing up in your dorm as the clock strikes midnight isn’t unusual. Not when the moon is at its brightest, its energy wrapping around you tighter than normal, a gentle reminder of the impending return of your favourite vampire that night.

However, what is unusual about today is that he’s brought someone with him. Not just anyone, though. It’s Draco.

Draco, who happens to be a vampire as well. Draco, who has been begging Tom to let him have a taste of your sweet, sweet blood. And Tom, who couldn’t help but look forward to sharing his favourite prey after you agreed. 

A shiver runs down your spine as they make their way towards you, their glowing, scarlet eyes burning through the darkness of the night, practically pinning you in place. Before you realize it, you’re pressed against a nearby wall, Tom’s lips crashing onto yours while Draco’s skilled fingers work your skirt’s zipper, soon letting the fabric drop to the cold marble floor.

“Fuck, she is gorgeous,” he murmurs, palms trailing up and down your thighs, urging you to part your legs for him. Only then does he rid you of the last piece of fabric on your lower body—your lace panties, leaving them to pool at your ankles before his thumb finds your clit, rubbing soft circles over the sensitive bud.

The brunette watches the both of you intently, and though he would never admit it—a slight pang of jealousy hits him as he sees how eagerly you lean into Draco’s touch.

“Ready?” Tom whispers, one of his hands gently tilting your head to the side, allowing him better access to your neck. His breath ghosts over your cheek as he leans in, placing a kiss on your delicate skin before his fangs graze over his favourite spot on your neck, slowly piercing through your flesh.

A familiar euphoria spreads through your body as he starts feasting on your blood, muffled groans and soft sucking noises coming from the brunette. Drops spill down your neck, tainting your blouse with the red liquid.

You don’t complain—not now, when you feel everything so intensely, the slight sting of Tom’s bite with Draco’s fingers buried inside of you ridding you of any sanity you had left.

Tom pulls back slowly, fangs retracting from your neck when he hears soft moans and gasps spilling over your lips, swallowing as a dark red drop of blood leaks from the corner of his mouth.

“Are we making you feel that good, darling?” He purrs, his face inching closer to yours before he presses a soft kiss to your slightly parted mouth, the metallic taste of your blood on his lips flooding your senses.

A slow, knowing smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth as he takes in your state, eyes closed and brows furrowed, your mind too hazy to form coherent words. The pad of his thumb softly swipes over your now crimson-painted lips, admiring how pretty you look with your own blood staining your perfect skin.

“Sweetheart. Answer me.” The brunette drawls, head dipping down again, tongue trailing along the fresh wound on your tender neck to gather any spilled blood.

“Yes, Tom— fuck—“ you manage, eyes fluttering open as you feel the knot in your stomach winding tighter with each passing second, your legs trembling as the man between them finds that one perfect, sensitive spot inside of you with the pad of his fingers.

“Oh- oh God, Draco—“

You feel the blonde hum in recognition, and just like on command, his fingers curl, lips wrapping tighter around your swollen clit, sucking softly on the sensitive bud. Your vision grows cloudy with stars, and you are right there, right at the edge, ready to let the built-up pressure in your lower stomach explode into fireworks of ecstasy.

But just as you are about to tumble over the edge, he pulls away.

You want to complain, tell him to get his head back to where it was. However, when you open your mouth, the only sound you manage is a sharp hiss as his pointed teeth pierce the soft skin of your inner thighs, his cold, strong hands keeping your legs from closing.

A smirk tugs at the corner of Tom’s lips as he takes in your expression. So beautiful, he thinks. So helpless, yet so eager to let both of them have their fair share of you. And you would get your reward—but you are still his after all, and the only way you get to come is on his mouth, his fingers, his cock.

With that thought, his lips meet yours for a hungry kiss once more, hand softly wrapping around your throat, thumb caressing over your pulse point. You are out of breath as you break apart, watching him drop to his knees in front of you, switching positions with the blonde.

“N-No more,” you whimper, trying to steady yourself on the wall, Draco’s laboured breath hot on the tender skin of your neck as his head dips down, sharp teeth grazing over your crimson-coloured skin.

Tom nudges your legs further apart, inhaling sharply as his gaze locks onto your glistening folds right in front of him. “Yet,” he starts, his thumb swiping through your slit, coating himself in your arousal, “look at how eager you are for us.” 

“It’s only fair—“ he purrs, one finger slipping inside of you, then a second, stretching you perfectly, fingertips finding your weak spot without even trying. “If we get our share, don’t you think, darling?”

Your mind is beyond hazy at this point, dizzy as your body reacts to the blood loss, dizzy with the need to come. 

Fuck it.

“Yes— God, Tom— have me.”

It’s not only a simple answer—it’s a plea. And just as the words leave your lips, Draco sinks his fangs into your neck with a low growl, the brunette in front of you flicking his tongue over your clit. Heaven or damnation—you don’t quite know which is closer. However, with the way both of them work your body—you practically see the gates to paradise opening right before your eyes.

Naturally, it doesn’t take long for your orgasm to build once more, and Tom notices, obviously. The way you squeeze tighter around him, walls fluttering in anticipation and lips slightly parted, he sucks on your puffy bud, just the way he knows you like it—slowly.

Your ears ring, thighs trembling as fireworks set off behind your eyes, your vision fading into a blur as the brunette works you through your orgasm, loving the way your cunt clamps down on him as you come. How next time he would have you all for himself again.

“Were so good for us.” is the last thing you hear coming from the blonde before your eyes flutter close, Tom’s arms wrapping around your waist before your knees give in, fainting in his embrace.

By the time you wake, it’s morning, and you are tucked under your sheets, weak sun rays warming your skin. There’s no trace of them—there never is. But as you look around you, a note placed on your nightstand catches your attention.

And then you see it—your thighs are covered in bite marks.

Especially around the area Draco left his.

A/N: I am getting started on the full fic now. I promise😭

OMFG OMFG OMFG THIS WAS HOT, SO HOT!!! I’M ACTUALLY SPEECHLESS I MIGHT SCREAM?!?! HELLO??! THE SPACE THE WRITING THE WAY THIS MAN KNOWS HOW TO USE WHAT GOD GAVE HIM, YEAH GIMME MORE

Then his gaze moved over to the ice bucket. A sinister grin twitching on his lips.

i’m sat, SAT. speak to me, theo. speak. to. me.

With that, he flicked the candle swiftly, finishing with it as he set it to the side of you two. Theodore took his fingers, tracing over the wax across your throat. "T... h...e...o-" His voice came out in a possessive whisper.

i actually moaned. BYE.

That you were his and only his. As if you didn't know that already.

i actually didn’t—show me again.

Fire and Ice

12 Days of Dickmas - Theodore Nott x Reader

Summary: A cozy fireside evening with your boyfriend ends up getting hot to the touch, of course he can always make you melt👀

Warnings: 18+, MDNI, SMUT, chars 18+, modern au, bf!theo, dom!theo, fireside fuck, clit stim, oral, PIV, wax play, ice play, temp play, dirty talk, teasing, rough sex, slight choking, possessive, praising, marking?, Theo showing you every sensation from hot to cold

Taking a sip from your glass, the champagne bubbled on your tongue. Theo placed the bottle back into the silver ice bucket. A great different from the fire flickering in front of you.

“Sei bellissima, mio ​​dolce amore—“

His hot breath ticked right against the crook of your neck. Softly smiling over to your boyfriend, a giggle escaped your lips. “You know what Italian does to me, Teddy…”

Teasing him right back, your faces were inches apart. A sly smirk grew on Theodore’s face. “I don’t believe I do…care to enlighten me, amore?” Growling right against your cheek, he stole a quick kiss of your rosed flesh.

The sparkling champagne was clearly giving you both a flirtatious buzz. Setting a romantic atmosphere around you both. “Oh, I’d love to enlighten you…” Breathing those words of seduction, you pressed your lush lips to Theo’s.

Instantly deepening the kiss, his hands roamed down your waist before gently laying you down. Climbing on top of you in front of the crackling fireplace.

“I can never get sick of kissing those lips of yours…”

Breathing into your mouth, he rocked himself on you. Feeling his throbbing bulge against the thin fabric of your pajama shorts. “Good…You better not-“ Moaning through the kiss, you tugged at his t-shirt.

Feeling a smirk grow on Theo’s lips, he pulled away for a moment. “Someone’s needy, hm-?” He teased, sitting back to throw his shirt off. His hands carefully unbuttoned your pajama blouse.

Helping you slip off your top, your breasts perked out. A hunger forming within his ocean gaze. “So…Fuckin’…Perfect….” Muttering in a low whisper, Theodore’s eyes glanced over to the fireplace for a moment.

There sat a sparkly crimson candle. Something of a Christmas decoration. Then his gaze moved over to the ice bucket. A sinister grin twitching on his lips. “What?” You asked, clearly confused about why your boyfriend’s attention was roaming around the room instead of on you.

“Why don’t we…Do something a little different tonight?— Whatchya think amore?”

Theo’s voice came out growl like almost, only igniting a heated flame within you. “S-sure…What do you have in mind, Teddy?” Questioning him in your usual submissive tone, he reached over, grabbing the candle.

“How about…Some fire and ice, hm?” A deep yet seductive chuckle freed raggedly from his throat. Temp play. Fuck. You had always wanted to try it. Slowly bobbing your head, you swallowed.

Biting back a smirk that wanted to form on your own lips, Theo held the wick of the candle over the fire. Getting it ready. “This is hot…Quite literally…Hot-“ A sea of giggles washed from your lips as you shuffled your shorts off.

With a sarcastic shake of his head, Theo laughed along with you before seeing your juicy cunt on full display for him. “—Cazzo…Fuckin’ Hell, Tesoro-“ He mumbled, holding the burning candle in one hand.

Gliding down his free hand, he immediately gave your throbbing little bud a few slaps, feeling your wetness splash against his palm while pleasurable yelps released from you. “F-fuck—“

Massively turned on already, Theo could hardly contain himself. “So wet for me, huh? So eager to get this wax all over this pretty body of yours?” Taunting you with his words, your back arched with a burning need.

“—Mhhmm…I want it, baby-“

Hearing your sensational begging, Theodore tilted the candle. The reddened wax dripping right between your tits. “Lookin’ so sexy covered in it—“ His darkened eyes traced over the wax while you Hissed from the intense warmth of it.

Quickly using his other hand, he grabbed an ice cube from the champagne bucket. Holding it between his pointer finger and thumb, teasing it along your pulsating little bud.

“S-so cold—“ A shiver ran down your spine from the icy yet sensual touch. However, almost instantly, Theodore let more of the crimson wax drop. This time across your nipples.

You could see the pride that washed over his face while you were lost in the icy hot sensations across your body. “So cold yet so hot- Huh, amore?” Teasing you, he swirled the ice cube around.

Feeling how it started to melt between your folds, the coolness mixed with your juices as you felt the wax atop your body hardening. “—Mhmmmm…I-I love this-“

Breathing out, the cube was practically melted at this point. Theo taking this time to circle his fingers around your clit. “Fuck— Yeah, you do…Such a good girl— Lookin’ so pretty…Painted in red for me-“ His voice becoming more and more growl-like.

The raunchy yet beautiful combination of the compliment made you shudder more than the Ice ever could. Your moans only progressively getting louder. He tilted the candle once more, this time over your abdomen, the wax splashing across your delicate skin.

Pain, pleasure, burning, all of it seemed to swish together to create a fine mixture of unusual bliss. Almost making your head fuzzy. “Let’s see…How fast you can make this melt-“ Theo clicked his tongue against his teeth, shooting you a cheeky wink

Reaching over to the silver-lined bucket once again, he grabbed a larger ice cube and plopped it in his mouth before kneeling between your spread legs. Your brows shot up, but then it hit you-

“T-Theo! Fuck- Feels so good- so cold!”

His lips immediately suctioned around your cluster of nerves, his tongue lapping around sloppily. The chillness of the cube causes goosebumps to erupt over you.

Now practically crying out from the intense feelings of ecstasy, Theo didn’t say a word. Instead focusing his tongue to flick as fast as it could against your achy clit.

One of his strong hands still held the half-used candle. Letting it pour over your mound this time. The wax spreading seamlessly around your sensitive skin. “G-gods— So close…So- fuckin’ close!”

Your body didn’t even know how to react anymore. Under the trance of your boyfriend, Theodore Nott. Indulged in the fire and ice going on.

However, His darkened gaze burned up into yours, his tongue moving in unimaginable swirls. The cube almost melted, but the coldness of it remained all around his mouth. Theo wanted nothing more than for you to be overstimulated with euphoria.

“D-don’t stop— p-please..Gods— I’m-“

Just as you were going to hit an intense climax, he made sure to pour down another layer of wax across your mound. Only igniting a more intense orgasm. Your screams echoing off the walls.

He slowly pulled away, his chin wet from not only the ice but from your juices as well. Wiping it away with the back of his hand, he smirked down at you. “So bloody beautiful when you finish for me-“

A cherried blush spread across your cheeks, Theo shuffled down his pants and pulled out his massive length. “Fuck me…please…fuck me-“ Begging out through a breath as if it was your last, you Physically saw his dick twitch.

“Cazzo— Don’t have to ask me twice, amore-“

With that, he slammed his thick and needy cock deep inside your juicy pussy. A loud groan guttering from his throat. “Each time I fuck you— God- I swear…You feel better each time-“

Through his thrusts, you were lost in a sea of moans, feeling Theo drive into you even harder. Just then, a lightbulb went off in that head of his. Reaching over to grab the flaming candle.

“Mmm— Theo-“ The babbling mess of you could hardly make out a word let alone a proper sentence. His pumps started to slow down, hitting smoothly against your cervix. Your gaze danced with the flame. Watching as he carefully dropped the wax. Moving it slowly.

“…Almost…Done-“ His tongue poked between his lips, the concentration painted over his chiseled face. “D-done with what?” You asked through a soft whimper.

With that, he flicked the candle swiftly, finishing with it as he set it to the side of you two. Theodore took his fingers, tracing over the wax across your throat. “T…h…e…o-“ His voice came out in a possessive whisper.

It hit you. His name. He spelled his name with the dark wax, right along your throat. “Oh? Marking me up as yours?-“ You managed to tease your boyfriend back. His hand now gripping around your neck.

“Just marking what’s mine—“

A possessive growl freed his lips before he mercilessly began to pound into you again. Showing exactly why you belonged to him. That you were his and only his. As if you didn’t know that already.

On the seventh day of Dickmas we get…Some fire..Some wax..and Some ice 👀🎁

Eeekkkk! This was so fun writing and I hope y’all enjoyed this as much as I did hehe🖤

Make sure you’re catching up with the other juicy fics from @nottsangel @nottswitch & @slytherinslut0 🎄

Dividers pinned in my masterlist🌙

Love all my sexy smut sluts 💋

i love when ari posts something bc i finally have a reason to drool over her without being weird, because—i mean look at this—it’s fucking amazing

"the world has two kinds of people: those who are prey and those who know how to hunt. guess which one i am."

well i will gladly be the prey, momma 🙂‍↕️

has one great weakness- her bloodlust. no matter how controlled she seems, her craving for fresh human blood is always lurking beneath the surface.

ok i might 💦💦 a lot reading the future works about my new gf (i’m here for it!)

but seriously this is so so good, and your description ARE SO FUCKING DETAILED AND BEAUTIFULLY WRITTEN

⊹ ࣪ ˖ introducing vampire!reader… ⊹ ࣪ ˖

vampire!reader… is fierce, cunning and dangerously charming. she isn’t just strong— she’s smart and manipulative when necessary. she can seduce, deceive, and destroy with a smile, doing whatever needs to be done— no guilt, no hesitation, even if that means violence. she always knows how to outsmart people.

“the world has two kinds of people: those who are prey and those who know how to hunt. guess which one i am.”

vampire!reader… has a hidden soft side buried deep, but no one gets to see it unless they’ve truly earned it. she’ll burn the world before she lets anyone control her. she doesn’t trust easily, and is convinced that anyone who gets too close either want something from her or will eventually betray her.

“i’ve been called many things—monster, seductress, survivor—but never weak.”

vampire!reader… has many abilities. she can snap a human’s neck in an instant, and a fight with her is over before it begins— she’s too fast for most to react. with heightened senses, she can hear whispered secrets from across the room. the scent of fear? or the sound of a heartbeat speeding up? she can sense it all.

“immortality is a game, and i always win.”

vampire!reader… has one great weakness— her bloodlust. no matter how controlled she seems, her craving for fresh human blood is always lurking beneath the surface. the longer she goes without feeding, the more reckless she becomes. and when hunger takes over? even she can’t predict what she’ll do.

“be careful, darling. i bite.”

i waited so patiently for this, and i finally read it, and let me tell you—it was the best decision i made today because this was genuinely amazing, and i’m wetter than the pacific ocean.

but before a single sound can even escape, theo's palm abruptly meets your cheek, your skin burning sharply at the impact and leaving a red mark on your tender skin.

i waited for times like this jsjsjsjsjs (slap me more)

without warning, he begins thrusting his cock in and out of you again, his hips snapping harshly against yours, causing you to instinctively wrap your legs tightly around his sculpted torso.

i don’t feel like a proper lady right now omfg 🧎🏻‍♀️

"and you still think 'big, scary theodore nott' can't fuck you good enough? huh?"

you can bury me already jsjsjsjsj i love this so much omfg jsjsjsjsjsj

FOUR. face slapping — brothers bsf!theo

warnings — smut 18+. vaginal sex. degradation. face slapping.

kinkmas mlist. moodboard. more.

plap. plap. plap. the sounds of theo’s brutal thrusts echoes through your bedroom, the bed squeaking with each little movement. the humid air is thick with the filthy sounds of sex, despite the pillow he strategically wedged between the bed and the wall. he just can’t seem to control himself when it comes to you— his best friend’s little sister.

“fuck! right there, yes!” you moan a little too loudly with your brother in the room next door, making theo’s eyes narrow sternly as his fast-paced movements abruptly come to a halt. one of his flexed hands resting beside your head moves to aggressively grip your face, fingers digging into your cheeks.

“hey, hey… you gotta shut the fuck up, alright? you’re being way too fuckin’ loud, cazzo. the whole fuckin’ neighbourhood’s gonna hear you.” he hisses through clenched teeth, a frustrated expression on his face as he’s still balls-deep inside of you, the tip nudging against your sensitive cervix. a naughty smile curls on your lips as you gaze up at him through hazy, fucked-out eyes.

“oh, please… always so arrogant about how good you can fuck me, but when you actually do—which isn’t often, by the way—you freak out.” you playfully lie, even though you both know damn well no other man has ever made you feel the way theo can. he scoffs at your bratty attitude, pressing his tongue against his inner cheek in exasperation as he disapprovingly shakes his head.

“idiota. your fucking brother is in the room next—”

“aww, big, scary theodore nott is scared of my brother? maybe i should moan even louder then, hm?” you tease further as you part your lips and squeeze your eyes, preparing to let out a loud, exaggerated moan, relishing the way your actions infuriate him— but before a single sound can even escape, theo’s palm abruptly meets your cheek, your skin burning sharply at the impact and leaving a red mark on your tender skin.

you freeze momentarily, baffled by the audacity with your head still tilted to the side, before your eyes narrow at him, your top lip curling in irritation. “oh, you dickhead.”

the ocean blue eyes staring back at you show expressions completely opposite to your own— mischievous and cocky, as if he knows something you don’t, with a sly smirk playing on his lips.

theo slowly leans his head closer to yours, his hot breath on your bare skin sending shivers down your spine. “tsk… you can say whatever you want, but i can feel the way you squeeze around me... so. fuckin’. tightly.”

your cheeks heat up instantly, and the words you so desperately want to spit at him are caught in your throat. you can’t deny it anymore, and he can see it too in the way your facial expression instantly shifts into one of desire— it turned you on more than you’d like to admit.

without warning, he begins thrusting his cock in and out of you again, his hips snapping harshly against yours, causing you to instinctively wrap your legs tightly around his sculpted torso. you gasp at the sudden feeling, your hands darting to his muscular arms to steady yourself, nails pressing into them and leaving crescent-shaped marks into his skin.

“so pathetic.” he sneers in a condescending tone before roughly sticking his fingers into your mouth, forcing you to suck on them. you uncontrollably moan around them, sucking eagerly just the way he wants you to, making him bite his lip at the sight, the lust-driven expression not faltering from his face once.

“not much to say now, huh?” he removes his spit-drenched digits from your mouth and drags your own saliva over your flushed face, making a mess everywhere before his palm strikes your face with force once more, but even harder this time, the stinging sensation through your skin igniting a feeling of ecstasy throughout your entire body.

“finally.” he drawls, his hands traveling to the back of your thighs before swiftly pushing them up, allowing him to hit spots even deeper, your legs dangling in the air with each forceful, deep thrust.

“finally i found a way to shut you the fuck up while your damn brother is in the other room.” he chuckles condescendingly, a smug, self-satisfied expression written all over his handsome face as he practically folds you in half. your sore muscles stretch painfully, but your mind is completely fuzzy and overtaken by sheer pleasure.

“and you still think ‘big, scary theodore nott’ can’t fuck you good enough? huh?” you desperately want to retort, but you can’t, ‘cause you don’t think that now, and you never once did. the way theo can make you feel is simply indescribable, almost as if his cock was made just for you, filling you so perfectly and finding your g-spot in no time, while still making you crave for more.

“just shut up and fuck me theo! i— please, don’t stop!”

“yeah… that’s what i thought. we both know you’ll always come running back to me like the dumb slut that you are, whether you’d like to admit it or not.”

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

reminder: reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated and keep me motivated. ty! ♡